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“I won’t name names, but there was a rock star and his wife, and they spent about five hours in there. Watched four sex shows and three dances. Spent a fortune on champagne as well.”
And I had no idea any of this even existed.
I look back at the roster.
“Candy Cane. What does she do for three hundred?”
“Candy Cane is one of our private dancers. She’ll dance for clients. Usually half an hour.”
“Just dance?” I ask.
“Yes, just dance.”
Three hundred dollars.
I stare at the figure on the paper as an idea begins to unfurl in my head.
Eve notices. “What does that look on your face mean?” When I give her a toothy grin, it clicks, and she starts to shake her head. “Oh no, you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking?”
“If you’re thinking I’m going to become a performer, then yes, you are thinking what I am thinking.”
She groans. “No, that is a very bad idea.”
“Why? It’s good money. And I am the very definition of someone needing good money.”
“Because Massimo won’t like it. You’re friends. He doesn’t let friends perform.”
“Why not?”
“Because he likes to keep his private life separate from his professional life.”
“Then we don’t tell him.”
She laughs as if it’s a ridiculous notion—which it probably is. “You’ll never get away with it. He vets every new performer.”
“So, I’ll wear a wig and a mask for that performance. He’ll never know.”
“You know he’s a Mafia don, right? He’s alive because he can see through all the masks and metaphorical wigs of those who try to fool him.” She shakes her head. “This is a bad idea.”
“Sometimes bad ideas pave the way for those in debt, Eve.”
“Can you even dance?”
I’m mock offended. “My mom enrolled me in dance the moment I could walk.”
Dancing is probably the only thing I’m good at.
She looks pained as she asks, “Is there anything I can say to talk you out of it?”
“No, because I have three hundred very good reasons why this bad idea is a very good thing.”
Two days later, I’m wearing a long red wig and a masquerade mask while getting dressed behind a privacy screen in one of the club’s dressing rooms.
Eve chews her fingernail. “Remember, he wears a gun. If he finds out it’s you, he’ll probably shoot you first and me second.”
“You worry too much. He’s not going to know it’s me,” I say, securing a gun garter around my thigh.
I step out from behind the privacy screen, and Eve’s eyes light up.
“Oh my God, you look hot.”
I’m wearing an ankle-length lace robe over a red bikini set, and black thigh-high boots. The robe buttons from the belly button up, leaving the rest open, so when I walk, the slinky lace swirls apart to reveal my legs and bikini bottoms. I look like a sexy, gunslinging vamp who’s just stepped out of the Wild West.
“What song are you performing to?” Eve asks.
“‘I See Red’ by Everybody Loves an Outlaw.”
“Oooh, yeah, it’s a fitting song.”
It’s a powerful revenge song, and it’s kind of my anthem now.
For the past two nights, I’ve been practicing my routine in my motel room, and I’m pretty sure Rosa has fucked a few clients to it, while the roadie on the other side of me probably wished it wasn’t playing on loop while I practiced my moves in front of the chipped mirror on the wall.
“I’m still not convinced this is going to work,” Eve reminds me for the millionth time.
“Ye of little faith. I only have to conceal my identity for three minutes and thirty-eight seconds. It’ll be a piece of cake.” I click my fingers as if it will be the easiest thing in the world to pull off. “Besides, the lighting I’ve chosen is low, so it will make it harder to see my face.”
Yesterday, I met with Stu, the lighting tech, and deliberately selected a dim, shadowy setting for the audition.
I’m serious about making this work. Three hundred dollars a pop will help me out of the hole Harrison dropped me in.
And truth be told, dancing in front of Massimo and knowing I could get caught kind of excites me.
21
MASSIMO
I arrive at Lair just after three. It’s two hours before opening, and the club is empty, except for Natalie and the new bar girl Eve hired to replace Bianca. They’re behind the bar getting everything ready for the night.
When I walk through, Natalie gives me a nod, while the new girl’s face lights up, and her eager eyes track me all the way through the club.
“Oh God, he’s even sexier in real life,” she says to Natalie as I pass them.
“Eyes in front, perv, the boss is off-limits,” growls Natalie.
Which kind of makes me smile because if Natalie is one thing, it’s consistent.
Leaving the main club through the rear door, I enter the pink-lit corridor leading to the arcade where Eve is waiting for me.
