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The pretty blonde looked like she was in misery. Her face was ghost white, slicked with sweat, and she appeared too weak to even stand on her own. She looked absolutely nothing like the pretty young thing Izzie had run into a little over an hour ago. She had to have been hit with some kind of fast-moving bug.
Nick didn’t waste time asking questions. He bent to lift the dancer, easily cradling her in his arms as if she was a child, and carried her into the greenroom down the hall. “Somebody get her a cold cloth.”
One of the dancers rushed off to do as Nick said, the rest of them crowded around. Izzie couldn’t say whether their avid interest was more on Leah’s behalf, or because of the incredible sight Nick made playing hero. His muscular arms bulged and flexed, but he spoke so softly-gently-to Leah as he gently laid her on the lumpy sofa in the greenroom. He even brushed her hair out of her face.
It was enough to make the hardest of women melt. Even the half-dozen strippers surrounding the sofa.
Izzie, of course, wasn’t surprised. She knew the tenderness the man was capable of. She also knew the way he’d been raised and imagined he’d have done the same thing if his little sister, Lottie, had been the one lying on that floor.
“What happened?” he asked Leah.
Leah groaned. “It just came over me out of nowhere. I haven’t been nauseous or anything, then all of a sudden, boom.”
“Have you eaten shellfish today?” someone asked.
“Or some old lunch meat?” asked another.
Leah shook her head, gratefully accepting a wet clump of paper towels her dressing-roommate, Jackie, had brought her. She pressed it to her forehead and replied, “I had a salad for lunch, then nothing until I binged on Rose’s chocolates.”
Seven heads swung around to stare at Izzie, seven pairs of eyes wide and curious. Maybe even a little accusing.
She opened her mouth to reply, wondering if they thought she’d done something to make Leah ill, but didn’t have to. The sick dancer herself spoke up again. “I found them lying on the stoop when I got to work today, with Rose’s name on them. She never even opened the box, she just gave them to me.”
That seemed to calm everyone down. Everyone except Nick. Because while all the others turned their attention back to Leah, offering to get her some ice or to drive her home, he frowned and stiffened his jaw so much it looked ready to break. “Where are these chocolates?”
“My dressing room.”
He looked up and stared at Jackie. “I’ll get them,” she said, quickly rushing out of the room.
It seemed ridiculous and Izzie didn’t for one second believe Leah had been brought down by some kind of poisoned candy…intended for her. That was strictly CSI stuff and she absolutely did not believe it. Judging by the look on Nick’s face, however, she knew better than to say that. He was going to see for himself no matter what she thought.
“Nick, I just heard one of the girls is sick, what’s going on?” Harry came rushing in the room, out of breath as if he’d just run down the stairs. The expression of worry on the older man’s face had to make all his employees feel better-no one could accuse Harry Black of not appreciating and caring about his dancers. Which probably made him a rarity in this industry…and was probably why few dancers ever quit here for any reason other than to move on to a different career.
Seeing Leah, he hurried over. “Should we call 9-1-1?”
Leah shook her head. “I don’t think so. But I do want to lie here for a little while, if that’s okay.”
“Oh, honey, don’t you even think of getting up,” another voice said. A woman’s. Delilah had heard the news, too, and followed her husband to the green room. She sounded concerned-a rarity for her. “We can cover you tonight and someone can take you home if you want.”
The room was getting crowded. But everybody made way for Jackie when she returned with the box of chocolates. “Here you go, Nick.” Frowning, she put her hand on his arm and nodded toward the corner of the room.
Nick took the box and followed Jackie. They exchanged a few words, and whatever she said to him made his scowl deepen. He kept the box tightly clutched in his hand and Izzie wondered if he was going to crush it.
Harry joined them, murmuring, “What’s wrong?”
Nick’s reply was softly spoken, he obviously didn’t want everyone else to hear. Jackie, having delivered whatever message it was that had gotten Nick even more fired up, called 9-1-1 after all, then went back to help take care of her friend. All the others hovered over Leah. Someone offered to get her a pillow for her feet, someone else offered a bucket for her head. That broke the ice a little and the group laughed.
