Page 38 of Sexy

Chapter Fourteen

I barely slept at all last night. I tossed and turned. Fretted and fussed. I am riddled with guilt. Why did I sleep with him? Why did I make this stupid deal? My poor father, if he finds out. And those girls. They will come back to haunt me, I’m sure of it. There is no way Fletcher Novak can make things right with them. No way.

I glance down at my watch. It’s ten past noon. He can’t even make things right with me, because he’s already fucking up.

Calm down, Tiffy.

I take a deep breath and search the lobby one more time. But nope, I don’t see him. So I grab my phone from my purse and dial Amy’s receptionist, Leslie.

“Landslide management,” she says in her professional voice.

“It’s Tiffy. Do you know where I might find Mr. Novak at this hour? He was supposed to meet me and he’s not picking up his phone.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am. He’s in rehearsals on Friday mornings. Until…” She hesitates. “Well, noon. Technically. But he’s missed a few from what I’ve heard. Maybe they’re staying late?”

“Where are rehearsals?”

“The North Tower basement. There’s a key pad to the studio at the end of the west hallway. Your ID should get you in.”

“Thanks,” I say with a cheerfulness I don’t feel.

I take a deep breath and head towards my tower and then take the elevator to the basement. There’s a security guard at the entrance to the gym, but he tips his hat at me and says, “Afternoon, Miss Preston,” as I pass by.

I find the west hallway, and it’s not difficult. I can hear the stripper music a mile away. Goddamn him. How dare he leave me waiting up there? I really need to put an end to this ridiculous deal.

I swipe my card and pull the door open as my anger builds.

And then I stop. Dead in my tracks.

Fletcher Novak is doing some sort of striptease to a girl tied to a pole in the middle of the room.

“Yeahhhhhhh,” Claudio yells. He’s bound to the next pole over.

“Claudio!” I yell over the music.

“Whooooooooo,” he screams again. His eyes are on that other guy. Presumably the gay one Claudio was referring to yesterday.

“Claudio!” I scream again, but the music cuts off halfway through my outburst, and it echoes in the silence.

Every head turns to me.

Six male strippers in various stages of undress. Claudio, who has an open mouth and wide eyes. He might even be blushing. And about fifteen girls, who I can only presume are groupies. Some of them have Landslide uniforms on.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Tiffy,” Claudio says excitedly. “We’re stand-ins for the crowd for tomorrow night’s new act.” And then he does a not-so-subtle head tilt towards the stripper whose crotch is just inches from his face, and waggles his eyebrows.

“I’ll talk to you later.” I drag my gaze to Fletcher. “Why are you here when you’re supposed to be—”

“Tiffy,” he says, cutting me off. “Sorry, I got caught up in the heat of the moment and lost track of time.” He smiles sheepishly at me. “What time is it?”

“Twelve twenty-one,” I snap.

“OK.” And then he leans down to his captive’s neck and whispers something that makes her laugh.

I let out a long, aggravated sigh. “I’ll meet you—”

“No, no, no,” Fletcher says, jogging away from the girl tied to the pole in nothing but skimpy panties. “We’re done. I was just playing around with her. Come on, I gotta change and then we can go.”