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I should have teased him more, done it on the stage instead of up close. I should have saved that.I’d gotten carried away, too into the pleasure and thrill of it. I could have lured him back with the promise of more.
Too late now.
Thankfully, despite my mood, I’ve managed to keep my attention on the other customers. I know I won’t get another chance with Igor, and I can’t count on Mikhail swooping in and saving me. The last couple of nights haven’t been windfalls, but they’ve been decent enough to please Igor and make my nights profitable, and I hope tonight will be better.
By the time two a.m. rolls around and the bartender shouts last call, I’m pleased with how it’s gone. I’m tired, my body sore, but I’d taken two customers back to the champagne room and had a second solo on stage requested, along with endless floor dances. When I count out my tips for the night, it’s more than I made all week, excluding Mikhail’s contributions, and I’m not upset with it.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Ruby says, popping up near my elbow and making me jump a little. “I know if I do, you’llslide right out of here, and I won’t know where to find you, since I don’t even get to know where you live.”
She loops her elbow through mine as I fold up my tips, leading me back to the dressing room. “Come on. I’m going to give you something to borrow for the party. You can’t wear those baggy street-rat clothes you wear all the time to this. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life there, and he’ll sweep you away from all this.” She rolls her eyes dramatically, and I groan.
“There’s going to be guys there? Ruby–”
“What? You thought it was just girls’ night? This is aparty. I know you’ve been to a party before.”
Not like this.The parties I’ve been accustomed to have been elegant, expensive affairs, full of designer gowns and gossip, string quartets, and expensive catering. This isn’t the sort of party I’veeverbeen to, and I feel a shiver of nerves that I hadn’t expected.
I’d very much like to go home and go to bed.
I don’t want to disappoint Ruby, though. I remember standing in the charity shop with her, looking at clothes, wondering how I could be the sort of friend to her that she’s been to me. I know that this is the answer. I can swallow my nerves and my desire to hide away in my apartment and go to her party. No one will be there who can hurt me, who will know me, who can blow my cover. There’s no real reason not to go.
I plaster a smile on my face. “Of course, I’ve been to a party before. What am I borrowing for this one?”
Ruby grins, reaching into her bag to fish out a black sequined dress that sparkles in the dressing room light. She holds it out,the fabric rustling. “Here. This should fit you, and it will lookfantastic.”
I reach for it a tad reluctantly, pulling it over my head and shimmying into the tight fabric. It clings to me, holding on by thin straps at my shoulders, and when I turn and look in the mirror, I have to admit it does look good, even though I’m not sure it suitsme. It’s flashier than anything I would have worn in my former life and makes me stand out more than I’m comfortable with now. Paired with my black hair, pale skin, and red lips, I look like a femme fatale, albeit one who sparkles a little bit more than strictly necessary.
“Here.” Ruby holds out a pair of silver hoops in my direction. “You need jewelry.”
She changes into a gold dress made out of some kind of shiny, stretchy material that folds and drapes over her curves and clings to her thighs even higher than the dress I’m wearing does on mine and slips dangling earrings into her ears before packing up her bag and turning to me with a bright smile.
“Let’s go. We’re stopping at the liquor store first.”
“We shouldn’t be walking out on the street like this, especially not so late.” I feel a sudden cramp of fear in my stomach, longing for my loose clothing. I remember the panic of those footsteps behind me earlier this week all too well, and I haven’t forgotten Mikhail’s appearance either. I can’t reconcile him showing up so close to where I live, no matter how I try or how hard I try to pretend like it’s not strange. All complicated thoughts of the way it made me feel aside, there was no reason for a man like him to be in a place like that, that I can think of.
Unless–
He might not be stalking you. It might have had nothing to do with you. It could really have been a coincidence–if he’s the kind of man who does work for men like your father used to be. If his “errand” in that part of town wassomeone,notsomething. Someone who needed dealing with.
If that’s true, then it’s not any better. If he works for the Bratva,anyBratva, and mentions me…
Cold fear licks down my spine, and it takes a moment before I realize that Ruby’s talking and I haven’t heard a word that she said.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, seeing a flicker of annoyance on her face when she realizes I zoned out. “I’m really tired. But I’ll rally, I promise. What did you say?”
“I said we’ll take a cab. My treat. There’s no way we’ll be walking out this late.” She tugs on my elbow. “Come on. People will be showing up soon, and I need to have everything set up.”
She hails a cab when we’re outside, giving the driver directions to a nearby liquor store. It’s starting to lightly rain again as he pulls up in front of it, and we make a dash for the door, not wanting to get soaked. We’re both laughing as we step inside, and it takes me a full second to realize that the voice I hear as we walk in is one I know.
What the fuck?
The man standing at the counter, his palms on the glass as he leans forward, urgently talking to the man behind it, is Mikhail. I know it’s him, even with his back turned. I know the sound of his voice.
What is he doing here?
I dart behind a shelf of bottles, but not fast enough. I see Mikhail turn at the sound of our footsteps and laughter, the bell jingling at the top of the door, and his eyes light on me a second before I disappear.
Fuck.
