Stirring Up Trouble(46)
“Braden was just showing me where he kept his . . . spices.”
Christopher stared with a slight smirk on his face.
She coughed. “Yes, well, I’ve got some work to do.”
She didn’t look back at Braden as she hurried out of the closet and up to the stage. She did overhear him telling the chef not to serve their bread to the customers, which confirmed he really believed she could pour her emotions into the food.
Even though he’d kept that tidbit of information from her, she realized the weight she’d carried for days had lightened. She was in love with Braden. And for the first time, it didn’t scare her.
CHAPTER 16
Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
in the contempt and anger of his lip!
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, act 3, scene 1
The restaurant was packed for lunch, every table occupied and a ten minute wait at the door.
Braden watched as Lola worked on a new song in the corner. Lightly strumming her guitar, she played quiet enough that it didn’t disturb their customers, but he heard it. It was beautiful. Haunting. Familiar. In his bones, he knew she’d composed the perfect melody to impress the music producer. Now he had to write the perfect lyrics to go with it and she’d win that record deal. Then leave for California.
He’d see her again. She’d come back for Portia’s wedding and for some of the holidays, but what they had together would be over. He’d have to pretend it didn’t kill him when he hugged her as a friend. She might even bring a boyfriend with her. And he’d have to tie his hands together not to beat the loser’s face in.
But even if she stayed, what could he offer her? He’d already racked up one failed marriage because he couldn’t handle commitment.
Lola didn’t just walk into a room—she exploded. She was a beacon of energy, fiery and passionate. As bright as she burned, you couldn’t turn away from her brilliance. He didn’t want to be the one to extinguish her light.
Jenny walked up the steps of the stage and whispered in Lola’s ear. Lola’s eyes widened and she nodded. His head waitress turned on the microphone. “Ladies and gentleman, I’m Jenny, your friendly waitress and today’s entertainment. For your viewing pleasure, I give you a very special dance.” She hooked her iPod to the speakers and the song, Leave Your Hat On blared throughout the restaurant.
What was she doing?
Lola stepped back but stayed on the stage, biting her lip and hopping up and down with nerves. Why would she be nervous?
Everything suddenly became clear when Jenny removed her shirt.
Braden ran into the kitchen. “Christopher, I thought I told you not to serve the bread.”
His head chef was at the stove, sautéing chicken. “I didn’t. I gave it to our staff. Why? Was it bad?”
Braden growled and ran back into the dining room. Two of his other waitresses and a waiter had joined Jenny on the stage, each of them in a different stage of undress. Jenny was now stripped down to a black lacy thong.
Some of his patrons had left, but since the majority of the lunch crowd were businessmen, there were plenty of customers hooting and hollering for Jenny to finish her strip tease.
Lola was trying to talk some sense into Jenny, but it was as if she didn’t hear her. Lola stopped the music, but his head waitress continued her dance.
Braden called to the bartender, Stephan, for help in corralling Jenny and the others into the kitchen and out of sight.
They’d just stepped on the stage, when he heard the sirens.
Three police officers strolled through the front door with a smug looking Jon behind them. How the hell had he found out about this so quickly?
“Jenny, you need to get your clothes back on, or the nice policemen are going to arrest you for indecent exposure,” he said, trying to get her shirt over her head.
“Screw it,” said Stephan, grabbing Jenny by the waist, hoisting her over his shoulder and carrying her off to the kitchen. She didn’t seem to mind, a huge smile on her face.
The others on the stage must not have eaten as much bread because they started picking their clothes up off the floor and getting dressed, their cheeks stained with embarrassment.
Braden jumped off the stage and met the officers at the front of the restaurant. “Officers, can I get you a table or would you like to order a carry-out?”
“Are you the owner of this establishment?” the oldest looking officer asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“We received a call you were illegally running a strip club in here, which is against city ordinance. This is the second call in the last month we’ve received about inappropriate sexual conduct on the premises.”