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Sapphire’s head jerked back. “Don’t take his phone? Waiving the cover charge is understandable. The phone, MJ…”
“He swore he won’t take any pics of the girls or the customers.”
Sapphire pursed her dark red lips. “And you believe him?”
“I do, but I guess it’ll be a good test to see if my gut instinct is right and I can trust him.”
“Maybe. But why can’t he be without his phone? I figured he was dancing to make some extra cash, but is his day job important or something? Shit! Is he an emergency room doctor? Mmm. I can picture him wearing a stethoscope and nothing else.”
Shit. “No… It’s…” She needed to come up with an excuse and quickly. “His… mom is really sick and her nurse needs to be able to get a hold of him at any time.”
“Wow. She’s bad enough to have a nurse?”
Shit. “Yes… She’s in hospice.” Shit. Shit. Shit.
Phire slapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes went wide.
Mel hated lying to her like that. She should’ve come up with a better story sooner.
“Oh no! He has to be devastated.”
“He seems to be taking it as well as he can. He needed to talk to someone about it, so that’s what we did last night. And then…” Mel shrugged.
“One thing led to another… Wham, bam, thank you ma’am, and can I have another?”
Mel laughed. “Something like that.”
“Good for you, girl. I need to get a little whammy-bammy myself. From someone who doesn’t sit in those seats,” she flipped her hand toward the stage behind them, “or wear one of those gross leather vests.”
“Oh God, please don’t get tangled up with any of those damn Demons.”
Sapphire shuddered and fake gagged. “I prefer a man who doesn’t use motor oil as a cologne.”
“And keeps their facial hair trimmed neatly instead of it looking like a dead, bloated possum alongside the road.”
“And smells like one, too.”
“A man who showers daily is always a plus.”
“I bet ol’ Blaze smells diiiiiivine.” Sapphire sighed.
Mel smiled. “He does. He’s a great kisser, too.”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “Kissing? Screw the kissing. Girl, he’s got that whole hip action thing going on. How was the pop, pop, pop?” She thrusted her curvy hips the same way the male strippers had last night. “Him doing his thing on stage had to be foreplay for you.”
Mel wiggled her eyebrows.
“Damn, you are a lucky bitch. I’m soooo damn jealous. Don’t mind me, I’ll be out front pouting for the rest of the night. Maybe even imagining you two going at it all hot and heavy. Mmm mmm mmm.”
Fantasizing was exactly what Mel did last night after she got home. Once she got in bed and closed her eyes, she couldn’t stop thinking about Finn’s smooth moves on stage. She swore the man’s joints were equipped with well-greased ball-bearings. She also couldn’t get that toe-curling, panty-wetting kiss in his Kia out of her mind.
Sleep had been impossible until after she broke out her favorite battery-operated boyfriend. While her BOB did the trick in a pinch, she would’ve preferred the real thing. Now she was dying to know if his cock had freckles, too.
She smothered a giggle and got back to business. “Where did you see Taint?”
“Heading into the office with Tweedle-Dumb or Tweedle-Dee. I can’t tell them apart unless I look at their name patch and I try to avoid getting that close.” She wrinkled her nose.
“All right. I need to talk to him.”
“Find me when you’re through so I know he didn’t corner you or anything.”
Or anything.
Sapphire grabbed Mel’s upper arms and gave her a little shake. They locked gazes. “Don’t let him shut the door while you’re in there. You hear me?”
A shiver ran down Mel’s spine and she nodded. “Safety is one of the things I need to talk to him about.”
“Good luck with that,” Phire said dryly before heading through the doors to the lobby area.
Mel turned and scanned the room, her gaze finally landing on the back hallway. She inhaled a deep bolstering breath and headed in that direction.
She needed a damn raise to deal with these bikers.
Plastering on a smile, she turned on her charm as she wound her way through the occupied chairs and tables, giving her regulars a nod and pausing for a few seconds to introduce herself to any customers she didn’t recognize.
When she got to the hallway, she asked Popeye, standing sentry, “Is Ta— Saint back there?”
The shaggy-bearded prospect stared at her with dull, bloodshot eyes and shrugged. “Been fuckin’ standin’ here for the last coupla hours. How the fuck would I know?”
Mel beat back her impatience and took another deep breath, pushing past him and down the hallway, heading to the main office. When she got there, the door was closed and, leaning in to listen, she could barely make out two male voices inside.
