Slow Burn(84)

    Axel shrugged. “Your call.” He snorted it himself. “Get yourself in the shower, chica. We’re going out.”

    “Out?” I said. I thought Axel would be angry with me because of the way I’d left. He didn’t seem to care at all.

    “Yeah,” he said. “I bought this little club, and I want to show it off. Plus, you can tell me all about why you appeared on my doorstep looking disheveled.”

* * *

    “You bought a strip club?” I said. It was called The Golden Key, and it was a classy looking place with dark wood accents and low mood lighting. The girls inside were all wearing turn-of-the-century corset things.

    “It’s a burlesque gentleman’s club,” he said, leading me over to a table in the corner. It was circular with red velvet padding on the seat.

    “Does your dad know?”

    He sat down. “Of course my father knows. If I make a go of this place, then he’s going to trust me with bigger amounts of investment money. This is all the beginning, Leigh.”

    I peered around at the place. There were three stages, each in separate parts of the room, all of various sizes. The largest was front and center. There were two women writhing up there on poles. The other stages were full as well. “What’s the difference between a burlesque gentleman’s club and a strip club?” I asked.

    “Well, burlesque is an art form,” said Axel.

    “It is?”

    “Mostly the clothes,” he admitted. “We did have some variety shows here, like traditional burlesque shows. But they weren’t as profitable as the straight-up stripping, so I discontinued them.”

    A waitress came over to our table. She was a little bit more dressed that the girls on stage. She had a tiny skirt on under her corset, instead of just a thong. She was carrying a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “Hi Axel,” she said when she arrived.

    He smiled at her. “Sometimes you gotta go where everybody knows your name.”

    The waitress winked at him as she poured our champagne.

    “I thought you were going to law school,” I said. “Why are you investing in strip clubs?”

    “Gentleman’s club,” he said.

    “Whatever,” I said.

    “I switched to business,” he said. “My dad said it was just as good, and I don’t have to go to law school now. I might get an MBA, but that’s not nearly as much time as the hassle of getting a law degree, you know?”

    I shrugged. I changed my major a lot. In Thomas, I’d been majoring in English, but I’d already been through theater, graphic design, history, and elementary education. “I guess so.”

    “You don’t like it,” he said.

    I was watching one of the girls on stage. She was hanging upside down on the pole. “How do they get those corsets off?” I’d worn a corset before. They were made up of about thirty hooks and latches. They weren’t easy to remove.

    “Oh, that’s the best part,” he said. “The girls help each other take them off. It’s our claim to fame.”

    I nodded. Right. I took a drink of my champagne.

    “Your turn,” he said. “Tell me what the heck you’re doing showing up at my door again.”

    I sighed. “I need a place to crash for a little bit.”

    He raised his eyebrows. “Couldn’t make up with the boyfriend, huh? Did he pick his baby mama?”

    For a second, I didn’t know what he was talking about. Then I remembered that the last time I’d seen Axel, I’d thought that Griffin and Beth had a relationship.

    “Actually, that turned out to be a misunderstanding,” I said.

    Axel took out a bag of coke and a small mirror, brazen as you please, and began cutting up lines. “Really? That’s interesting. I did some checking after you ran off a few days ago, Leigh. It’s the strangest thing. You’ve been missing for months. So has your father.”

    My heart sank. He was starting to ask too many questions. “Look, Axel, I can’t really talk about this.”

    He leaned forward. “Is it illegal?”

    “No,” I said. “Not exactly.”