Chapter 4 #2
Maya slung a dish towel over her shoulder. She was in a black t-shirt, her wrists covered in leather bracelets and a single one in the shape of a steel chain. She seemed at ease, as though it was completely normal to see the woman she’d all but rescued a few nights before working in a strip joint.
Harper’s mouth dropped open again. “When you were near the parking lot… Oh my God. You were interviewing for this place.”
“You caught me. I’m not as heroic as first impressions might have suggested. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time.”
Remembering what wrong she was referring to, Harper’s brows furrowed.
“Wait. You said you had a boss. That’s how you knew…”
“I should have said previous boss. The bureaucratic problems they’re involved with are quite serious affairs.”
Her eyes drifted to Harper’s cheek. It looked like her arms tensed, but it may just have been a trick of the light.
“Kieran hasn’t bothered you again, has he?”
The question took a moment to register. Partly because Maya’s disposition had changed from amused to serious in a single breath, but also because Harper still wasn’t over that Maya was here. Had been here all night.
People always had reactions to learning what she did for a living, and they usually involved either judgment, disgust, or pity.
But there wasn’t any of that in Maya’s eyes.
They were just settled on Harper’s, despite how she was dressed.
In fact, since Harper had sat down, they hadn’t gone anywhere else.
“Haven’t seen him around. He’s been shockingly quiet for the past few days, in fact.”
Harper glanced over her shoulder. When she was sure no one was within earshot of this unfortunate topic, she leaned over the bar, making Maya do the same.
The sudden proximity made Harper forget why she’d leaned in at all. They were so close that she could count all the spots of gold shimmering in Maya’s dark irises. That she could pick up the fruity notes of whatever perfume Maya was wearing.
Maya grinned. “So? What are we conspiring about?”
Harper blinked, yanking herself back to the present. She was supposed to sell fantasies, not fall victim to them herself, and her mind had sprinted off in a highly impractical direction.
“You didn’t tell Trish anything, did you?” Only a couple of people could call Patricia by her full name, and Maya wasn’t one of them.
“About what happened with Kieran? No. Figured it wasn’t my story to tell.”
Harper sighed with relief. “Can you keep it to yourself? She has enough to do without adding worrying about me to the list.”
Maya’s eyes narrowed, but the reaction lasted less than a second before her expression relaxed.
“Sure. Your secret is safe with me. I know that the bar doubles as a confessional and to keep my mouth shut about what I lend an ear to.” She gestured at the wall of alcohol behind her. “You sitting down suggests you came over here for a particular reason. What’s your poison?”
That question was at least manageable. Though, the reaction to her answer might not be. It had produced stares before, especially in this scene.
“Tap water.”
Maya paused. Then nodded. “Got it. On the rocks?”
Though she tried, Harper couldn’t help but grin. “Yes. And with a twist.”
She watched as Maya went through the steps of making her drink. Swift and elegant steps, as it turned out, though the flair she used was wasted on this place. The regulars here considered it a luxury if their beers were served cold.
When she was done, Maya placed the water on the bar, the glass filled with ice cubes and with a curly strip of lemon peel fixed on the edge. She even topped it off with a straw and a tiny pink umbrella.
“There you are. A smart drink for a smart woman.”
Harper’s smile stiffened. The description didn’t fit, either for the drink or for her. The water was a necessity, and her GPA proved the inaccuracy of calling her clever.
“So. What are you in for?” she said, taking a sip through the straw. Maya cocked her head.
“What does that mean?”
“You only end up at the Lucky Penny if you don’t have anywhere else to go. It’s a halfway house for the desperate and the lonely. I’m curious which category you fall into.”
“Well, now you’re making me curious. Where do you see yourself on that scale?”
“You aren’t of the opinion that all strippers are desperate? You’re already better than the last bartender.”
“By your tone, I don’t think that’s a compliment.”
“It isn’t, really. Ryan was only good at one thing, and that was drinking on the job.” Harper gave a shrug. “But in my case, desperate actually fits pretty well. I needed work, and this is the only place that would take me.”
Maya glanced at the room, eyes catching on half-broken furniture and scuffed wall panels.
“My condolences.”
Harper scoffed, taking another sip of her drink. There was nothing to offer condolences for; not when Harper herself was to blame.
When they first got to St. Louis, the three of them had gotten into a great club across town. Clean, professional, and with bouncers who did more than look confused when conflicts broke out. And then she’d ruined it.
One night, the owner had pulled her into his office and made those comments she was more than familiar with. Demands masked as flirtation, and which she’d responded to first with snappy retorts and then with a knee between the legs when he thought grabbing her ass would be a winning argument.
She should never have been alone with him. But she’d assumed he was one of the decent ones, since the club he owned had been just that. A dumb mistake.
She’d gotten fired the following day. Had walked away with no work lined up and a shiny new reputation.
Not for putting up a fight, but one born from exaggerated rumors of her poaching other people’s regulars, bullying girls into quitting, and then the completely fabricated story of her stealing money from the manager.
Most places wouldn’t hire her after that, and the few who would—like the Penny—had the other girls treating her like a pariah before she even introduced herself. And worst of all, when Nell and Patricia heard what happened, they’d joined her sinking ship instead of saving themselves from drowning.
There were a lot of assholes in this industry. They had run into a bunch of them over the past year.
“You know my category.” Harper shot Maya a smile, relieved when it settled without much of a struggle. “Which one fits you? Desperate or lonely?”
Maya shrugged. “If those are my options, I have to choose lonely. I just got to town and needed something fast. This place liked that.”
“You’re a newcomer, then. What brought you to St. Louis?”
Maya gave Harper a long look up and down.
“The sights.”
Harper sputtered out a laugh. “Wow. Smooth.”
“I try. But, being honest, I didn’t know much about this place before coming here. I’m still figuring it out. Poorly, too. I ended up in a bad part of town the other night.”
Harper held back another laugh by biting her lip. A few sincere smiles she could get away with, but hearty laughter had no place in here. Even though Maya’s inviting tone made it easy to forget.
There were a lot of things that were easy to forget right then, including the fact that this woman was technically a stranger. But Harper just had an idea. And she had the feeling that it would make Maya smile again.
“I could show you around.”
Maya grinned. “You could?”
“I’ve explored this city enough to know which areas to avoid. And which ones are worth your time. I happen to have tomorrow off, if you’re in the mood for some sightseeing.”
Harper put her elbows on the bar, pushing her chest forward. A practiced move that should have produced at least a slight blush, but Maya didn’t react at all. And her golden-black eyes stayed on Harper’s.
“I won’t say no to that. It’s a date.”
“Not a date. Trish’s rule. Dancers can’t bring anything that resembles a romantic entanglement into work.
It’s a recipe for jealous disaster. Outside the club, we can do whatever we want, but when on the clock, you have to look single.
That’s hard to sell if you’re exchanging sweet glances with the bartender. ”
Now Maya’s eyes did drop, resting on Harper’s chest before returning to a more appropriate position.
“I’ll have to keep my glances less sweet, then.”
There was nothing but daring in that statement. In the words, the tone, or in that damn smile she was still wearing.
So, of course, Harper smiled right back.
“I’ll try to make it a challenge for you.”
She slipped off the stool, flicking back her hair, and with her drink in hand. A few people had just entered, and she needed to reel them in before they got caught by someone else.
But though her attention should be on the new arrivals, it drifted back to the bar. One of the other dancers had approached with a drink order, but just as Harper turned around, Maya looked her way. Her smiling expression as unfairly beautiful as before.
Harper bit her lip and returned her attention to the club entrance. Maybe the Penny wasn’t that bad.