Chapter 1 Kitty Ortega
ONE
KITTY ORTEGA
I walked off stage as gracefully as I could manage. I hadn’t hit the gym this morning, and my body was feeling it.
I walked over to the space I claimed as mine when I got to the dressing area earlier and tossed on a small, baby-blue cropped tee I’d left there before I started working on taking the bills out of the itty-bitty bikini bottoms. Movement in the mirror caught my attention, and I glanced up just as Maryanne stepped into the dressing room.
“Need help?” she asked timidly.
The girl always looked terrified. Or stressed out.
Or both. There was definitely something going on with her; not that I would be the one to find out.
I wasn’t exactly friendly. According to Jade, my long-time friend and co-worker, she was our age but looked a hell of a lot younger and too damn innocent to be twenty-four and working at the Velvet Leopard.
Even with all the upgrades and safer vibes Jonas Porter had made these last couple of months, she seemed untouched. Too pure and innocent to be a stripper.
Part of me wanted to roll my eyes at her and shake her before telling her to grow up.
That the sweet, scared, doe-eyed look would only get her so far in life.
Especially this life, where the higher the heel and skimpier your costume, the better.
My other side, though, a softer one hardly anyone ever saw, wanted to sit her down and tell her to find some other place to work because this industry would chew her up and spit her out before spring ended.
“Yeah,” I chose to say. Maryanne set her bag down on the vanity and moved closer. She picked up the bills that littered the ground, and together, we shoved the money into the bag I carried. “Thanks,” I mumbled before eyeing her.
“No problem.” She smiled tightly. I could tell she didn’t know what to do with me being somewhat nice.
“What are you dancing to tonight?” I asked, trying to make conversation. I blamed Jade and her sweetness working with me for almost two years now had somehow rubbed off on me. Though, the last month, she’d been working less and less.
Not that I blamed her.
I would come in a hell of a lot less if I had a strong, obsessed, handsome man doting on me, looking at me like I was the sole reason stars existed in the sky like she did.
Lucas Porter was positively and possessively in love with her.
Which worked out because Jade was head over heels for the guy, too, staring at him as if he hung the moon for her.
The whole thing was disgustingly sweet.
But Jade’s story is the exception, not the rule, a cynical voice reminded me. Something it constantly had to do since Jonas Porter had taken over the Velvet Leopard.
“I was thinking about “Milkshake,”” Maryanne shared. I opened and shut my mouth, stopping myself from saying something snarky or bitchy.
“Good choice,” I chose to say instead. “If you need a costume for when you hit the floor,”—I pointed towards my locker—“I mean, if you want to.”
“Oh.” Her bright blue eyes widened. “Thanks,” she said softly, and I nodded.
I studied her for a moment as she walked to the vanity and sat down. Her makeup was already done up in an almost natural way, which definitely worked for her. Her glossy black hair shone brightly under the slightly fluorescent lighting of the dressing room. She was pretty.
“You hitting the floor?” she asked without judgment. It was no secret that I hadn’t actually hit the floor since the doors opened under our new owner.
“Eventually.” I sat down at my spot and looked at myself in the mirror. At twenty-four, I felt a lot older than my age. Life was… a lot at times.
I glanced at Maryanne through the mirror.
The way those bright blue eyes slowly seemed to go slightly dull, as if she was mentally preparing herself for what she was about to do, tugged at that soft side inside me, but before I could say anything, Stef and Gretchen walked in.
“Look what we have here! The boss’ pet and the little sweet virgin.” Gretchen’s voice dripped with inauthenticity.
“Maryanne, what have we told you? Be careful of Kitty. She might go telling on you to the new boss. How is our hot boss? You finished with him yet, Kitty?” Stef asked.
My eyes caught Maryanne’s in the mirror before the two of us simultaneously ignored them and their little catty taunts.
But I could tell with the way Gretch was looking at me that she was in a mood.
She sashayed her way over to where I was fixing my makeup and sat her skinny ass on the vanity next to me. Not on the chair but the actual table.
