Chapter 1
ONE
JADE WHITLOCK
“Let me guess.” Kitty, my coworker and longtime friend, grinned at me from across the dressing room.
Our eyes were locked on the reflection in the mirrors instead of sitting next to one another because Kitty had been late, so the other girls had taken up the free spots.
“You feel like someone’s watching you?” she teased, and I rolled my eyes.
“I said that one time,” I muttered, leaning forward over the vanity as I lost sight of her and focused on swiping mascara on my very long, very fake lashes. “I just… had a feeling.” I shrugged, pulling back to study my reflection.
My makeup was perfect today with the red lipstick that fit my slightly tanned complexion perfectly.
It’d taken me a while to find the perfect red, but I’d done it.
Now if only everything else in my life could fall into place as easily.
I touched up my hair slightly, tucking a strand behind my ear as I sat up and stared at myself.
I was still there.
I was still me no matter how much my sister tried to warn me that I’d lose myself when I started dancing fifteen months ago out of desperation and need. Opal was a smart cookie, but she’d been wrong about that. I was still me.
“Had a feeling someone was watching you?” Kitty repeated, turning around to get a better look at me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I knew where this conversation was going.
Kitty, compared to me, was an old timer as a dancer, despite the two of us being the same age.
At twenty-four, we had started from the same place.
Same trailer park and chaos that left us with almost nothing.
We might have gone in different directions after high school, yet we’d found ourselves on the same stage.
Kitty had been the one to encourage me a little over a year ago to try it out, and thankfully, it was what had helped me get on my feet after my ex had taken everything.
At least now that the Velvet Leopard had been taken over by a new owner, some guy named Jonas Porter, the stage was cleaner. Safer now that that the new management had been put in place.
Thankfully, our new boss kept his hands to himself.
“I did.” I shrugged.
It’d started a month ago.
This feeling when I was on stage that someone was watching me. I knew how stupid it sounded. My job was literally all about being watched and looked at as I did my thing on the pole or out on the floor or private rooms.
But this had been different.
Like my body prickled with keen awareness of someone’s attention.
And it hadn’t gone away. A week ago, I finally said the words out loud to Kitty, who had thought it was hilarious.
But then again, she didn’t know I felt this way anytime I stepped out of my condo.
Even at home, I sometimes caught a gentle whiff of a scent I couldn’t explain.
Too soft to really figure out, just a slight touch of something in the air that made me wonder if I was losing my mind and making things up or if maybe someone had been inside my place. The latter was too scary to fathom.
“Babe, you’re a dancer. On a stage,” she reminded me. “People watch you all the time.” I rolled my eyes because she was telling me the obvious.
“I know.” I smiled. “I’m overthinking.”
“I told you to stop watching those true crime shows.” This wasn’t the first time she’d said this to me. Kitty and I’d been friends for what felt like a lifetime. “That big brain of yours goes into overdrive.”
“Big brain.” I shook my head.
“Oh, please“—she rolled her dark eyes—“we both know you could run this place with your eyes shut.”
“You need a degree for that,” I muttered. Her face turned grim, and I watched as anger simmered in her eyes. “It’s okay.” I winked and hoped she believed it. “But you’re right. I should stop watching shows like that.” She exhaled and watched me for a moment.
We’d known one another for a long time and could read one another like an open book.
I could tell she wanted to bring up the reason I was dancing in the first place again, but she changed her mind, knowing that I wasn’t going to budge.
My ex had taken everything, including the loans I’d taken out to pay for my last two semesters, room, and board.
Leaving me with nothing.
When I’d broken down to Kitty, she’d given me a place to stay and helped me get a job. I knew the moment she changed her mind about bringing up the one we didn’t talk about.
Instead, Kitty patted my shoulder before she stood and shook off the satin robe she was wearing.
Kitty Ortega looked incredible in her deep red bikini. Curves and femininity on overdrive. The woman would give Sofia Vergara a run for her money.
“What do you think?” She glanced at herself in the mirror before skimming her hands over the tiny soft swell of her belly. “I look bloated.” Even as gorgeous as she was, she was still self-conscious sometimes, despite having danced for the last three years.
