2. Evan #2
When he popped back up, he tore off his pants and tossed them aside, timing the move to the change in the song’s tempo. The tiny green briefs barely covered his full ass and showed off his toned legs.
The crowd went apeshit. Several of the guests jumped out of their chairs and rushed to the stage to toss bills on it. Grinning at them, Angel sauntered over to the pole in the middle of the stage.
He moved in time to the music, rolling his hips and grinding against the pole. He leaned back, using the pole to stabilize himself, and ran his hand over his chest and abs as he mimicked fucking someone. The way he had his head thrown back and his eyes closed was as sexy as his dancing.
He worked the pole for another twenty seconds or so, whipping the crowd into a frenzy as he teased them.
Then, he focused on the dais for the first time, his gaze flicking between me and Vlado.
He tossed us a mischievous smirk and winked before turning his attention back to the throng of women currently making it rain on stage.
Emily had provided each of her guests with a stack of small bills to tip the dancers, and I’d brought along a float so people could exchange bigger bills as the night wore on and they worked their way through their stash.
During the short interlude about two thirds of the way into the song, Angel shoved away from the pole and jumped off the stage. His eyes on our table, he sauntered through the audience and right up to the small stage in front of us.
His smirk fell on Emily as he stepped onto the platform, but his gaze once again flickered to me, then Vlado, then me again. He held my eyes, then jumped onto the pole.
Lithely, and as if gravity weren’t a thing, he scrambled up the pole to the top. Not missing a beat of the song, he flipped and spun around it, his legs and body a blur of movement as the pulsing lights in the club reflected off him.
He spent the next minute or so working the pole, his feet never touching the ground. He alternated between complex moves that were pure art and bumping and grinding sinuously to the music.
As the song neared the end, Angel flipped so he was upside down, his extended legs gripping the pole, his arms out at his sides. This version had to be a remix, and rather than fade out, the famous string part overlayed the outro.
Without warning, Angel seemed to lose his grip. He slid down the pole, racing toward the stage floor head first. My breath tore from my lungs.
“No!”
“Oh my god!”
“Shit!”
Vlado sprang forward, as if to try to catch the dancer before he smashed into the hard floor.
The whole crowd drew in a sharp gasp but then, in a move that defied the laws of both physics and reason, Angel came to a sudden stop on the pole, his head only inches from the stage.
Time slowed. Vlado laughed and applauded enthusiastically as he settled back in his seat. The rest of the crowd seemed frozen, like me. We all gaped at Angel as he hung there while the last few notes of the song played.
The music shifted into an instrumental of a classic ballad I vaguely recognized. Angel put his hands on the floor and flipped off of the pole, a huge smile on his flushed face.
As Emily and Vlado clapped and cheered for him, the others in the club followed suit.
I sat there like a statue, my heart still pounding from that reckless move.
Angel jumped onto the platform and knelt in front of Emily. She giggled like a schoolgirl as he held out his hand for hers. He kept his smile playful as he kissed her hand, but the look he shot me was filled with heat and appreciation.
Em held out her hand in a “just a second” gesture and made grabby hands at me with the other.
Vlado already had a small stack of bills ready and passed them to me. I gave them to Emily.
Angel waited as she peeled off a few and motioned for him to stand. Still grinning, he moved closer so she could slip the bills into the top of his briefs.
Rather than watch my sister grope him, I dug my wallet out of my pocket and thumbed out a bill.
Angel glanced at my hand when Emily finished tipping him and shot me a teasing smirk.
I held the bill out to him. He moved to stand in front of me, but rather than slide the bill into his briefs, I pressed it against his hand.
Angel’s smile faltered but was back so fast I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been so taken by his beauty.
His big blue eyes and mop of blond hair fit his moniker, but his smile was transformative. Vlado was the only person I knew whose smile completely changed their face. Angel’s was big and bright and so stunning it was hard to look away.
Eventually, Angel broke our eye contact and turned back to the stage, where the line of women waiting for their turn on the platform grew and grew.
“Well, big brother, you still want to spend the night on your phone?” Emily said knowingly.
Ripping my eyes from Angel, I looked at my sister. “I suppose I can take a few hours off.”
The server from before appeared, a fresh glass of champagne and a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries on his tray.
Only then realizing I hadn’t touched my drink, I picked up my sweaty glass and sipped the cool liquid, barely tasting it as my mind spun.
Could Angel be the answer to my dilemma?
* * *
“Excuse me.”
I spun toward the soft voice. Angel stood a few feet away, his gaze fixed on me.
The party was over and most of the guests had already left. Vlado and I were near the bar and waiting on Emily to finish up whatever she and her party planner were discussing on the other side of the room.
“Yes?” I casually swept my gaze down his frame. He’d put on a pair of low-slung sweatpants and a sparkly crop top. Traces of whatever glitter he’d worn on stage shimmered on his cut stomach and slim hips.
