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The tiny, pixie-like blonde from Roxbury has become my closest friend in the last year. She knows things no one else does –about my crush on the Reaper –among other things. But she needs to keep her mouth shut in here. I don’t want anyone else to know that stuff.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her blithely, sticking my nose in the air and dropping my phone into my lap. Fiona snorts, rolling her eyes at me.
“Right,” she drawls. “You just felt the need to watch a bunch of strippers getting dressed in your downtime.”
I catch Shawna’s smirk in her mirror beside Fiona’s dressing table. Sighing, I flip Fiona off, wrinkling my nose as she blows me a kiss, adjusting her lingerie and sky-high stiletto heels. Laughing, Fiona shakes her barely-clad ass at me as she walks out the door to the stage, and I wolf whistle after her.
Ronan Murphy strides into the dressing room through the door from the corridor immediately after Fiona leaves, casting his eye around.
“Back out at the bar, Mellie,” he orders. Uh, what? I pluck up my phone, turning it on to check the time. My eyes narrow as they lift to meet Ronan’s gaze.
“I have another ten minutes on my break.”
Ronan narrows his eyes right back at me. “Ye have a problem; take it up with Seamus. He’s out there, waiting for a drink.”
Damn it. I can’t make Seamus Fitzpatrick wait. I’ve learned a lot about the Irish mafia in my year here, and Seamus is the second in command. You don’t defy him if you want to live.
Standing, I shove my phone back into my purse in Fiona’s locker, closing the door and making my way out to the VIP room as Ronan starts pointing at strippers.
“Ye, ye, ye four, and ye, lass.” They all blink at him in surprise. “Get dressed and out onto the floor in the lounge. It’s Seamus’s stag night, and he wants lap dances.”
My footsteps falter as I blink, exchanging a glance with Carmen, one of the strippers who has been here for several years. She shrugs, going back to doing her makeup. It’s her set next, so she wasn’t one of the strippers Ronan pointed at.
Sure enough, it’s busier when I get back to the bar than when I went on my break. I had no idea Seamus was even seeing someone. Now he’s getting married? That’s out of left field.
“Mellie.” Seamus snaps his fingers at me as I pass their table, where Connor and Paddy Flynn are seated with him. “Bring some bottles for the table.”
I nod, hurrying to the bar and collecting four bottles of Seamus’s favorite whiskey. The one I poured for him the day I got my job. Niall drinks it too.
By the time I get back to the table to deposit the alcohol, the strippers have arrived, led by Tahlie, a stunning redhead with a mean sneer whenever she’s not batting her eyes at one of Seamus’s crew. I have watched her dole out blowjobs a lot in the last year. They are her signature move.
Liam Kelly, the youngest member of the crew –who hasn’t looked twice at me since Niall warned him off – is in heaven, his eyes glued on the circling strippers.
Ronan, who is kind of Liam’s mentor, is enjoying the attention of one of the strippers, Jade, who is straddling him, rubbing her tits in his face. Not for the first time, I thank my lucky stars that I encountered Niall and got my bartending job. This kind of free-for-all is definitely not my scene.
I escape to the bar, feeling Niall’s eyes on my back as I go. Fiona finishes her set on stage, but she doesn’t come down to join in the debauchery, ducking instead back into the dressing room as Carmen emerges to wolf whistles.
After a few hours, the stag night has descended into very near chaos. Everyone not associated with the Irish mafia has been hustled out and barred from the room. Tahlie sucked Seamus off in the middle of the room while Connor and Paddy laughed uproariously and showered her with dollar bills.
Liam has disappeared with Ariel, a pretty little blonde stripper, and Ronan has had a series of lap dances from every stripper here. Now he’s called more out, and he, Paddy, and Connor have lined them up against the wall, pointing to the ones they want to dance on them while the other girls wait their turn.
Seamus points to Denise, a busty dark-haired girl, and proceeds to bend her over the table and plow into her from behind. Denise looks smug as all get out, while Tahlie looks like she has swallowed a lemon. Maybe she shouldn’t give out those blowjobs like candy in a kindergarten.
I am moving over to drop off more bottles of whiskey when I freeze in my tracks. One of the newer strippers, Sally-Ann, has strutted over to where Niall is sitting, loosening her bikini top until it hangs off her shoulders. Straddling his lap, she starts dancing on him, wriggling her tits in his face.
I grind my jaw, fighting the irrational urge to grab her by her weave and rip it out of her freaking head.
No. What Niall chooses to do at this bachelor party is his business. Not mine. I have no say, and right now, that’s killing me.
I straighten my spine, walking back past them with my face averted. Warm fingers circle my wrist, holding me in place, and my feet stumble to a halt.
Glancing over in surprise, my eyes meet Niall’s as he keeps hold of my wrist. He doesn’t look away, and I can’t tear my gaze from his, so we stay here, staring at each other for about five minutes until Sally-Ann loses her temper.
“Hello, working my ass off here! Do you want to do my job or something, Mellie?”
Niall and I both turn to look at her. Niall looks like he didn’t even realize she was still there. That has to be ego-bruising for her. She really was writhing her heart out.
“Ye can lap dance elsewhere,” Niall tells her, raising an eyebrow imperiously. “Yer services aren’t required here.”
