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Heartbreak Baby

Page 162

by Heather Ashley

I interlace my fingers with his and turn back toward the stage as the next queen comes out.

By the time Cherry reappears on stage to close out the set, Trace and Colston are in a heated debate about how much you should tip after a lap dance. Scout is taking Colston’s side just to annoy Trace, and Ellie and Andie are happily taking bets on who wins the argument.

Cherry hits her final pose to a massive roar from the room, scooping up a handful of cash from the edge of the stage.

But instead of heading backstage, Cherry keeps the microphone.

“All right, I’ve got one more thing before we take a little break.”

I reach for my oversized, fruit-covered virgin strawberry daiquiri.

Cherry looks directly at our booth.

Oh, fuck.

I freeze, my lips hovering right over the neon pink straw.

Beside me, Scout slowly raises her phone, angling the camera right at me.

That should’ve been my first clue.

Cherry points at me. “Goldie. Get your gorgeous ass up here.”

I stare at her like she’s out of her mind. “No.”

Sumner’s hand slips off my thigh.

I glance over at him. Instead of looking surprised that his hugely pregnant girlfriend is being summoned into the spotlight, he just calmly shifts his legs out of the way to give me room to slide out of the booth.

I narrow my eyes at him, but right now, I’m mostly focused on figuring out why Cherry wants me up on that stage. The people at the tables closest to us start clapping and cheering, trying to goad me into it.

“If this involves dancing, I’m leaving,” I call out to her.

Cherry laughs. “Relax. I’m not making you dance.”

That makes me feel approximately zero percent better.

Ellie starts shoving at my arm. “Go.”

I swat her hand away. “Stop shoving. Let me figure out how to roll my pregnant ass out of this booth first.”

I manage to extract myself from the booth and get to my feet, one hand automatically going to my aching lower back.

Cherry makes her way over and stops in front of me.

I narrow my eyes at her. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see.”

“That’s not an answer.”

She ignores me and turns toward the booth.

The noise level in the restaurant shifts. It doesn't actually get quiet, because this place probably hasn’t been quiet since the day it opened, but the energy changes enough that I can feel the focus of the entire room zeroing in on our table.

“This handsome man asked if he could borrow my stage for a minute.” Cherry looks toward Sumner. “He asked nicely. And he tipped well.”

Then she holds the microphone out, and when I look over my shoulder, Sumner’s already sliding out of the booth and making his way toward me.