“I thought I’d never see you again, Cassie.”
My eyes shot open behind my mask. “How—?”
“Your bracelet. I recognized my charm.”
“You mean my charm,” I said.
“I like you better as a brunette,” he said.
I turned around quickly. My breasts brushed his chest. My heels put us almost eye to eye. I felt a sexy toughness swell inside me.
“Well, I liked you better as Prince Charming,” I said. I might have been wearing a mask, but I could finally see beneath his. While mine hid a few common fears and insecurities, below his surface I sensed menace; women served a purpose, and when he was done with them, he would discard them. He was lovely for a fantasy night, but beyond that, I couldn’t imagine a life at his side.
“I’m not yours,” I whispered. “If anything, it’s the other way around.”
Just as the spotlight found us again, Pierre reached a hand to my cleavage and tugged it open. He dropped dozens of gold coins down the front of my bodice, letting a few tinkle to the floor for effect. It shocked me and left me feeling icy cold. The crowd seemed unsure whether to clap or to boo Pierre. The spotlight turned to the stage again, where the ladies were doing their high-kick finale.
“Let go of her,” said a voice in the dark. “Or I’ll kick you hard in the teeth.”
I saw a figure approaching, silhouetted by the lights. But I didn’t need some man coming to my rescue. I jerked my bodice out of Pierre’s grasp and smacked backwards into Will Foret, who placed a warm hand on my waist to steady me.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I said. The snare drums were drawing the finale number to a close.
Will turned to Pierre, who was still leaning arrogantly against the wall. “This isn’t a strip club, Pierre.”
“I was just rewarding this beautiful dancer with the proper currency,” Pierre responded, his hands raised in surrender.
“You grabbed her dress. That’s not allowed.”
“I didn’t know there were rules, Will.”
“That’s always been your problem, Pierre.”
Applause broke out in full now, and everyone around us took to their feet in a standing ovation for the girls onstage.
Pierre brushed one sleeve and then the other, straightened his jacket, then offered me his arm.
“This is over, clearly. Let’s get out of here, Cassie.”
At the sound of my name, Will turned to me, his mouth open. I couldn’t tell if he was impressed or disappointed.
“Cassie?”
I pulled off my mask.
“Hi,” I said, hands on my bodice. “What can I say? Last-minute replacement.”
Will stammered, “I—I thought—I … Holy shit. You look incredible.”
Pierre’s patience was wearing thin. “Can we go now?”
“Yes,” I said. But at that moment, I saw Will’s shoulders drop, the same way they had at the Ball after Pierre scored the winning bid. Turning to Pierre, I added, “You can go. Anytime.”
I took a tentative step towards Will to punctuate the fact that I was making my choice.
“It’s you,” I whispered. “I pick you.”