“Come on, Kitty cat, tell us the truth. You’re doing something extra so he keeps you back there all night?”
“Don’t you get tired of being a bitch, Gretch?” I asked, unfazed by her bitchiness.
“Takes one to know one,” she responded like she thought she was being original when she wasn’t. I simply rolled my eyes and locked our gazes.
“Never said anything differently.” The smirk on her face slowly faded. “But it does get tiring, doesn’t it? I mean… you’re what now? Twenty-six? Twenty-seven? We’ve been doing this catty bitch shit for how long now? Since I started here? That was five, six years ago?”
“Whatever,” she huffed, hopping off the vanity.
“Maybe when Jonas gets tired of you, he’ll move on to Maryanne.
You know… someone… nicer. It will be interesting to see you go back on the floor where you belong with us, trying to get these assholes to open their wallets.
” And with that, she thought she got in the last word.
She and Stef walked back out, probably to try to get a couple more private dances before they clocked out. I was almost sure they missed the easy money that came from doing a couple extras they were rumored for before management had changed hands at the club.
“You know I wouldn’t—“ Maryanne started to say the moment we were alone again.
“He’s not mine, honey.” I smiled tightly. “Jonas Porter is more than free to pay for whoever he wants in a private room.” My jaw clenched as acid filled my mouth.
I’d never been a jealous or possessive woman when I’d dated in the past. Not that I’d dated all that much.
There had been two kinds of men in my past. Nine out of ten times, they felt too intimidated by what I did to get out of their own head before letting whatever we had implode or straight up ghost me.
Then there were the kind who got off on it.
Like it was some kind of achievement for themselves, something for them to brag about.
They didn’t take you seriously, and most of the time, they weren’t nice and nothing more than a distraction while you wasted your time.
It had been over seven months since I had gone on a date and even longer since I’d had someone to burn off some stress with.
Maybe that is my problem? I need to get laid.
“You know he only wants you,” she said softly, like she couldn’t help herself.
“That’s not—“
“If he’s working when you’re not here, he stays in in his office, going through the books and whatever else he does. He doesn’t step foot out on the floor, much less watch the stage like he does when you dance,” she boldly interrupted. I blinked.
I wasn’t stupid. I’d known it had taken guts on her part to speak up and share that with me. Our eyes locked for a long minute while I studied her closely. Maybe the sweet girl next door wasn’t as much of a scaredy cat as I’d assumed. She was as Jonas’ first hire.
“You noticed that?” I ignored the way my stomach woke up with flutters. Maryanne simply shrugged before breaking eye contact to mess with her hair as she kept getting ready.
“It gets boring sometimes. Especially during the days.”
“Why are you–– Never mind.” I shook my head.
Don’t get involved. Don’t ask questions.
And do not, for the love of god, make any new friends.
Not at the strip club, of all goddamn places.
I’d learned my lesson a million times before.
But what about your friendship with Jade or Opal?
They wouldn’t stab you in the back like the others had in the past. Again, Jade must have rubbed off on me.
“You know the real money is at night, right?”
“I know.” She didn’t bother to look at me or elaborate on her situation. It was kind of annoying. Her curling iron paused. “But sometimes I can’t work the night shift. And the morning shift is still better than working at a gas station.”
“I get that,” I muttered, ignoring the way I wanted so badly to ask why. If I opened that can of worms, I knew I’d somehow find myself getting way too involved. Nope. That was not for me.
Jade and Opal were enough friends for me. I didn’t need any more. I stood and headed to my locker, taking out a cute little blue outfit I had hand-sewn while thinking about Jonas. Not that I would ever admit that out loud to him, or anyone for that matter.
Nope. I didn’t get involved
“Do you really just read in the Kitty Room?”
“That’s not its name.” I rolled my eyes as I got dressed. Modesty wasn’t really a thing for me after years of getting paid to take my clothes off.
“You know that no one else ever steps foot in there, right?” My fingers stalled in my hair.
“It’s a space he made only for you,” Maryanne continued.