“Are you kidding me? You look gorgeous,” I complimented honestly.
“Let’s hope.” She sighed. “Tips were slow yesterday. I don’t really feel like walking the floor for private dances.”
“Hmm,” I muttered and tried not to let my lips twitch. Something she totally didn’t miss.
“Don’t start,” she said sternly, her finger pointing at me.
“I didn’t say anything.” I held my hands up innocently, trying like hell not to straight up laugh out loud.
“I’m serious, Jade.”
“I am, too.” I coughed. Our boss might keep his hands to himself and hardly say more than two words to us, but I had noticed the way he watched Kitty like she was the reason the moon and the stars existed in the sky.
And there was also the tiny fact that since right from the first day he stepped foot into the Velvet Leopard and took over, any time Kitty was on the floor, he was the one leading the way, holding her hand to the back room where the private dances were done.
There hadn’t been a single other man whom she’d had to give a private dance to.
At first, I’d worried Porter was up to something, maybe making her do things she didn’t want to. But when I asked her about it, she’d looked… annoyed. Telling me how he never made her dance for him.
Never touched her.
Not once.
Jonas Porter just had her sit there for hours on end…
All while he read quietly from an e-book app he had on his phone and she read over his shoulder. After the first two weeks of this, he’d brought her a Kindle. How he knew Kitty, our voluptuous vixen, was a serious bookworm, I had no idea. But either way, I’d found it more than sweet.
“He’s annoying,” she complained, and this time, I couldn’t hold back my giggle.
“You get paid to read,” I pointed out. Kitty opened her mouth, ready to argue, when someone called out her stage name.
“That’s not the point,” she muttered. “I’ll see you out there.” I nodded and glanced towards my locker.
“School girl or nurse?” I asked over my shoulder, hoping she would help me out.
“School girl.” She winked. “Add some pigtails, and I’ll bet you get some serious cashflow going.” She wasn’t wrong about that. I was sure studies could be made about the ROI of pigtails at a strip club.
I walked up to my locker and made quick work of changing into the skimpy schoolgirl costume before looking at myself in the mirror and putting my hair up in the pigtails she’d suggested.
“Hey, Jade.” Maryanne waved shyly. She was the newest new girl, Jonas’ first new hire. The girl looked like she wasn’t a day over eighteen without makeup even though she was my age.
“Hi, babe.” I smiled. “How are you?”
“Here.” She gave me a smile that didn’t necessarily reach her eyes. I didn’t know much about her story, but what I did know was that she hadn’t had an easy life.
“You’re here early,” I pointed out, since she was usually at the club much later. She nodded. “I asked Mr. Porter if I could get in an extra shift today.”
“Money tight?” I asked quietly after making sure it was only the two of us in the dressing room.
“Isn’t it always?” she answered with a tight smile. My stomach tightened. How many times had I been there while I was in school?
“I can—“ I started to offer, but she cut me off, her voice a little louder than the usual quiet rasp.
“I couldn’t.” She shook her head, and I frowned.
“You can,” I pressed. “Consider it a loan, if you want.” There was something about Maryanne that made me want to help her out.
Kitty would call me a bleeding heart, and my sister would tell me I was crazy.
But just like I knew what it was like to be in Maryanne’s shoes, Opal and Kitty had their own reasons why they looked out for themselves.
“You’re really sweet, Jade, but I couldn’t.” She smiled, though her bottom lip wobbled.
Everything inside of me wanted to figure out a way to convince her, but I knew if she was anything like me, she wasn’t going to budge.
Kitty had offered to help when my life had gone to hell, and I hadn’t let her do more than let me crash on her couch for a month.
And even then, I’d insisted on paying rent.
“Okay,” I gave in calmly. “But if you change your mind or ever need to talk, I’m here. Always. Us girls have to look after one another.”
“You’re not this nice to Gretchen and Stef,” she noted, which put a genuine smile on my face. Gretch and Stef were bitchy mean girls who never grew up past the maturity of high schoolers.