Angel held out some bills. “You made a mistake.”
“Did I?” I asked, amused at his serious expression.
“Obviously.” He wiggled the bills at me. “No one tips this much.”
“I do.”
He shot me an exasperated look. “I’m sure the booze is making you think this is a good idea, but you’re gonna regret it when you sober up and I don’t want you coming after me to get your money back when you realize you were giving me C-notes like they grow on trees.”
“I’m not drunk, and I don’t take back tips. Ever.” I held up my hands in mock surrender.
Angel dropped his arm and looked at me suspiciously. “What’s your end game here, Mr. Fancy Shoes?”
“Fancy Shoes?” I choked out a surprised laugh.
“Yeah. I recognize those loafers. Tom Ford, right?” He shoved the bills into his pocket.
“Good eye.”
“But like I was saying,” he said, “what’s your end game? I talked to the other dancers and you weren’t slipping them hundos.”
“No end game. But…I do have a proposition for you.”
He glowered, crossing his arms. “No.”
“No? You haven’t even heard my offer.”
“Don’t have to hear it. I’m a dancer, not a hooker. If you think you can buy me, then you can fuck right off.”
“Who said anything about buying sex, or you?” I understood why he’d jump to that conclusion, but that wasn’t what this was about.
His glare softened as confusion crept into his features. “Huh?”
“Proposition was the wrong word. My apologies for how it sounded. I think it would be more accurate to say that I have a business proposal for you.”
Vlado held out one of my business cards.
Angel looked at my card, then at Vlado, then me. “Does your lackey talk, or just act like a human purse and hold all your shit for you?”
“I talk.” Vlado smiled in that soft way he usually reserved for kids or animals. “Just don’t have a lot to add to the conversation right now.”
“Other than being a human handbag?” Angel quipped, some of the suspicion leaving him. Some.
“Other than being a human handbag,” Vlado agreed.
Slowly, Angel took the card from him like he expected it to come alive and bite his hand. “A business proposal?”
“Yes,” I answered, dropping my arms. “An arrangement that will benefit both of us.”
Angel peered at the front of the card. “I think you’re barking up the wrong tree.” He flipped it over, gave the back a cursory look. “What could I possibly offer a businessman who wears shoes that cost more than I make in a weekend?”
“I don’t want to go into too many details here.” I glanced around to make sure we were still away from prying ears.
Angel’s eyes narrowed into another glare.
“But I promise it’s nothing untoward or unlawful.”
“You use a lot of big words to say simple things.” Angel crossed his arms again, the card ending up tucked between his nice bicep and his pec, which was also very nice, even from beneath the glittering half-shirt he was wearing. “So this proposal isn’t about sex?”
I swallowed. “Not at all.”
He relaxed, marginally, at my assurance.
“I’d like to meet with you at my office to discuss things in detail. Are you free on Monday?”
“Monday?” His voice came out in an adorable squeak.
“Yes. I’ll be out of town for most of the week. Monday is my only free day.”
Angel’s eyes tracked my hand as I rolled down the sleeve of my dress shirt. “Um, I have to work on Monday.”
“When do you get off?”
“As often as my wrist will allow.”
Vlado burst out laughing and Angel slapped his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide with horror.
I chuckled at his reaction more than his statement and buttoned my cuff. He was witty. That would be a big plus.
“Oops. My filter seems to be taking a coffee break.” He cleared his throat. “I’m off work at six on Monday.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be at my office until late evening.”
Angel chewed on his lip, his facade dropping. Jesus he was young. Maybe younger than I thought. Was he even old enough to be working here?
“How old are you?”
“How old are you ?” he shot back.
“You’re at least twenty-one, correct?” I pressed, fixing my other sleeve. Had I made a huge mistake? Even twenty-one was pushing it.
“I’m twenty-one.” When he paused, I knew to school my expression. “I’ll be twenty-two in October,” he added.
Eeshk. He was young.
“How about you think about my offer and contact me if you’re interested. The number on the back of my card is my personal cell. Text me tomorrow and we can work out a time to meet.”
“But you haven’t told me anything about the offer to consider. Just that it’s a business thing and it’s not about sex.”
“Like I said, I don’t want to go into too many details here, but this proposal comes with a job offer.”
“A job offer?”
“Yes. A three-month contract with a generous salary and the potential for a generous bonus.”
“Like how generous?” he asked, apprehension taking over his confusion.
“Let’s just say you’d be able to buy fifty pairs of my shoes and still have some left over.”
His jaw hinged and his big blue eyes doubled in size.
“Think about it and let me know if you’d like to meet Monday to discuss things more.”
Spinning on his heel, Angel sprinted away.
“I think you leaned a little too hard into mysterious and scared him away,” Vlado said dryly.
“Maybe. Hopefully he’s curious enough to text.”
“Hopefully.” Vlado’s tone told me he didn’t for one second think I’d ever hear from Angel again.