Dirty Secrets (Get Dirty 4)

I’m on the verge of talking myself out of going when my phone rings. I consider not answering, just hiding away in my room, nestled in the covers. No . . . one way or another, that’s not who I want to be. Instead, I look at the name flashing on my phone. I don’t want to admit, even to myself, that there’s a small part of me that’s disappointed it’s not Dominick.

Other than that one gift with a tasteful card that simply said My heart is with you. I know you can soar like the beautiful creature you have always been, he hasn’t contacted me in two weeks, honoring the time and space I said I needed.

The note had been signed with a scratchy capital D as if I’d have thought the gift had come from anyone else. It was a painfully reminding prick that he’d encouraged me to do the pole classes in the first place, and the simple and elegant wording had brought tears to my eyes.

But this isn’t Dom. “Hey, Trish.”

Trish isn’t one to mince words, especially when she’s gone into Mom-mode. Tonight’s no exception. “Do not ‘hey, Trish’ me. Where the hell are you, woman? You should’ve been here thirty minutes ago to claim your spot in the dressing room. As it is, I’m fighting the vultures off because with you not here every night, it’s technically not ‘yours’ anymore. I’m about ready to get my damn pepper spray. Hey, I said hands off!” she says, and I can’t help but smile as I hear her continuing to rant on the other end to someone in the dressing room. “You’d better back that ass up. This station is Allie’s tonight, so tonight is the night you learn to share a mirror with someone else. Shoo . . . that’s right, there ya go.”

Ah, Trish. Bubbly but fierce as fuck. God, I love her. “Thanks for looking out, girl. But I don’t know if I’m coming.”

Trish’s laughter rings out in my ear. “What the fuck ever! If you don’t get down here ASAP, there’s going to be a riot, backstage and front of stage too. Fuckin’ house is damn-near chanting your name. So if you’re bailing, you’d better give a girl a head start to get outta dodge. There won’t be a sequin left standing if this place pops.”

The crowd doesn’t bother me, but it doesn’t excite me like usual either. I take a deep breath, shaking my head. “I don’t know if I can, Trish. I know he’s there.”

Trish clucks her tongue, lowering her voice. “Look, honey, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Dom. I just know that he’s been a beast for the last couple of weeks. But you’ve both promoed this appearance like mad, and I’m pretty sure you need the money. I’m not shitting you. This place is packed wall to wall. Me and a few of the girls, we dropped hints with the right people. You know, the gossipy folks. Told them you’ve been working on a new trick or two and were gonna knock some socks off, theirs, not yours, obviously, because nobody’s working the pole in ugly ass socks.” She waits for me to laugh at the bad joke, but at my silence, she keeps going. “Bottom line, you’re a dancer, right? Don’t let drama steal your bankroll. Drama is gonna pass, but those greenbacks will too, so you’d better get ‘em while the getting’s good.”

She’s right. I do need the money. But it’s not enough motivation to face him.

“Plus, don’t let Boss Man keep you down. You get up there and do your job like a pro and show him that whatever he did, he fucked up the best thing he’s ever gonna have. Because you sure as hell are, Allie. Show him that you can handle yourself, with or without his nonsense. Don’t let him take this from you too.”

That lights a fire under my ass, and I reach down, snagging my bag. “You’re right. I’m on my way.”

Trish’s grin is audible over the phone line, and she hums happily. “That’s my girl. I’ll meet you at the back door. One thing. Don’t you dare tell that man that I said one ugly word about him. I got a family to support, Allie.”

It’s a joke, but also there’s a healthy dose of fear in her words and I’m reminded that while I’m lost in relationship drama with Dominick, he truly is a man most people are scared of.

I’m not scared of him, though. I’m pissed at him. The thought somehow gives me an extra boost of power, and I strut to my car.

“Trish, I hundred percent promise you, it stays you-me-God. That’s it.”

Twenty minutes later, I park in Petals’s lot and head to the back door, the same as I have so many times before, but I’m different inside. Gavin, who’s on door security, doesn’t even have a chance to open it for me when the door bursts open and Trish barrels through, sweeping me up in a big glitter-fueled hug.