I head to the dressing room feeling so much lighter. I feel like all the tension from that last time we were together was eating me alive, and now that I’ve seen him again, and we’ve talked, that I can move on from whatever that was. Maybe that whole closure thing isn’t just a bad cliché.
BUT THE NEXT night, when I see Harrison giving me that liquefying gaze from a table near the back, I know nothing is closed. Because, at just the sight of him, things start happening in my body. So I pour it all into my dancing. My body moves to the music, trying to dispel all the desire—the aching need. As the crowd forms around my stage, I lose sight of Harrison. But I know he’s still there. I feel him in the way the air is electrified.
After shift, I’ve got four privates, and it’s pure hell as each one stalks through the door and isn’t Harrison.
The second to the last is an Asian-looking guy with pocked skin and a droopy right eyelid, and there’s something about the way he looks at me that totally creeps me out. “Mr. Chang is a VIP, Sam,” Nora tells me after she leads him in. “Give him what he paid for.”
I look at her with wide eyes and mutter, “What did he pay for?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Just give him your best,” she says, and clicks the door closed.
What the hell?
The guy settles into the sofa, and I dance without looking at him. I’m counting songs in my head to keep track of the time, and by the fourth song I’m starting to feel a little better. He’s still creeping me out, but if he was going to try something, I think he would have done it already. So when, at the end of the fifth song, he stands and moves to the stereo, turning off the music, I sort of freak. I back toward the door, in easy reach of the knob.
“Take off your top,” he says in a choppy accent.
That’s all I have to hear before I’m out the door. Nora’s just coming out of the dressing room when I get to it.
I shove her back inside and close the door behind us. “That guy wanted me to take off my clothes.”
She blows out a slow breath. “I’ll take care of it. Just wait here.”
I sink against the dressing room door after she slips out, but when I hear Ben’s voice I crack it open and peek out in time to see him usher Creepy Asian Guy into his office.
“Let’s get this done before you sail,” he says just as the door clicks shut.
I pull the door closed and drop onto the sofa. I still have one more private, and if it’s not Harrison, I’m going to do some serious bodily damage to the poor bastard.
Nora pokes her head into the dressing room. “All clear. I’ll go get your next.”
I take a second to fix my makeup, then cross the hall to the VIP room and head to the stereo, turning up the music again.
“Hi, Sam.”
I spin and find Harrison just closing the door. His eyes give my body a long, slow caress before they rise to my face.
I’m shaking as I tip my head at the sofa. “Sit. I’m dancing for you tonight.”
He takes his beer to the sofa and sits as I turn up the music. I close my eyes for a second, trying to get the adrenaline pumping through my veins to settle, then start to sway my hips to the rhythm. I weave my fingers through my hair and let my body pulse to the beat, but I don’t turn to face him until I have the tidal wave of desire under control.
The air becomes static with a palpable electric charge, and when I turn to him, he’s got his arms spread over the back of the sofa, grasping the fabric as if he needs to hold on to keep himself seated. I dance closer and stop just in front of him, smoothing a hand down my body. I see him draw a breath and hold it as I let my fingertips slip beneath the low waistband of my shorts.
I close my eyes and roll my hips in a circle, imagining myself straddling his lap, rocking against him. He rewards me with a low groan that I just hear over the music.
I move my hands over my skimpy costume, brushing every part of me I’ve dreamed of Harrison’s hands touching. I’m so lost in my fantasy that I don’t even know time’s up until the music snaps off.
I spin and find the door open and Nora standing at the stereo, scowling at me. “I said, time’s up!” She grabs me by the arm and yanks me out the door. Just before it closes, I glance back at Harrison and see him blow out a breath and drop his head onto the back of the sofa.
Chapter Ten
I’M GRASPING AT any distraction, so when Izzy calls and invites me to the movies the next afternoon, I suggest a double header. We’re in the middle of our second—the new Star Trek—when Izzy nudges my knee with hers.
“Is he hotter than that?” she asks with a jut of her chin at the screen, where Chris Pine and his yummy blue eyes gaze out at us.
“Yes.”
Her eyes widen, glowing white in the silver light. “Oh, girlfriend! You got to go for it.”
I slouch deeper into my seat and stare up at the screen. “What if he says no?”
“Have you seen yourself? He’s not going to say no.”
“He’s on the rebound.”
“So?”
I look at her. “So . . . I don’t want to be his rebound girl.”
“Why not? It’s not like you’re looking to marry the guy. It’s just a hook-up.”
I turn that over in my head and realize she’s right. “So, you think I should just ask him on a date or something?”
“Don’t overthink this, Sam. If he comes into the club tonight, just tell him you want him to take you home after shift. It’s that easy.”
“You sound like you’ve done this before.”
She smiles and turns back to the screen, and I know I’m right.
WHEN WE GET to Benny’s, Izzy helps me with my boots in the dressing room because my hands are shaking so hard I can’t get the laces right.
“Chill,” she says, resting a hand over mine. “It’s going to happen.”
I let her slip my hands off my boots and lean back in the sofa. “He’s going to say no.”
“Then he’s an asshat,” she says, tugging on my laces. “But if you want him, you’ll never know if he wants you back unless you ask.”
“I feel so stupid,” I lament, throwing my hands over my burning face.
She finishes my laces and pats my leg. “You’re consenting adults. Ben and Nora have no say over who you see on your own time. There’s no reason for you not to go for it, and I’ll bet half my tips he doesn’t say no.”
I peek out from between my fingers. “You think?”
She grins at me. “I know.”
“Then why didn’t you bet all your tips?” She laughs and I cover my face again. “Oh God,” I groan, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
She pries a hand loose and pulls me up by it. “Showtime, girlfriend.”
Nora’s in the hall when we step out of the dressing room. “Move your tails. You’re late!”
She shoos us up the hall to our stages, and when I step out onto mine, the first thing I do, as always, is scan the crowd for him. It only takes a second to spot him, up near the bar, leaning against the rail that separates the mezzanine from the pit. He looks so relaxed, so sure of himself, that he stands out from the rest of the clientele. He tips his beer at me in a salute and smiles when he sees me gawking.
I suck the drool off my lower lip and watch him watching me on the stage. With every passing song, I gain more confidence when he hardly seems to notice the women circling him. Even on the occasion one swoops in, he brushes her off and his eyes never stray from me. I feel them move over me like a gentle caress as I dance just for him.
“Girlie!” Nora calls between songs, and I realize I’m totally lost in my fantasy. It seems like I’ve only been out here a few minutes. It can’t possibly be the end of my three hour shift.