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“Hell, no. I take care of security. Find a manager to deal with that shit.”
“Sure thing! Just introduce me to someone who won’t rob me or treat my employees like whores.” Twice in the past, I hired managers because I knew that I needed help ru
I shake my head. “I need a female manager to handle this shit.” Ginger already takes care of most of the female staff shift scheduling. She offered to take that on years ago, after one of the dancers handed me a sheet of paper with her menstrual cycle dates to plan around. I’m good at lining up apartments and chasing off deadbeat boyfriends. I’m not the guy who keeps track of hormonal schedules.
“And an onsite shrink,” Nate pipes in, earning my grunt of agreement.
Terry’s voice booms over the sound system as Ben sidles up next to me. “All sorted out. For now.”
“How?”
Ben runs his hands up and down his chest. “I told them they don’t have to fight over me. I’ll gladly take both of them out after work, tonight.”
“So you threatened them . . .”
Ben chuckles softly. After a moment’s pause, he casually asks, “What are you doing out here, boss? Oh, wait.” Glancing at his nonexistent watch with a mock frown, he a
“You can wipe that shit-eating grin off your face anytime now, Morris.”
It only gets wider.
“When do those bar results come back?” I keep my voice flat as I turn back to watch the stage.
“Why?”
“So I can fire your ass for real.”
“September.” He smirks, not in the least bit worried. “So . . . she’s still single, from the sounds of it,” Ben remarks as the first chords of a hard song come on. Every one of Charlie’s picks is different from the usual pop dance tunes. The songs are fast-paced and energetic, but with an edge, much like her on that stage. It’s as if she transforms into another person.
By the twinkle in Ben’s eyes, I know he’s egging me on. “No idea.” That’s a lie. I do have an idea. I’m pretty sure she’s single. Ta
And of course, I’ve asked him to keep an eye out.
“She’s something else,” Ben murmurs, standing straight as the curvy figure stalks out in a new outfit—a short, pleated skirt and torn-up tee—and dives right into a fancy, spi
“That wasn’t for—” I bite back the rest of my response. Fuck, I took the bait and Ben knows it, but he doesn’t call me on it. He only continues being an ass.
“Quiet and calm. Focused. Not a
“Get to work, Morris.” I’m ready to knock a few of his pretty-boy white teeth out of that arrogant mouth. But mostly, I want him to go away so I can focus all my attention on my girl.
Shit, not my girl.
Ben leaves with a triumphant grin on his face. I don’t know if he’s just goading me or if he’s not kidding about going after her. With Ben, you never really know. But what if the cocky bastard’s right and she doesn’t turn him down?
Ah, fuck.
I turn back to watch Charlie’s hips roll in a provocative twist, the tiny bikini bottoms beneath her skirt reveal enough ass to stir the all-too-familiar throb between my legs. She doesn’t even have to be naked for that to happen. She’s drop-dead beautiful, fully clothed. I’m kind of glad that she does herself up the way she does onstage, with the curls and the heavy makeup and the contacts. It means the crowd doesn’t get to see her as she is. The real her. What I got to see.
And maybe that’s what she’s hiding.
“She’s as good as Pe
“She is.” Maybe even better. The crowd loved Pe
“Is that what all this is about?” Nate prods. “She reminds you of Pe
I run my tongue over my teeth, deciding what I want to say. Nate’s not a guy I brush off. Not after everything we’ve been through together. Not when he brings up Pe
“She seems to have her head on straight, from what I’m hearing. And she can’t keep her eyes off you.”
Here we go. This is what I’ve been putting up with from Ben and Ginger. Apparently, now I’m going to get it from Nate. “I don’t know when this place turned into a fucking high school cafeteria at lunchtime, Nate.”
He ignores me. “You know, everyone here would be happy if you’d make a move.”
I peel my focus off Charlie’s muscular legs looping around the pole to look my giant confidante straight in the eye now. “Oh, yeah. They’d be really happy to watch the boss exploit the fresh twenty-two-year-old stripper,” I mutter, my voice full of sarcasm. Nate’s voice turns rough as he crosses his arms. “Yeah, they would, Cain. Well,” he adds, “maybe not China, but she’d get over it.”
My eyes roll. China’s had a thing for me for years now. While she’s respected my insistence that we keep our relationship platonic, I’m no idiot. I know her interests have lingered.
“My point is that you’ve proven your point. You’re not in this for the ass or the money or a power trip. You’re not a fucking criminal.” He levels me with one of his more ominous Nate stares. “You’re not your parents.”
I turn to match his stare and lower my voice. “Charlie doesn’t need to be tied to someone like me. I can’t do that to her.” He knows what I’m talking about. He carries my guilty secrets with him as if they were his own.
A loud round of cheers erupts and I turn back to the stage in time to see Charlie’s top fly off, a coy smile curving that wide mouth of hers as she watches me take in her black lace bra. Beneath that . . . My breath hitches. Damn. I’m pretty sure I could have that. Tonight, if I wanted. If I were a complete asshole.
Thank God my office came equipped with a private shower. I’ll have that dial cranked to ball-shrinking cold tonight. Just like every other night since she started this whole game of hers.
I never expected this from her.
And I never expected to enjoy it so much.
“Why haven’t you let her work the rooms yet, then?” Nate asks.
I take a sip of my drink. My fourth of the night. “I don’t think she’s ever worked a V.I.P. room before.”
“So what? Neither had Mercy. Or Ha
I know exactly what Nate’s getting at. I’ve never stopped any of the girls from doing what they want to make money, as long as they’re safe and it’s legal, because I’m smart enough to know that if they’ve wrapped their heads around the idea of doing it, then me telling them no isn’t going to stop it from happening. They’ll just end up at some sleazy place like Sin City or Teasers. Or worse . . . in a back alley. Somewhere no one’s looking out for them. “You know, for a man with a daily word maximum of ten, you’ve gone way over today.”