With a Twist (Last Call #4)(36)

"We're cool, right?" Wyatt asks.

By the serious tone of his voice, I quickly raise my eyes to meet his. "Yeah …  we're cool," I assure him with a smile.

"Because tomorrow is going to be dangerous, and I want us to both have clear heads …  clear consciences. Nothing to hold us down."

"I'm good," I tell him firmly. "I've got your back, and I know you'll have mine. We're going to take these assholes down."

Wyatt reaches his hand across the table, fist clenched and wrist facing down. I do the same and we fist bump in solidarity. "Yeah …  these assholes are going down tomorrow."





Chapter 11





Wyatt





It's almost showtime. Andrea's last dance on the stage has wrapped up, and a feeling of immense happiness courses through me that she'll never have to do that again. I'm waiting at the bottom of the stage while she picks up her clothes. Part of this tease involved her stripping out of a man's blue, button-down shirt so she quickly slips it on and fastens several of the buttons.

She walks down the steps, giving me a short smile, which is what she would normally do, and I follow her back to the dressing room. As has been her habit, she pulls all the cash out of her garters and hands it to me. I immediately start counting it out while she pulls a liter of Diet Coke out of the small refrigerator Simon had put in for the girls and pours some into a red Solo cup.



       
         
       
        

"I'm going to get dressed," she says, and I just nod at her, keeping my head on the cash. When she turns her back on me, I reach into my pocket, pull out a small packet of paper, and peel the edges back. Keeping my eyes on her as she slips on a pair of jeans, I pour the powder within the packet in her drink. Turning away quickly, I start counting out the cash again.

Yeah …  I just drugged Andrea.

With a Goody's Headache Powder. We decided that we needed to go through every scene of this act we had planned out, as there were cameras all over the club. In the off chance Simon was watching, I "drugged" her drink.

After putting on a loose t-shirt, Andrea pulls her hair up into a ponytail and walks over to her soda. She picks the cup up and drinks it down, pausing only once for a breath.

"Damn …  I get so thirsty after dancing," she quips and wipes her mouth.

"I imagine …  it's quite the aerobic workout," I say distractedly while I partition the cash before me. Picking up the pile that represents her cut, I hand it to her. "Listen …  Simon wants you to dance at a private after-hours party. It will be big money. That cool?"

As per our intended plan, Andrea looks at her watch and puts on her most-tortured look. "Damn, Raze …  I'm so tired. Seriously, he wants me to go dance right now?"

"Yeah," I say, and add on. "He'll pay you a thousand dollars for a few hours of your time. And you can keep all tips. It's for some important business associates of his."

Andrea has become quite the actress and if anyone is watching on camera, they'd probably catch the greedy sparkle in her eye. "Well, shit …  I can't pass that up," she says enthusiastically with a big grin. "I'm in."

"Good deal," I say, leading her back into the main club area. "Simon wants us to wait in his office. He's wrapping up a few things, and then we'll all ride over there together."

Part one of our ruse is underway.

I keep careful watch on the clock once we get to Simon's office, as does Andrea. Just as we discussed last night, she alters her behavior …  becoming more casually relaxed, giggling at times, and even dancing around the office a bit with nervous excitement for the after-hours party. She keeps up a running dialogue, sounding slightly tipsy, definitely losing all of her inhibitions.

When Simon walks into the office a little over an hour later, Andrea is in perfect form. She even bounces up to Simon, wraps her arms around his neck, and kisses him on the cheek. "Thank you so much for this opportunity, Simon. You're the best boss ever."

She quickly releases him and trots back over toward me, doing a few dance moves along the way. Simon watches her in bemusement and when her back is turned, he gives me a thumbs-up sign. He's duly impressed I've given her a drug that is having a much better effect than whatever they shot Carla up with. 

"Let's go," Simon says.

"Grab my bag," Andrea tells me as she practically skips toward the door. "All my best dance outfits are in there."