AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Excuse me.”
I spun toward the soft voice. Angel stood a few feet away, his gaze fixed on me.
The party was over and most of the guests had already left. Vlado and I were near the bar and waiting on Emily to finish up whatever she and her party planner were discussing on the other side of the room.
“Yes?” I casually swept my gaze down his frame. He’d put on a pair of low-slung sweatpants and a sparkly crop top. Traces of whatever glitter he’d worn on stage shimmered on his cut stomach and slim hips.
Angel held out some bills. “You made a mistake.”
“Did I?” I asked, amused at his serious expression.
“Obviously.” He wiggled the bills at me. “No one tips this much.”
“I do.”
He shot me an exasperated look. “I’m sure the booze is making you think this is a good idea, but you’re gonna regret it when you sober up and I don’t want you coming after me to get your money back when you realize you were giving me C-notes like they grow on trees.”
“I’m not drunk, and I don’t take back tips. Ever.” I held up my hands in mock surrender.
Angel dropped his arm and looked at me suspiciously. “What’s your end game here, Mr. Fancy Shoes?”
“Fancy Shoes?” I choked out a surprised laugh.
“Yeah. I recognize those loafers. Tom Ford, right?” He shoved the bills into his pocket.
“Good eye.”
“But like I was saying,” he said, “what’s your end game? I talked to the other dancers and you weren’t slipping them hundos.”
“No end game. But…I do have a proposition for you.”
He glowered, crossing his arms. “No.”
“No? You haven’t even heard my offer.”
“Don’t have to hear it. I’m a dancer, not a hooker. If you think you can buy me, then you can fuck right off.”
“Who said anything about buying sex, or you?” I understood why he’d jump to that conclusion, but that wasn’t what this was about.
His glare softened as confusion crept into his features. “Huh?”
“Proposition was the wrong word. My apologies for how it sounded. I think it would be more accurate to say that I have a business proposal for you.”
Vlado held out one of my business cards.
Angel looked at my card, then at Vlado, then me. “Does your lackey talk, or just act like a human purse and hold all your shit for you?”
“I talk.” Vlado smiled in that soft way he usually reserved for kids or animals. “Just don’t have a lot to add to the conversation right now.”
“Other than being a human handbag?” Angel quipped, some of the suspicion leaving him. Some.
“Other than being a human handbag,” Vlado agreed.
Slowly, Angel took the card from him like he expected it to come alive and bite his hand. “A business proposal?”
“Yes,” I answered, dropping my arms. “An arrangement that will benefit both of us.”
Angel peered at the front of the card. “I think you’re barking up the wrong tree.” He flipped it over, gave the back a cursory look. “What could I possibly offer a businessman who wears shoes that cost more than I make in a weekend?”
