Chapter Thirty-Five
Mallory wakes up to knocking on the door to the hotel room.
Her restless night was filled with strange dreams about Alec, and images from them wash over her now, so vivid she has to process them before she attends to the door.
She was dancing in one, burlesque, but there was a stripper pole.
And she took all her clothes off, and Alec was in the audience.
She jumped down from the stage with the tip jar, and when she approached him he reached for her and began fingering her in the middle of the crowd.
She tried telling him to stop, but the pleasure was too intense and he brought her to a shattering orgasm.
That’s when the door knocking woke her.
She checks the time and it’s almost noon. She’d forgotten to set her alarm and now she has to really hustle or she’ll miss her flight.
She pulls on a T-shirt and shorts and stumbles to the door, stepping over the corset and ostrich feather skirt she’d shed when she returned last night. If it weren’t for the evidence at her feet, the party would feel like a dream.
“Who is it?” she asks.
“Front desk. Delivery for Mallory Dale.”
She opens the door and can barely see the porter behind a towering bouquet of red calla lilies arranged in a glass vase. She takes it into her arms, thanking the guy and promising to leave a tip at the front desk later because there’s no hope of her locating her wallet at the moment.
A black envelope dangles from a thin gold cord around one of the stalks. She sets the arrangement on the nearest table and opens it.
Dear Moxie:
Burlesque stars are born, not made. I heard you were amazing last night.
Thanks for stepping in. This is just the beginning.
Xoxo Bette
Mallory smiles. The flowers are gorgeous, and it’s a lovely gesture. But last night wasn’t the beginning. It was the end, because as much as she loved performing, she loves Alec more. Bette won’t understand, but that’s okay. It’s all very clear to Mallory now, and that’s what matters the most.
She feels wistful, like it’s the end of school or summer camp and she has to say goodbye to all the friends she’s made.
No matter where life takes her, she’ll always remember her adventures with Bette.
It’s as if the universe sent her a spirit guide through this difficult time.
And she learned two important things about herself: She doesn’t want to be a lawyer.
And she does want Alec—now more than ever.
It’s time to go home. In the bathroom, she runs the shower and looks at her reflection in the mirror.
The red hair still surprises her, and she hopes Alec doesn’t mind it.
He once said that he doesn’t understand why women spend so much time and money coloring their hair, that it’s a myth guys prefer blondes over brunettes or vice versa.
“Attraction is so much more complex than that.” Well, she’s about to put that to the test.
The shower pressure is intense, like liquid needles.
She saw a film once where a woman directed the shower head between her legs and writhed in ecstasy.
Mallory’s tempted to try it—she’s aching for Alec so badly, she doesn’t know how she’s going to make it through the six-hour flight.
But there’s no time to mess around right now.
Just as she’s finished rinsing off, her phone pings with a text. The bathroom is filled with steam and it takes her a moment to wrap herself in a plush white towel and locate it. Water drips from her hair down her cheek to her neck as she examines the phone screen.
The message isn’t a text, it’s an image: a photo of Mallory during her performance last night.
Her gaze is directed at the audience, her facial features accentuated with stage makeup that makes her look like a 1980s pop star.
Her bare breasts are covered only with pasties, her outstretched arms holding the feather fans like an exotic bird about to take flight.
The image is astonishing; she can hardly believe this powerful, sexy woman is herself. But her pride is short-lived.
The photo was sent from Alec’s phone.
There’s no comment, no text, but she gets the message loud and clear. She lied to him. She betrayed him—again.
She has no doubt how he got the photo: Billy Barton. That absolute prick!
Hands shaking, she calls Alec as fast as she can.
It goes straight to voicemail.