“That’s because they don’t actually need any kind of help. And they’re bitchy.” I shrugged. “Just… it’s okay to lean on people when you need help.” I knew that if Kitty heard me, she would say, “Kettle, meet pot.”
“Thanks,” she whispered. “I have to go get ready.” I nodded.
“If you need a different costume, there’s a nurse one in my locker,” I offered. We were about the same size, though her breasts were bigger than mine. The nurse outfit would probably look a hell of a lot better on her than me.
“Thanks.”
“See you out there.” I winked and waved before she disappeared into the bathroom area of the dressing room.
I checked out my reflection one more time before stepping out onto the floor, and immediately, that feeling I had been feeling for the last month washed over me.
My body felt hyperaware of someone watching my every step.
It’s your overactive imagination, I told myself and hoped I’d believe it. I glanced around trying to see if maybe I’d catch someone, but the men who looked at me smiled like they wanted me to approach them or like they were nervous as hell.
No one looked out of place.
I neared the bar to grab a bottle of water just as our DJ thanked Sparkles for her dance and introduced Kitty.
I ordered my water and watched half of Kitty’s set as she twirled and spun about on the pole before moving down the stage and giving men who were tossing bills in her direction a good view.
For it being a Wednesday night, the Velvet Leopard was a lot busier than usual.
“Convention,” Romy, our gorgeous brunette bartender, shared as if she had somehow read my mind. “Doctors of some kind, I think.”
“Fun,” I mumbled, making her snort.
Doctors and businessmen could sometimes be worse than frat boys on some kind of road trip or holiday break. Kitty and Ginger liked to say it was a power and ego trip. I shook my head and shrugged,
“Hopefully, they feel like spending money.”
“So far, looks like it.” Romy pointed at the stage. Sure enough, green littered the stage below Kitty’s feet.
“At least there is that.”
“You up next, babe?” I nodded, feeling kind of rude as my eyes skimmed the floor. I couldn’t shake that feeling. “Dancing to something new?” she asked, making conversation.
“Yeah. Some song by The Neighbourhood called Daddy Issues.” I grinned, and she giggled.
“Love it!” She chuckled, but her laughter died as she looked off towards the booths. “Hey, have you noticed—“ she started to say, but a gentleman walked right up to me, and I slipped into work mode.
“Hey, handsome, how are you?” I asked, purely on instinct. Muscle memory was crazy. Something that just a year ago would have made me skin crawl or make me stutter now was easy.
“I’m good, beautiful.”
“Nice.” I winked and was about to take a step forward to get back to the stage, when his hand reached out and the pads of his fingers gently skimmed my wrist.
“Any chance an old man like me could buy a pretty girl like you a drink, darlin’?” I could feel Romy staring at us, probably weighing whether she needed to intercede or not.
“Well, aren’t you sweet.” I smiled and wondered if the man was buying it.
Not that he was bad to look at. He was older, probably late forties, early fifties, with light blue eyes and tanned skin that said he worked outdoors and came from a generation that didn’t live and breathe the importance of sun protection.
The lines at the edges of his eyes hinted he liked to smile or laugh a lot.
He was tall, but then again, since I stood at five feet, almost everyone was taller than me.
He was lean and fit, obviously took care of himself.
“I can be a lot of things.” He grinned wolfishly, wantonly looking me up and down.
“I’m good for now,”—I lifted my water bottle—“but maybe something later? After my dance.” I pointed at the stage.
“Well, honey, I’ll be watching,” he said, and somehow, I didn’t flinch away from him. He wasn’t bad looking but not my type.
Not that I had one.
I waved goodbye to Romy, who looked at me like I’d somehow impressed her, which considering how far I had come, she probably would be. I’d hated interacting with patrons out on the floor when I’d first started as a waitress.
But I blew the guy a kiss and made sure my hips had a little extra sway with every step I took.
I’d quickly learned to make sure to leave them wanting a little more.
It paid off on the stage and in the private rooms when they wanted lap dances.
ROI—return on investment. I almost wanted to roll my eyes at myself.
This wasn’t how I’d thought I would use my almost degree, but hey, nothing you learned was ever a waste!