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Hailey snickers. “I crated them up. Lola attacked Phoebe the minute she walked in,” she whisper-shouts as if Phoebe doesn’t know Lola was dry humping her leg.
A car outside honks its horn. “And now our Uber really is here.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’re sitting in an Uber looking up at the building housing the strip club. “Are you sure you want to go in there?” It doesn’t look as sleazy as I expected. It’s a black wooden structure with no windows. And, in case the name doesn’t give it away – Larry Flynt’s Gentlemen’s Club – there’s a red lantern.
“We’re going in,” Hailey says, opens her door, and marches out. I run to catch up with her.
Phoebe grasps my hand. “We need to stick together,” she whispers.
What does she think? Men are going to mistake her for the entertainment? I look over at her. It’s a definite possibility. Bodyguard Suzie to the rescue.
The bouncer doesn’t blink twice at three women walking into a strip club. He’s probably seen it all. We pay our cover charge and walk inside. Huh. It’s not what I expected. Yes, there’s a large stage with several poles on it, but it almost looks classy. The tables have comfy club chairs and the wooden accents everywhere give it – dare I say? – charm.
Hailey scans the half-empty room. “I don’t see them anywhere. Can you check to make sure this is the club Ryker was talking about?”
Phoebe digs her phone out. “There’s a message from Ryker. Plans changed. New address.” She looks up. “I guess they went to a different strip club.”
“I’ll order an Uber.” Hailey marches out of the place without a backward glance. Phoebe sprints after her.
I linger. The woman on the pole is super flexible and her breasts are perky despite her hanging upside down. I look down at my chest. I may be better endowed than Hailey but perky? I shake my head and follow the girls outside.
“Are you sure this is the right address?” I ask when we arrive at our next destination courtesy of Ryker. The place looks like a plain old bar.
Hailey studies the place. “Maybe they have a special stripper night?”
My assumption we’re in the wrong place is confirmed as soon as we walk into the bar. There is no stripping going on here unless the college kids get raunchy and start taking their clothes off. Heaven save me from drunk college students.
“Why are we in a college bar?” Phoebe asks.
I look around and spot a table where Aiden, Ryker, and a couple of men I assume are Aiden’s colleagues are sitting. “That’s why?” I point.
When we arrive at the table, Aiden and Ryker are exchanging money.
“Hi, Princess,” Ryker says and hauls Phoebe into his lap. He nuzzles her nape. “Thanks for winning me fifty bucks.”
“Fifty bucks?” I ask. “What did you bet about? And why wasn’t I in on it?”
Aiden snags Hailey’s hand and drags her down to sit next to him. “Ryker said you girls would be here within thirty minutes. I figured you’d want to stay at the strip club and check it out.”
I raise my hand. “I wanted to stay.”
The two men I don’t know chuckle. I hold out my hand. “I’m Suzie.”
“Sam,” says the man who shakes my hand. “And this is Trey.”
Sam stands and finds a chair for me. I sit with them as Hailey and Phoebe are now pre-occupied with their men.
“Some bachelor party this ended up being.” I point my thumb toward the couples.
Sam chuckles. “It’s fine. My wife wouldn’t let me out unless I promised we were having a tame guy’s night out.”
Trey grunts and I interpret this to mean ‘same here’.
“Are you Suzie the brewer?” Sam asks.
I smile. Whoa. What? I’m smiling now when someone asks me about my brewing? It’s looking more and more like I’m ready to take the next step and make this beer thing a business. My stomach warms with excitement. Suzie the brewer is going to be epic!
“I am. I recently finished up a batch of Session IPA. It’s a …”
My words trail off when I notice Grayson walking in our direction. He’s back. My heartbeat quickens and tingles break out across my body. He’s back and he’s here.
I beam up at him, but he walks past me like I don’t exist and takes a seat next to Trey. I try to catch his attention but he angles his seat so his back is to me. Ouch. My eyes itch and I have to blink furiously to stop the tears from falling.
Sam pats my hand. His hand is about twice the size of mine and his patting feels like blunt force trauma but it’s sweet. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” I sniff and force thoughts of Grayson into a box in my mind. A box I shut and seal with a lock. For good measure, I wrap a chain around it. “Now, where was I?”
Like the idiot I am, I try several times throughout the night to gain Grayson’s attention, but he ignores me like a pro. He laughs and jokes with Phoebe and Hailey, but whenever I try to enter the conversation, he suddenly has to use the restroom. If he really did need the restroom as many times as he’s left the table, I’d be worried about his prostate.
I give up and go home around midnight. There’s no need to torture myself with Grayson’s presence. I know a lost cause when I see one. Time to move on. And no, I’m not crying at the thought of moving on. I have dirt in my eye is all.
