Chapter 2
Colson (a.k.a. Cashmere)
“When are you gonna put that poor man out of his misery?” Darcy grins at me, waggling his eyebrows. “He’s so stuck on you.”
“He can get in line with the rest of them.” I lean on the bar, yelling to Toni, the bartender, for another drink. I wouldn’t normally buy my own, but I’m in no mood to work the crowd tonight. Thankfully, Specter left right after I walked away. He does that. When my attention is gone, so is he.
“He’s different,” Darcy gushes. “First of all, he’s young. And second, what a face. You’re stronger than me.”
“It’s not about strength. It’s self-preservation.” Carding my fingers through my hair while I wait, I glance at the full tables around the club, at the hungry, groping men who can’t get enough of this place.
But on the other side of these walls is beauty.
So much of it that it overwhelms me at times.
There’s classical music and birds chirping even in the midst of urban decay.
There’s theater, ballet, and stunning museums and libraries filled with tangible proof of humanity’s perseverance and ability to create art, in spite of everything.
Inside these walls, I’m the art, the beauty, the tangible desire, but out there, I’m a part of the whole universe.
“I’d climb all over that if he looked at me the way he looks at you,” Darcy says.
“You’re more than welcome to.”
“Like I said, if he looked at anyone the way he looks at you. That man is obsessed.”
The word pricks unpleasantly at my psyche.
Yes, Specter is a stunning man, and yes, I’m more than aware of his intense attention on me, and that’s what makes me uneasy.
I’ve had my share of overzealous patrons in the past, and I’ve learned that the best way to deal with it is to keep my distance.
I’ll let him buy me drinks and smell my perfume, but that’s it.
Do I need to get laid? Like a bee needs pollen, but my choices lately have left me uninspired.
If I had met Specter in any other setting, I would have gladly taken up space in his bed for a night or two, but not now.
He knows how to find me, and that won’t work.
Toni slides another house cocktail in front of me, but waves me away when I try to pay. “It’s on me tonight, Cas. I haven’t bought you one in weeks.”
“Thanks, Toni.” I wink at the pretty, androgynous beauty. Toni’s genderless style is effervescent, like sunshine breaking through on a cloudy day. We never know what color hair she’ll have or if she’ll be channeling old Hollywood or nineties grunge, but whatever she does, she nails it.
I turn my attention back to the club, knowing the boss expects me to talk to at least a few customers, but all of them look so blah tonight. Only Specter was worth a visit, and he’s gone.
While I stir my drink with a slender straw, I see a man sitting alone in a far corner, his eyes trained on me until he notices I’m looking back.
He pulls his gaze away quickly, focusing on his glass of beer.
I’ve seen him before, and there’s something off about him—a vibe that crawls under my skin, setting off alarm bells to stay far away from that one.
“He asked me your name.”
I turn to my left to see Rudy, my sort-of friend. I keep coworkers at a distance too, but we talk more than most of us, and I like him.
“What do you mean?”
“Your real name,” Rudy says, his face unusually serious. “I told him Cashmere is the only name he needs to know.”
“Did he buy you a drink?”
Rudy shakes his head. “I went over there to cheer him up, you know, ’cause he’s alone, but he didn’t want to talk about anything but you. I already told Gus and Eric at the door. They’ll keep an eye on him.”
“Thanks.” I exhale slowly. “I’m so tired of creeps. Why can’t they just come in, enjoy the show, and leave?”
“Who knows.” Rudy shrugs his slender shoulders.
I’ve always admired his features. He’s so pretty, with his long lashes and hazel eyes, his tan skin, and perfect features.
From a distance, he looks like a doll, but when you get close you can see that his nose has been broken at least once, his jaw could cut glass, and his prominent Adam’s apple bobbles when he laughs, which he does often.
He’ll also cut a bitch who fucks with him. I love that about him.
“You’ll be safe,” he says, rubbing my arm.
“I’m not worried. It’s not like I don’t deal with this constantly.”
“They can’t handle your beauty.” Rudy smiles. “When’s your next night off?”
“The usual. Sunday and Monday. Why?”
“Some of us were planning to go check out that new club over on the west side. Supposed to be like ours, but also actual stripping too.”
“Oh yeah, I’ve heard talk about it. Maybe. Text me.”
