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“It’s gonna be a damn good night,” I tell him as we walk toward the front door. I nod my head at the bouncer before he steps aside and allows us in.
I’m not shocked by the atmosphere here. The music is playing, and men are gathered around, talking and drinking. The girls work the floor handing out drinks. So far, everything looks to be running smoothly.
I walk over to the bar and lean against it when I see Heather, our main bartender.
“How’s it goin’?” I ask her.
“Busy, as you can see. It’s been good so far,” she tells me.
“That’s good. I’ll be around most of the night if you need anything.” She nods her head and goes back to making drinks as I turn and survey the room. Everyone seems to be having a good time so far, and that makes me happy. Less bullshit I have to deal with.
“Didn’t know you were coming in tonight,” I hear a female voice next to me. I turn and look at Ginger, one of the club girls. She got Cage to let her strip a few days a week over here.
“It’s my night. How are things goin’?” I ask.
“Really good. Great tips, too.” She smiles at me, and I nod. That’s good for them.
“No one gettin’ out of hand?” I ask.
“Not yet. I think most of the girls can handle themselves if they do. Cage had them all trained in self-defense.” I heard he was doing that, but I wasn’t sure if he ever went through with it.
“That’s good. Glad he did that.” She nods her head before leaning in and pressing a kiss to my cheek. Then she walks away, swaying her ass for the men to see. I smirk. She’s good at this shit. She should be after all the shit she does at the clubhouse.
I lean back and watch the new girl on stage. She spins around the pole and drops down low, but it isn’t until she stands up that I shift on my feet. Is that her? No, that isn’t her.
I shove off the bar and walk closer to the stage to get a better look. I hear the men howling, calling out to her, and the closer I get, the more I know it’s her. Long hair hangs to her waist, her curves. Fuck me, what is she doing here? Who the hell hired her?
I storm up the side steps and grab her wrist before dragging her off the stage. The men boo and yell, but I ignore them and send another girl out on stage quickly.
Her? I drag her down the hallway and into a side room before slamming the door and spinning her to face me.
“What the hell are you doing?” She roars at me. That is until she sees it’s me. “What are you doing here?” She asks now.
“I could ask you the same,” I tell her. She looks embarrassed, but I can’t stop looking at her. What the hell is she doing here?
“I … it’s not what you think,” she says softly.
“You aren’t dancin’ on my goddamn stage takin’ your clothes off?” I snap at her. I see her cheeks turn pink as she takes a step back, now trying to cover herself. I rip my cut off and tug my shirt over my head before tossing it to her. She pulls it on, and fuck do I like her looking like that.
“You gonna answer me?”
“I’m doing my job.”
“Strippin’ is your job? No way. You work durin’ the day,” I tell her, knowing her schedule.
“I work nights sometimes.”
“Not here, you don’t. We just opened.”
“No, not here, but I do work.”
“You’re talkin’ in circles, Lyra. What are you doin’ on my stage?”
“Working. I already said that,” she repeats. That’s when there’s a pounding on the door. I walk past her, running my hand through my hair before pulling it open to see Ridge.
“What?”
“There’s a guy lookin’ for the girl you pulled off stage,” he says.
