God, I had to stop thinking about him. My emotions were all over the place. Turned-on. Nervous. Excited. And a little pissed off that he wouldn’t put in a good word for me with Brett Westhill.
I couldn’t piece it together why he didn’t want me to work at Compass. It was a classy nightclub and—
“So he flat out refused to speak to Brett about working here?” Mars asked.
I leaned back against the booth’s cerulean blue backrest twirling my glass. “Yeah.”
“Ass,” Mars mumbled.
“Well, I had snuck into his concert, and he doesn’t know how good a dancer I am. He offered me money instead.”
“That was nice. Did you take it?” Olivia asked.
I huffed. “God, no. I’m not taking money from anyone. I’ve made it this far without help.” I’d worked ever since I was sixteen. First job was as a waitress at a diner my foster parents owned. The second I was a cashier at a clothing store, and third was at a coffee shop. Then I worked for Ms. Evert in her greenhouse looking after her flowers.
I loved that job and she paid me well, so I managed to save some money and continue dance classes. It wasn’t until Ms. Evert passed away and I moved back to Toronto that I obtained my teaching certificate and met David at his studio.
Mars plopped her drink on the table. “It’s not like he’d miss it.”
“That’s not the point and you know it. And it wasn’t like we were friends or anything.” He just kissed me and infused himself in me for all eternity. He probably didn’t even remember. But for me, there hadn’t been a guy since who measured up to that kiss.
“So what are you going to do?” Olivia asked.
I nodded to one of the cages on the pedestals that were in the four corners of the dance floor that were for the paid dancers. “Dance in one of those tonight.”
Olivia gasped. “What?”
Mars laughed and slapped the table with her palm.
“If I can’t get an interview, then how can they see how good I am?” My heart pattered faster and faster like someone being walked up to a sacrificial altar. I’d never done anything so daring before. But it seemed I was on a roll this week.
“Are you insane? You’ll get kicked out. Banned.” Olivia blurted the words so loudly that a few guys standing at the bar ten feet away stopped talking and looked over at us. And when they looked, it was with interest as they each smirked, raising their glasses.
I ignored them. Mars smiled. Olivia didn’t even notice them.
“I say do it. What do you have to lose?” Mars looked at my plain black V-neck dress. “But I hope you have something else to wear.”
“She can’t,” Olivia said, then turned to me. “You can’t.”
I took another sip of my drink, hoping the alcohol would settle my nerves. “Compass is the hottest club in the city and has the best dancers. Trevor says they’re paid a lot of money. I could make in three nights what I made in two weeks at the studio.”
“But why can’t you just make them give you an interview,” Olivia murmured, knowing full well that was illogical.
“Olivia,” Mars said, “on paper she has the dance skills, but they don’t want those skills. They want sexy-as-hell-get-men-hard and stay-all-night-buying-drinks skills.” Mars stirred her drink. “But, Savvy if you’re short on cash, I can help out.”
Mars knew this wasn’t my thing. I didn’t like being the center of attention and dancing in a cage on a pedestal put me front and center.
Trying to flirt with the guys was a problem, but I was hoping my dancing skills made up for my lack of flirt ability. What I liked about Compass was the dancers were decently dressed, and the cage offered protection against any fondling or touching by any drunk patrons. I watched one of the girls hook her leg around a bar and arch over backward, her long hair touching the floor. She smiled then winked at one of the guys watching her. An inner thrum of excitement sifted through me at doing something so… well, provocative.
“Can I buy you girls a drink?”
I glanced up at the guy who had been standing at the bar with his buddies. My gaze trailed to the bar and the three friends watching. He was good looking, tall, lean, dressed in dark jeans and a navy, V-neck T-shirt that hugged his broad chest.
“Sure,” Mars said at the same time I said, “No, thank you.”
He glanced at Mars then back to me, his dirty-blond hair falling forward in front of his eyes. He grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth and dazzling smile. No wonder his friends had picked him to come over and ask us. He was cute, but I wasn’t interested in dating or otherwise with any guy. Trusting a guy again wasn’t going to be easy. For now, all I was interested in was getting my life back on track—without a guy in it.