“I will.” He leans closer. “Look. He’s leaving.”
We watch as the lone man stands and drops some bills on the table.
He turns towards us, his gaze zeroing in on me, and as an uneasy shiver moves down my spine, I straighten my shoulders.
I won’t show any weakness. He nods at me in acknowledgment before thankfully walking straight towards the exit.
Once he’s gone, I relax, dropping my shoulders.
“At least I don’t have to deal with that now.”
“But make sure you get walked to your car. Just in case.”
“Of course.”
“Must be hard being the prettiest man alive,” Rudy says dramatically.
“Is it? You tell me.”
Rudy laughs, flashing stunning white teeth. They aren’t perfectly straight, which just adds to his appeal in my opinion. “Oh please. I’m smart enough to know I’m a solid number two in this joint. The spotlight is yours and that’s just fine with me.”
His comment makes me slightly uncomfortable.
I know my looks have gotten me far in life, but they haven’t even got me close to what I actually want.
My original goals are nothing but shredded memories now, tossed into a dusty corner of my mind where they can’t taunt me.
Good looks are nice, but they aren’t everything.
I spot a table with three college-age-looking dudes at it. Those types are always fun. “I’m gonna mingle.”
“Bye, diva,” Rudy says, waving at me as I saunter off to the table.
“Hey, boys.” All three men look up. “Got room for me?”
One of them, a beefy boy with blond spiky hair nods, scooting over to show me an empty chair. “You can sit here.”
“Thank you.” I sit elegantly, crossing one leg over the other. “Enjoy the show?”
“Hell yeah,” another one says. He’s tall and lean, a little nerdy looking. “You’re incredible.”
I simply smile.
“Can we get you a drink?” Beefy boy asks while the other two men nod eagerly.
“I’m actually all set on drinks. I just came to say hi.”
The quiet one, a man with big brown eyes, a scraggly beard, and very nice lips, leans a little closer, clearly working up the nerve to speak to me. “You’re so pretty. Can I call you pretty? Is that okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine, and thank you.”
I chat with the boys for a few minutes, learning that they’re students from the nearby university who heard about us from the people we send out to pass around flyers downtown.
To my knowledge, we’re the only queer burlesque club in the metro area, which makes the opening of this new one across town interesting. I don’t think it’s all queer though.
The conversation bores me, but I always look for some common ground. That’s what makes me interested in people. No matter what, everyone has something. We’re all connected, it just takes time to find the link.
Lewis, the beefy boy, finally says something I can connect with. “So Professor Willis says I should visit the Louvre because I have an eye for art.” He chuckles. “Me? A dopey kid from a farm in Iowa?” He shrugs. “Guess I like it.”
“What’s your favorite work?”
Lewis turns to me, searching my eyes as he contemplates my question. “My favorite style is probably neoclassicism. I really like sculpture. Like—” He glances at his friends, blushing slightly. “—um, I like Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss. Do you know it?”
“I do, actually. What do you like about it?”
“Everything,” he gushes. “The expression on Cupid’s face, the intimacy of the pose, the draping of the fabric. It’s so detailed, but still hearkens back to ancient Greece and Rome in its form.”
“Aaand we’ve lost him,” one of his friends, Dan I think, says, and the other one laughs. Michael?
Lewis shrugs, clearly embarrassed about his interests in front of his friends. I place my hand over his and his jaw drops as he focuses on my face.
“Never let go of the beauty. It’s all we have. It keeps us sane. Go to Paris and see it all. Eat it up, and put those memories in your heart to get you through the hard days.”
Lewis nods, his lips parted in awe. It’s rare that I connect with a customer this deeply, and he’s cute enough, but he’s still a customer. If I won’t fuck Specter, I definitely won’t fuck sweet Lewis.
I look at his friends. “I hope you all appreciate each other. Finding friends can be hard in this world.”
Michael squeezes the back of Lewis’s neck. “We do. We aren’t teasing him. We love his enthusiasm. They let me nerd-out on math, and Lewis has his art. Dan’s all about architecture.”
“Good.” I pat the table then stand up to leave. “Have fun, boys.”
Lewis grabs my wrist before I can walk away. I look down at the contact and gently tug my arm away.
“Sorry,” he says. “You’re leaving?”
