I rose of the sofa with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.”
I’d rather have been doing a different type of coming, but pancakes were still pretty awesome.
Nas and I walked side-by-side, taking in the morning sun. I couldn’t help but ask, “Where’s Vik?”
Nas slipped on her giant sunglasses and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like we spend every waking moment with each other.”
I frowned. “Uh, yeah you do.”
She scoffed. “No. We don’t.”
It sounded like there was trouble in paradise.
We walked on a while, and she asked quietly, “If Lev wasn’t committed to you, but you loved him, what would you do?”
My haunches rose. “I would kindly tell him to fuck a duck.” She sighed softly and I stopped in my tracks. “What’s going on, Nas? What happened?”
She paused a moment before she threw her arms up and rushed out, “I don’t know. You and Lev are getting married.” I threw her a look that said ‘yeah, so?’ and she shook her head gently. “I want that. And I’m not going to get that with Vik.”
My brow furrowed. “Who said? He loves you, Nas. Anyone can see it. He loves you.”
Her lip trembled. “No. He doesn’t.” She took in a deep breath and let out a long exhale. “He sleeps around, you know.” My face must have conveyed that I did not know this, because her eyes widened and she nodded. “Yeah. And then he comes to me at two, sometimes three in the morning, and sleeps in my bed. Because I let him.” She let out a humorless laugh. “He doesn’t love me, Mina. He loves that I’m a willing booty call, that I’m a sure thing. That’s all I’ll ever be to him.” Her eyes watered and she whispered a broken, “I can’t do it anymore. It hurts too much.”
“Okay, so he has commitment issues,” I started, but she shook her head.
“Don’t make excuses for him, Mina. Please,” she begged then pleaded, “I need you on my side for this one. I need a friend who gets it. Okay?”
She sounded beaten and desperate. I found myself offering her what she needed. “Okay, Nas,” I told her. “I get it.”
Her face dejected, she nodded lightly. “Thanks, shorty.”
I smiled. “Anytime.” Then I hooked my arm through hers and pulled her along. “C’mon. It’s too early for this crap. I need pancakes.”
We arrived at Sasha’s not a minute later and murdered those freaking pancakes.
Opening night arrived quicker than any of us expected, and I glanced around the room, taking in the new sights and familiarizing myself with the new layout. Everything was different. It was exciting.
Birdie helped the girls prepare, giving last-minute instruction and helping with their costumes, hair, and makeup. I was a little surprised when Sasha instructed Nas, Anika, and me to change when we got there. Apparently, it had been decided that bar staff would dress like the dancers, but at a subdued level. When I alerted Sasha to the fact that heels and I were not friends, he told me Birdie had taken care of it. I was pleasantly surprised by the low-heeled peep-toes she got for me.
We changed into our new uniforms that consisted of thigh-high fishnets, garters, black and red corset-busted one-pieces, and frilled micro skirts. One of the girls lent me a long pair of satin, fingerless gloves, and they were just gorgeous. I thought it would feel weird. It didn’t. It felt sexy. I felt sexy, and I was dying to see what Lev thought.
Once dressed, Anika, Nas, and I made our way out of the stage area, only to be howled and wolf-whistled at. I covered my face with my hands, blushing furiously, but laughing hard. Before I even had time to recover, I felt a warm, hard body crash into mine. I wrapped my arms around him with an oomph and blinked up at him. “Lev? What’s wrong, sweetie?”
He glared down at my pushed-up breasts. “What the hell are you wearing?”
A smile formed. “Didn’t you get the memo?” I waved my arm back to Anika and Nas. “These are the new bar uniforms.”
He shook his head profusely and made small grunting noises that said ‘no’ then a growl escaped him that said ‘oh, hell no’.
I placed a hand over his shirt-covered taut stomach and reasoned with him. “This is all part and parcel of changing things up. We want the experience to be genuine. Do you understand?”
His jaw tight, he growled out, “I don’t like this.” He snuffled an annoyed, “Everyone can see your goodies.”
I grinned up at him. “And only you get to unwrap me later.” I went up on my tiptoes to nip his chin. “Isn’t that just wicked?”
I heard the girls walk away and I was glad for it. When Lev reached down to palm my ass through my new costume, he took my earlobe into his mouth and sucked then whispered into my ear, “You’re naughty. And naughty girls get punished.”
My eyes rolled back at the feeling of his tongue on my lobe, but when it registered what he just said, I pulled back, wide-eyed. “Punished how?”
Oh, God, my voice was hoarse. Like, pack-a-day-smoker hoarse.
His lip twitched. “What am I going to do with you, mouse?”
“I have a few ideas,” I muttered as my eyes hooded and I pressed my lips to his, loving the way his tongue dipped in to stroke mine.
And then he was gone. Nas, rolling her eyes, pulled me away and called out, “Geez. Break it up. We’ve got shit to do. You can eye-fuck each other from across the floor, capisce?”
I took my place at the bar. The deejay Sasha had hired played soft RnB throughout the club until things got started. Sasha made his way into the bar, smirking to himself, and came straight for me. He looked excited when he stated, “The line is already three blocks down.” He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Three fucking blocks down.” He pointed a finger at me, smiling as he inclined his head, and then walked away.
I wasn’t sure what that meant.
Sasha was weird.
Half an hour later, and we all took our places, the door opened, and the club began to fill. Once we reached capacity, the door closed once more, and Nas, Anika, and I were run off our feet with flyers for free drinks on entry. We no longer served people at tables or booths. If you wanted a drink, you needed to come to us.
The lights dimmed. The deejay turned down the music, and then he spoke, “Good evening, ladies and gentleman, and welcome to the grand opening of Bleeding Hearts Burlesque.”
The crowd cheered, and I was surprised at the amount of women in the crowd. The deejay waited for the cheer to die down before he went on, “We hope you enjoy what we have to offer. Our girls are dying to meet you.”
The spotlights beamed front and center, and we waited with bated breath.
The deejay’s voice deepened huskily as he announced, “Ladies and gents, I give you…” He paused for effect. The curtains began to open. “…The Diamond Dozen!”
The twelve girls on stage looked like dolls sitting on wooden chairs. Each dressed in a different color of the same costume, the same costume the bar girls were wearing. The bass boomed as The Weeknd’s “The Hills” came to life. It was a slow, sexy song that allowed the girls to show off their moves. It was a song about a torrid affair a woman was having with an addict. The girls moved in sync, working with the chair, gyrating against them, and wolf whistles came from all over.
I saw women watch them, mesmerized, and men gaze adoringly at our girls. When Birdie hired the three new girls only days ago, I wondered if they would be ready in time, but I was proven wrong, and gladly at that.
As the song ended, the girls fell to the floor, faces cast, eyes open, like dolls that had been hypnotized into living by the music and falling as it ended.
The spotlight’s shut off and the curtains closed.
Then…silence.
My breath caught in my throat.
Oh no. Crap, no. They hated it!
My cheeks flushed a moment before the crowd went wild, standing and cheering at the top of their lungs. Whistles and eager roars went out through the air around us, and my heart boomed in my chest. I could safely say that was the scariest moment in my life.