With A Twist(14)

Raze keeps his eyes pinned on me, but he finally acknowledges Mike. “Fine. But one fuck up and months of hard work are down the drain… and a very dangerous man is going to walk free.”

I don’t bother acknowledging his threat, just continue to stare at him. With a frustrated grunt, Raze pushes his hands through his hair, scratches the back of his head, and then slouches back down in his chair again.

“Okay,” he says, his voice now sounding a bit more professional. “You’re going to come in tomorrow afternoon for an audition before me, Simon Keyes, and his second in command, Lance Portman. I make the hires but the ultimate decision to nix one of my choices is in Simon’s hands, so you need to impress him. I’ll lay your background out to him ahead of time, and tell him that I’ve targeted you as one of the marks.”

“What’s going to make me so appealing to him?” I ask.

“Because you’re expendable and no one will care. You have no family, no close friends, and no ties. You’ve been arrested before on drug charges, so he’s going to assume you use, which makes you more vulnerable.”

“What’s my demeanor supposed to be? Harsh? Meek? Confident?”

“Be confident when you’re on stage,” Raze says thoughtfully, “but not when you’re off it. You can come across as a bit of a scared rabbit, but mostly, you need to be desperate for this job. Willing to do anything to land it and keep it. He needs to have the feeling of complete power over you right away, that you’re not going to be scared away, and that you’re in this job for the long haul. He wants to have confidence that you’re going to keep coming back for his brand of shit until he’s ready to sell you.”

“So I need to give him a bit of my backstory… convince him of my desperation?”

Raze gives me a short smile, and it’s starting to become clear to me… maybe he’s testing my mettle. “Sweetheart, the only thing you need to do is give him a lap dance that produces a hard-on. That’s all he’ll be looking for. He will then look to me to verify that you fit the profile of what he wants.”

I don’t flinch this time over his crudity, possibly because it was said with a twinge of humor. But I have had enough of his doubts over my abilities, deciding to show him that I can hang with him and all his undercover debauchery. Leaning across the table, I murmur in my sexiest, southern voice. “Baby… any man within a twenty-foot vicinity of me tomorrow is going to have a raging hard-on when I’m done dancing. I suggest you learn how to discreetly adjust yourself so you don’t get embarrassed.”

Mike coughs again behind his hand and shifts in his seat. God, I hope that didn’t give him a hard-on, but I don’t spare him a glance. I hold Raze’s stare, which I’m happy to say is not as smug as it was ten seconds ago, and then he surprises me with a full and genuine laugh.

Giving me a nod of approval and still smiling with good humor, Raze says, “I’ve been duly warned. But we have a lot more to discuss. I want to fill you in on every person at the club, and even though you can’t trust any of them, there are a few girls that will help to look out for you, and I want you to make friends with them. I want to go over your cover again and again until I’m satisfied that you know it inside and out and that you don’t flinch when you hear the word ‘pussy’ because you’ll hear it several times a night while you’re working, and then I want to discuss how we can communicate safely if it becomes necessary.”

I take a shallow breath and blow it out softly. “Okay, then… let’s get to work.”

“One other thing,” Raze says softly. “I’m going to have to assume you know what to wear tomorrow?”

“She’s got it covered,” Mike asserts. “Whole new wardrobe.”

“It’s more than that,” Raze says, shaking his head. “You need makeup… get some long, fake fingernails… do something sexy with your hair.”

“Okay,” I say confidently. “That’s not a problem.”

“Wax,” Raze says, still holding my gaze firmly.

“Wax?” I ask, dumbfounded, and I notice Mike shifts in his seat again.

“You need to get waxed… everywhere. Simon requires it.”

Crap. I hate getting waxed. Hurts like a bitch, but I also know in this line of business, it’s the easiest way to maintain a well-groomed crotch line.

“Fine,” I grit out. “Anything else I need to do about my appearance?”

“Just try to remove that steel pole out of your spine and I think we’re good.”