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“We’re actually just going to dance,” I said. It was close to eleven, and I had to change in the bathroom before I slipped inside one of the cages. Trevor told me the dancers went on a ten-minute break at the same time as the DJ at eleven-fifteen.
“Right.” Mars winked at the guy. “Sorry, sexy, but we have a covert operation going down.”
His brows dropped in confusion and then he shrugged. “Uh, yeah, sure. Maybe later.”
“Definitely later,” Mars said.
He grinned then headed back to his friends while I slipped out of the booth with my over-sized purse that held my outfit.
“I have to change. I need one of you to come get me in the bathroom when the dancers leave their cages.”
Mars held up her hand. “I’m in.”
Before I had the chance to rethink my decision, I darted through the crowd toward the washroom. The music pumped, the floor vibrated, and there was a lively energy in the club. An energy I’d need because my nerves were locking my limbs and I’d land flat on my face if I didn’t pull my shit together.
I could do this.
I was good at this.
Well, I was good at dancing. Being sexy, not so much, but wearing a mask would help with any inhibitions. No one would know who I was. I’d become someone else just like I did when I danced. I told a story. Tonight would just be a story I’d never told before.
And it wasn’t like Compass was a dive. It was a prestigious club.
I slipped into the bathroom and into a stall and quickly changed from my plain black V-neck dress to the sexy outfit I’d brought.
“Savvy,” Mars called. “Come on. The girls just left the cages.”
I took a deep breath, undid the latch of the stall and stepped out. The two women standing at the sink redoing lipsticks glanced at me in the reflection of the mirror.
“Holy shit, Sav, you look smokin’ hot,” Mars said.
“Thanks.” I wore a blue sequin unitard that had a mesh mock neck and slim leg fit. I had on black strappy stiletto heels and had taken my hair tie out, so my long red ringlets hung down my back and over my shoulders. But what completed the look was the satin black cat mask I wore with tiny pearls along the outer rim.
It was the sexiest dance performance outfit I had. I normally danced in bare feet, so the heels were a challenge. But when I’d looked up images on the Internet of the dancers at Compass, they’d all been wearing heels, so I had to wear them.
Turning toward the mirror, I popped off the lid of my deep ruby-red lipstick and leaned forward, applying it over the pink gloss I’d been wearing.
“Oh, man. The guys are going to blow their loads over you,” Mars said, watching me in the reflection.
Using my fingernail, I fixed the small smudge at the corner of my mouth and then stepped back. I barely recognized myself in the mirror, and I kind of liked the look. It was sexy, and I liked being sexy.
She took the lipstick from me, put the lid back on, and grabbed my purse where I’d stuffed my clothes. “Come on. Let’s get you a job at Compass.”
She tugged on my arm and I stumbled in the stiletto heels. Shit, I’d have to practice dancing in these if they hired me.
“You’re sexy as hell and an incredible dancer,” Mars said. “Just don’t think about anything but the music.” Her voice rose as the music blared when we came out of the washroom.
Little sparks flared across my skin. Dancing in a cage with the roar of the music and people all around had a certain thrill to it. It was nothing like in a studio with students watching or even on stage when I’d done a few minor roles in small budget plays.
Dancing to me was like jumping off a cliff and having no idea where you were going to land, but it didn’t matter because you were flying and free.
It was being fearless. No problems. No restrictions. No tomorrow.
Dancing was the only place I felt as if I had no inhibitions and could just be me.
“That one.” Mars pointed to one of the empty cages.
We weaved through the crowd to the cage on the white platform with five steps up. There was a red velvet rope across the stairs.
“Go,” Mars hissed when I hesitated. “Security.” She shoved me forward, and I stumbled up the steps and climbed over the rope. “I’ll distract him.”
I glanced over my shoulder to see a huge guy who looked like he could carry five two–hundred-pound men out of the club with ease. His gaze was locked on me as he shouldered his way through the crowd toward us.
Shit. I quickly opened the cage door and stood there for a second, frozen. Could I really do this? Did I want to? Did I have a choice? I could find a job in a clothing store or waitress or something, but I wanted to dance.
