Rafe nodded at the waitress as she finished dropping off drinks at the neighboring table. She walked to Rafe, popped her hip to the side, and winked. One look at her and it was obvious he wouldn’t have to put forth any effort into finding pussy tonight should he decide to go looking.
“My name’s Amelia. I’ll be taking care of you fine gentlemen tonight,” she purred, and Rafe could basically see the innuendo written out on her forehead. “What can I get ya, handsome?”
He smiled but was already bored with her provocative alacrity. “Whiskey.”
• • •
Fallon’s fingers caught in the small tangle that twisted in her golden brown hair as she raked them through the soft curls, loosening them a little around her face. Her makeup was scattered over the top of her vanity and her ivory robe, which had hung on its prized hook on the inside of her wardrobe door, was now covering her slender body.
Looking into the oblong mirror, she lined her lids and pressed her false lashes into place. She never particularly liked the lashes, but when you were onstage, it was important to make your features stand out—expression was half the fantasy. Finishing her face, she smoothed crimson lipstick across her full lips and blotted them gently with a tissue.
It had been a long time since she’d gotten up on that stage. Running a business had taken priority over the fulfillment the stage held, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss it. This was her life, and even if it wasn’t the one she had dreamed of, she loved it. There was something that coursed through her veins when she was up there. There were nerves, always nerves, and anyone else who said otherwise was lying through their teeth. A woman didn’t take her clothes off and expose her insecurities without getting a little woozy at the thought.
Yet at the same time, the nerves were what made her crave the stage. The power she felt from fear was compelling, and the power she felt from overcoming those fears was addictive. But there was something else that tangled around the myriad cluster of emotions: desire.
She leaned over and slowly pulled her worn black pointe shoes onto her feet, lacing the gray ribbon up her ankles.
Fallon heard a very distinct, unhappy voice mutter, “What an asshole,” a second before she heard her heavy metal door close with a loud thump.
Fallon looked up, already aware that the look on Jade’s face was going to be screwed up tight, but she didn’t expect to see the tears sheening across her eyes as well. Leaning back into her chair, she crossed her legs and frowned sympathetically at Jade, waiting for the onslaught of the mother of all rants to hit her.
“Put me back on the lineup,” Jade spat as she flung herself down on the velvet couch. The first tear fell from her eye but clung to her bottom lashes as if she were willing it not to fall.
Fallon didn’t need confirmation from Jade to know that Dexter was no longer coming tonight. The fact that she was crying said it all. Jade liked to hide her emotions—she and Fallon were the same in that aspect, always trying to desperately ward off the crippling feelings that somehow continually found a way to resurface. Besides, she would never ask Fallon to go back on the lineup if Dex were here.
“Why don’t you just go on home?” she suggested. “Or go sit at the bar and have Simone fix you one of her martinis that you love. Take the night off.”
Jade’s finger reached up and brushed underneath her eye and she sat up a little straighter. “No, I want to work,” she stated definitively. Fallon could understand that—the need to keep your mind off the ominous cloud that had enveloped your thoughts was alluring.
“All right,” she agreed. “I will put you in the closing routine and take Naomi out. For now, rotate with Amelia. She’s got a few tables in the back plus VIP, and I’m sure she needs a break from those men.”
Jade’s small feet were covered in a hot little pair of charcoal gray satin stiletto pumps, and the thin heels sunk into the plush carpet as she stood. A wicked smile started to find its way onto her sullen expression and she cleared her throat as she pulled the hem of her black dress slightly lower on her thighs. “Are you sure you want to unleash me on the headliners? I’m not in the best mood,” she advised. “I can’t play the game tonight, babe.”
Fallon laughed. Jade may be a little sour at the moment, but the headliners loved to watch her almost as much as they loved to watch Amelia. She never worked the tables, so not only would it be a nice change, but those men could definitely use a little shock factor. They’re the type of men who always get what they want, no questions asked. Bring in sweet little Jade with her innocent eyes and delightful smile, and they would be foaming at the mouth. Then wait till they learned that sweet little Jade isn’t so sweet tonight. Fallon grinned at the very thought.