Chapter 6 Cash #2
One of the dancers walks by our table and shoots Barrett a wink with a coquettish smile on her pink-painted lips. He tilts his head to get a better look at her as she walks up to the bar and leans over, saying something to one of the bartenders.
“I like the new talent Sylvie’s hired,” he says.
I nod in agreement. “Good-looking girls.”
Sylvie, the house manager, has a knack for finding some of the most beautiful women to perform here. She runs a tight ship, too. No extracurriculars happen in this place that would bring the attention of local law enforcement.
The dancer who Barrett was eyeing returns to the table with three beers and two more girls.
“Thought you might want another round,” she says, smiling at Barrett.
“Sure do, sweetheart. You’re new here. How do you like it so far?” he asks her.
“It’s great. No trouble, and the customers aren’t hard on the eyes, either.” She smiles as her gaze travels over my brother, who is casually sitting back in his chair.
His grin widens as he sips his beer. Just because Sylvie doesn’t allow any funny business in the club, that doesn’t mean Barrett hasn’t taken a dancer or two home over the years.
“Maybe we should take this to one of the rooms. Make it a private party,” the dancer closest to me says as she glides her hand over my shoulder.
When I don’t answer, Barrett chimes in. “Sounds good to me. Come on, Cash.”
It’s not as though I haven’t enjoyed my fair share of private dances, but I’m not particularly in the mood tonight.
Seeing my mood written all over my face, Barret kicks my foot and says, “Come on, brother. You need to loosen up, and what better way than to have…sorry, girls, what are your names?”
The one next to Barrett answers, “I’m Destiny and that’s Angelina.” She points to the blonde who is now playing with the collar of my shirt, swiping her finger between the neckline and my collarbone. “And that’s Chanel,” she says, pointing to the girl whispering something in Braxton’s ear.
Fuck it. Maybe Barrett’s right. I need a night of letting loose and having a beautiful girl shaking what the good Lord gave her over me isn’t the worst way to spend an evening.
“Lead the way,” I tell Destiny. The girls know which rooms are occupied and which aren’t.
“Thank Christ,” Barrett says with a wide grin. “There’s life in you, after all.”
I roll my eyes, and Angelina slides her hand down my arm and laces her fingers with mine, pulling me up. “Follow me,” she says with a coy smile.
The girls walk ahead of Barrett, Braxton, and me through the low-lit hallway covered in purple-and-black wallpaper.
They lead us to a door painted black and open it to reveal the VIP room.
It’s been a while since I’ve seen the inside of one of these rooms. Sylvie must have been busy redecorating.
The walls are lined with velvet couches in a deep midnight blue, and there’s a small stage lit from the inside in the center of the room.
Ropes of blue lights outline the ceiling—making the walls and ceiling look as though they’re glowing.
It gives the place a sexy ambience. Good job, Sylvie.
And here I am paying more attention to the decor of the room than the woman leading me to the couch, lightly pushing me onto the velvet cushion.
Get it together, Cash.
Destiny grabs the remote for the sound system as Barrett settles in a few feet from me on the couch with Braxton a little farther down from him.
When the deep bass begins thumping through the speakers, Angelina starts dancing in front of me.
She’s a gorgeous girl, but when she bends over me, her blonde hair that covers my face is the wrong shade.
The hand trailing over my shirt doesn’t feel right, and her fruity perfume isn’t the light floral scent that I prefer.
None of this feels right.
And it hits me that I’m not the same man I was last time I was here.
Not by a long shot.
I place my hands on her shoulders, and she smiles. But the smile fades as soon as I gently push her away.
“Sorry, honey. You’re great, don’t get me wrong, but I have to go.”
I stand and Barrett looks over at me. He must see something in my face—something it seems everyone has noticed except me—because he grins and shakes his head.
“Another one bites the dust,” he says on a laugh, and I roll my eyes.
Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my wallet and hand Angelina several bills. Though the brothers are entitled to dances, tipping better than the average customer is a must. Ozzy and Sylvie insist the girls’ time is paid for, even if the house fees are waived.
Angelina looks slightly confused and more than a little worried, as though she did something wrong. But Barrett calls her over to where he is, and the girls double-team my brother, who looks as though he’s having the time of his life.
“I’ll catch you later,” I call over the music and head out of the room and back into the main area of the club.
When I get to my bike, I head out of the parking lot and back to the clubhouse. My mind wanders to the work I plan to do tomorrow, the stain I need to order for the front porch, and the carpet samples I have for the bedrooms.
Then I picture Cece in the kitchen with her flour-covered apron.
That brings a smile to my face. I wonder what she would think of the kitchen, hell, the whole house.
Would she feel at home there, like I’m beginning to?
Would she like the giant stove I installed that would be enough to bake for an army… or a coffee shop in town?
As soon as the idea strikes, it’s as though every detail I put into the space this last week makes sense. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get through to her, how to get her to talk to me.
Maybe I need to bring us back to basics. Back to when she had faith that she could tell me anything or just simply be with her thoughts, but I was only ever an arm’s reach away. Back before she started lumping me in the same group as everyone else and shut me out just the same.