I tried to bat away the warm fuzzies that came to life and settled low in my belly at the fact.
Again, it wasn’t the first time someone had mentioned that to me.
I broke eye contact and stared at myself in the mirror.
My dark brown eyes stared back at me as I tried to calm down the quickening in my chest. No one else steps foot in there.
A space he made for you. Jade had just been on me about this at the gym two mornings before, when she told me that she was asked to help with the books and would be dancing a little less on stage now.
Which, good for her.
I was proud of her.
She was brilliant and would have made an incredible accountant if it hadn’t been for her asshole ex messing up her plans.
She was too good to be on a stage dancing for dollars.
Jade was brilliant and had always been meant for more.
You could do more, a soft voice encouraged inside my head.
I chewed on my bottom lip. My eyes caught on the shoes I’d put on the vanity, shoes I’d designed and made myself.
I shook away the thought. I wasn’t like Jade. I wasn’t the exception.
Still… my thoughts drifted to the man who had slowly started making me believe that maybe I was different.
Special. My mind spiraled for a moment, thinking about our time together, those blissfully quiet calm hours I got to spend around Jonas.
My lips twitched upward like they always did when I not only thought about him but that first time I’d walked into what everyone liked to call the Kitty Room.
I couldn’t lie. Not to myself.
When I’d stepped into the private room, my breath hitched at the man on the couch.
Jonas Porter was a large man. Muscled and broad chested, not to mention he was over six feet tall.
The man looked like he was made more for a football field as a defensive lineman than a boardroom.
Which, according to Google, he’d mastered both.
He was handsome as sin, smart as a whip, and way too good for me. I was a dancer who liked to design pretty things. He’d never see me as anything more.
“Whatever,” I muttered under my breath.
At the end of the day, it didn’t matter if he’d made the place for me or if I was just the first of his weird little obsessions. I was someone he liked to keep company with, and that was it.
It wasn’t like he even touched me. Much less looked at me when we were in the ‘Kitty Room’ together anyhow.
Jade’s little love story with finding Lucas the way she did was one for the books, something that gave girls like Maryanne hope for something more.
Girls and women less cynical and jaded than I was, that was for sure.
Stories like that were never a reality for girls like me.
I was the cautionary tale, and that was it.
“So… does he really have you read to him?” Maryanne asked after looking around to make sure no one else was in the room. As if it was some kind of classified secret.
“To him?” I repeated, unable to hold back the eye roll that followed. “No, babe. I don’t read to him. He reads. On his own.” I made a point to add, “He hardly says two words to me.”
“Really? You just…”
“Sit and read.” I shrugged. I could only imagine the shit she must have heard from the other girls, or hell, Stef and Gretch. “And get paid for it,” I added. Not to gloat but to remind myself that was what the whole weird Twilight Zone I’d somehow found calling my life was.
A business transaction.
It wasn’t me hanging out and reading with a guy who intrigued me with all his quiet brooding because deep inside, he maybe, possibly might be interested. Nope. This was work. Only work. It doesn’t feel like work, that softer voice quipped up bravely.
“Wow,” she sighed, and I could almost make out the little cartoon hearts and stars start to float about above her head, making the whole thing out to be something it was not.
In her head, she saw some kind of spudding love story.
In mine, I was watching an hourglass run out of sand.
When it did, it would mean Jonas would move on to someone new, and I would be right back walking the floor, taking all kinds of strangers into the back for private dances, and my reading time would be cut off.
Sure, that’s why your heart feels sad, that little voice mumbled. I took a deep breath.
“You going to be okay?” I asked her over my shoulder, and she nodded. “Good. I gotta go get to work.” I winked, but it did nothing to take the hope away from Maryanne’s eyes.
“Have fun,” she said kindly. My steps faltered. Have fun. It was such a sweet and simple sentiment. And as much as I hated it, I knew I would be having fun sitting with a man who hardly ever spoke to me.
And damn it, part of me hated that because I knew I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop and for life to go back to what it had been before Jonas Porter stepped foot into the Velvet Leopard.