“We’re closing soon.”
Lewis glances at his friends, then proceeds to ruin the entire interaction, just like they always do. “Can I call you? We could talk about art or whatever you like.”
I scrunch my nose. “Sorry. I don’t mix business and pleasure.” I cup his chin to soften my rejection. “For what it’s worth, I enjoyed the conversation and I really hope you make it to Paris someday.”
I walk away before he can say anything else and head to the dressing room while the club clears out. By the time I’ve changed into street clothes and wiped the makeup off my face, the place should be empty.
I sit at my vanity, gazing at my reflection. I’m fortunate, I know. I got my mother’s Brazilian complexion and features, but my dad gave me his eyes—kind of green, kind of blue, and oddly brown at times. He used to call them my marble eyes.
A pang of grief zaps my chest, but I’m well practiced at tucking it away quickly.
They’d hate what I’m doing to pay the bills, the bills I shouldn’t have to pay, but that’s neither here nor there.
I’ve learned that drowning in resentment and the pain of things I can’t change doesn’t do a thing to make life easier, so I shove it down and cover it up with as many happy things as I can find. It mostly works.
Rudy bounces over to me dressed in baggy jeans and an oversized sweatshirt that swallows his petite frame. “Ready? I’ll walk out with you.”
“I am.” I grab my bag and slide my feet into my well-worn sneakers. It’ll be a sad day when I finally have to toss these since I can’t find them anymore. After putting my bag over my shoulder, I pull my hair into a messy bun and walk out with Rudy.
Gus is waiting dutifully by the back door for us, and his presence is always comforting.
Not that I can’t protect myself, but who wants to?
We step outside into the cool night air and I inhale deeply, clearing the dark, smoky aroma of the club and replacing it with the crisp air of impending autumn.
We’ve only made it about halfway across the lot when Rudy bumps my arm, nodding in the direction of a black car parked close to ours. Gus is already on full alert, putting his massive body between us and the man opening his driver side door.
Unsurprisingly, it’s the man from earlier who couldn’t stop staring at me. Rudy and I freeze. We know the drill by now.
“What the fuck do you want?” Gus demands. “Club’s closed.”
“I just want to talk to him,” the man says.
I can’t really see him from behind Gus, but I don’t want to. His voice is creepy.
“Talking is for club hours. You need to go.”
“Can I give him my phone number? Just in case.”
“You’ve got ten seconds to get in your car and drive off before I call the cops.” Gus folds his thick arms over his chest. “And if I have to do that, you’ll be filing assault charges on me when they get here.”
I peek around Gus to see the man raising his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t gonna do anything. Swear.”
“Go.”
The man scrambles to get inside his car, and we wait until he clears the parking lot and turns down the street. This way he doesn’t know which car is mine or have the opportunity to follow me. For extra security, I’ll take the long way home so I can be sure I’m alone.
“Fuckers,” Gus growls while he waits for me and Rudy to get into our cars. “Be safe out there.”
“Always am. Thanks, Gus.”
After waving to Rudy, I pull out of the parking lot onto the street, hyper vigilant and on the lookout for any lurking creeps.
It’s pretty late, so it’s not hard to tell if any cars get too close for too long.
Once I’m satisfied that I’m not being followed, I blow out a breath and relax a little, hitting play on the car stereo to start my streaming playlist. I’m feeling chill now, so I skip to a song that matches my mood.
I only live about ten minutes from the club, which is both good and bad.
On one hand, it wouldn’t be hard for a stalker to find me, but on the other, it sure makes it easy to get to work in the winter.
I park in my designated spot, glancing around the empty parking lot before I leave my car.
I have several items of protection with me at all times, but who wants to go through that?
Again.
Once I’m safely inside my apartment, I kick off my sneakers and shuffle to my bedroom to undress and take a shower. The hot water always feels amazing on my muscles after a night of dancing.
Tomorrow I have a new routine I’m showcasing.
As I wash, thoughts of Specter fill my head.
I have to admit that I love the way he watches me.
It’s different from the others, with their greedy, sleazy gazes.
I have to block out those looks, but not Specter’s.
He looks at me like I’m made of magic and light.
Like he actually sees me as a person and not just a pretty ass.
He looks at me like I could matter to him.
And that’s exactly why I have to keep my distance.