We’re sitting close, just the small piece of glass holding our food between us, but the food delivery gave us a bit of a break, letting each of us reset from the deep conversation and the confidences Allie shared with me.
Dinner is delicious, with the anticipated lasagna and soup as mouth-watering and perfect as I could hope for. However, I pay little attention to the food, listening aptly instead as Allie gushes over her plans for Encore, going so far as to give me the breakdown of her business model for the pole dancing fitness classes.
The excitement and joy at the new undertaking is obvious as she speaks, lighting her from within with a warm glow that only serves to somehow make her that much more stunning.
“I mean, I know that fitness crazes come and go, but the big thing is striking when the iron’s hot. If I can get the women in there for the sexy classes, they’ll be happier and healthier. A bit of ‘I am woman, hear me roar,’ if you know what I mean. But most of all, I’m going to keep it fun for them, and then we’ll . . .”
She’s like a fountain of energy, words, and ideas, and as she rambles on, I find myself inordinately relaxed by the buzz she creates with her speech, her presence, with just . . . her.
Chapter 5
Allie
“Beautiful, Isabella! Now reach through the top of your head and down through your toes. Find your length . . . yes,” I encourage, seeing the already tall girl transform before my very eyes.
She’d already been a well-trained dancer when she joined my classes, but her progress has been rather phenomenal, if I do say so myself. She’s at that awkward age where girls sometimes begin to try to hide away their inner light as their bodies become unfamiliar and seemingly strange. I’m bound and determined to make sure she lets her light shine like a beacon, so bright that others can’t help but acknowledge her.
The music ends, and the whole group takes their curtseying bow, some graceful as swans and some still hatchlings finding their poise, but I applaud them, one and all.
“Great job today, ladies. I’ll see you all on Wednesday, when we begin the next set of choreo. Make sure you do your home warmups in between now and then, and listen to the music.”
There’s a chorus of ‘Thanks, Miss Allie!’ and ‘’Bye!’ from the gaggle of girls, and they leave in a mass of buns, duffel bags, and booties. It’s the flight of the tweeners, and I can’t help but grin as I watch them go.
My next class is a bit easier, ‘Baby Ballet,’ which is mostly just jumping around and having fun to music with little kids between the ages of three and five. It’s physically fun but mentally easy, which is a good thing since my mind begins to lose focus and wander back to my ‘dinner’ with Dominick.
He thought he was being so slick, but I know a date when I’m on it. There’s been tension between us for months, going back to even before the shooting. And since that awful night? Even more sparks.
I think he honestly believes he is subtle, that I’m unaware of his eyes tracking me at the club. I know he’s had people watching me as well, and while I haven’t said anything to him about it, I do know that every time I go to Petals, I’m given a security detail on Secret Service levels going and coming out of the parking lot. He’s protective of all the girls, but with me, there’s just a little extra care.
Dom doesn’t think I notice, but I do. I see everything. I watch him too . . . the way his broad shoulders sweep through the club and people move like parting seas before him, the way every word from his mouth is calculated and carefully considered, the dominant aura that surrounds him leaving no doubt of who’s in charge.
I knew he was a boss long before I knew he was The Boss, and I was attracted to him then.
I’d held back from any flirtation for the longest time out of respect for his rule, though we’d made eyes at each other so many times I thought I’d combust just from the heat of his gaze.
It’s part of who he is. I had enough pretty guys with bodies carved from stone and perfect faces when I was in the dance world. Dominick’s handsome, yes, but it’s in a dark, brooding, intellectual way. His body’s not just strong but also stocky, his shoulders broad and thick, an intellectual savage, I would say.
For months, we circled each other, always wondering which of us was going to take that first step toward something more. Spoiler alert—it was never going to be me. I’m crazy, but not that crazy. And I think he was already close to giving in and making a move, but our little dance took a very abrupt ninety-degree turn when the shit hit the fan a few months ago and my world was sent flying totally off-kilter.