“It’s Sasha. I know you two don’t exactly get along.”
"Aw hell. She hates me. Sending me there is bound to just piss her off."
"I know the last time you saw her things were tense but I think she'll be glad to see you now. Kay says things are pretty bad. I think her boss has been pressuring her to do more than sing, if you know what I'm saying. And he’s doing the same thing to some of the other girls, too.”
Eli did a background check on me before I was hired so I'm sure he knows my mom was a stripper back in the day. I grew up in and out of clubs like the Black Kitty so I have some personal history with the kind of men who run them. And if Sasha's boss is pressuring her for anything she's not willing to give, I'll consider it a public service to introduce his face to my knuckles.
"I'll do it," I say quietly.
“Thank you. Sorry to bother you while you’re off but I’m in D.C. this week wrapping up some stuff and Kay just told me. I’d love to take care of it myself but thanks. I’ll owe you one.”
"Trust me, it'll be my pleasure."
After we hang up, I start my bike and strap on my helmet. The Black Kitty is the next city over, Virginia Beach, so it won’t take long to get there.
The traffic is light and I weave in and out of lanes to reach the club. It’s nothing more than an old warehouse that’s been converted. It looks like a tin box sitting in the middle of a gravel parking lot. I stow my helmet on the back of my bike and walk past the line of people waiting to get in. One of the guys backs up a step and bumps into me.
“Hey, watch it!” He takes one look at me and holds up his hands. “Oh … sorry dude. My bad.”
I keep walking until I reach the front of the line. There’s a guy manning the door who’s the size of a mountain wearing huge diamond earrings. His pale head gleams bald under the neon lights over the door.
“You must be Tank. I’m Lou. Sasha’s in the back getting dressed. Once her number is over, she’ll meet you at the bar.”
I wonder briefly how he knew it was me, and then realize Eli must have called him. We shake hands and he stands back to allow me to enter. Several people in the long line waiting to get in make disgruntled noises but when I turn to face them, the entire line goes silent.
“The guy who owns this club, Lattimer, he’s a real piece of work. I’ve seen the way he treats some of the girls and I don’t like it. If you need any help, I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks man.” I cross through the dim entrance and into the body of the club. It looks like any other bar at first glance, bad techno music, alcohol flowing and guys hitting on girls who aren’t nearly drunk enough to go home with them yet.
“Tank! What are you doing here?” Sasha doesn’t exactly look happy to see me but at least she’s not hitting me with her purse this time.
“Eli sent me.”
She nods and hops up onto the bar stool next to me. She’s wearing a long gold dress covered in some kind of sparkly shit. I know nothing about women’s clothes but I can definitely appreciate that it dips low in the back exposing a ton of caramel colored skin. She’s a beautiful girl with high cheekbones, big brown eyes and long braided dark hair. If Finn were here, he’d be all over her. He’s always been a ladies’ man.
“Thanks for coming. Things have been pretty bad lately.”
“So where is this fucker?” I scan the other people at the bar. The bartender is at the other end, pouring colorful drinks and chatting with the two girls leaning over the bar flirtatiously.
“He’s in the back. He usually doesn’t make his appearance until the end.” She leans closer, glancing around before she says, “He’s been making threats, telling a lot of the girls they’ll be let go if they don’t accommodate him. My friend was backstage on the verge of tears. She’s just waitressing here trying to earn tuition money. She shouldn’t have to deal with this crap. Oh, look here she comes. Emma!”
I can feel it before I even turn around. Somehow I just know it’s her. There’s a shift in the air and then she’s there, standing next to me, chatting with Sasha. My eyes land on her costume or lack thereof. She’s wearing the tiniest skirt I’ve ever seen and a little bikini top that pushes her breasts up like ripe fruit. It’s covered in purple sequins.
When her eyes finally land on me, she makes a sound that’s a cross between a groan and a squeak. “Tank? Oh my god.” She crosses her arms over her chest and the tray she’s carrying falls to the ground. Automatically, I bend to retrieve it which puts me right on eye level with the cleavage.
Hell.
Time stretches between us painfully as Sasha looks back and forth between us warily. “You two know each other?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
We both speak at the same time. Emma looks appalled. Her hands are still covering the front of her bikini top and from the death glare on her face, I’ll lose an eye if my gaze drops anywhere below her neck. It requires a remarkable amount of self-control on my part because the one look I got was spectacular.
Which of course means I can’t help messing with her a little.
“Emma Shaw. Is that you? You look … different somehow. I almost didn’t recognize you.”