“We’re headed up to the Whiskey Room,” Colt said to me. “We should be there for a while.”
I nodded, understanding what he was telling me without saying it. It was club business and so I was not going to be part of it.
“Barrett and Flynn have given us suites,” Colt said. “We won’t be driving back to Waco when we’re finished.”
Which was Colt speak for, drink and be merry, and I planned on doing just that.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could feel Knight’s penetrating stare. I didn’t care for it, so I made my goodbye with Colt brief. I kissed his lips and then slipped from his side, determined to find Barrett.
She was still conversing with Zip but when she saw me, she linked her arm through mine and said, “Gentlemen, enjoy your evening. We will definitely enjoy ours!”
Barrett waved to her husband and threw him a sassy smile, which he pretended not to enjoy, but even I could see the twinkle in his eye. We went into the burlesque club and I took a moment to stop and marvel at the decor. Old school gas lanterns graced the walls and the stage was lit with vaudevillian type bulbs. The female servers were dressed like cigar girls. An eight-piece brass band was in the orchestra pit and the velvet brocade curtains of the stage were currently shut.
“Wow,” I said.
Barrett tossed out a laugh. “I know, right?”
“It’s unbelievable. I feel like I’ve stepped back in time.”
“Precisely the point. Oh look, there’s Joni.” Barrett nodded with her chin in the direction of one of the booths where Joni sat with a drink.
Barrett and I came over and Joni was out of her seat before we even reached her. She hugged Barrett. “I didn’t know you’d be here! I thought you’d be with the men.”
“I think it’s nice for husbands to be able to let loose from time to time without their wives looking over their shoulders. Besides, I’d much rather catch up with you—and get to know Mia.”
We sat down and immediately a server came by to take our drink orders.
“I’ll have another gimlet, please,” Joni said.
The server nodded and then looked to Barrett who replied, “The usual.”
“I’ll have whatever she’s having,” I said, looking at Barrett.
“Very good. I’ll be back in a moment with your drinks,” the server said and then left.
Barrett leaned back against the leather booth and crossed her legs. “You don’t even know what my usual is. You may hate it.”
“Doubt it. You clearly have good taste.”
“Yes, she does,” Joni teased. “Have you seen her husband?”
Laughing in delight, Barrett joked, “He’s okay.”
“How’d you meet Flynn?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m not sure I even know the history between you two.” Joni’s gaze was curious.
“Long story,” Barrett evaded. “Too long, but in a roundabout way, I guess you could say I worked for Flynn at The Rex in New York. Seems like just yesterday, and now we have three children. Time flies, you know?”
I nodded in agreement. “I know. Believe me.”
“Oooh, color me intrigued.” She leaned forward like I was about to tell her a secret. “What’s your story with Colt?”
“Only that they were like, instantly together,” Joni said.
I cracked out a laugh. “You were pushing us together. You were all pushing us together.”
Joni looked at Barrett. “She got inked.”
“Oh, that’s right! Let me see,” Barrett demanded.
I dutifully removed my leather jacket and gave her my back. The tattoo poked out the side of my black tank, but Barrett still had to move the strap aside to get a really good look at it in all its glory.
“It’s gorgeous,” she breathed.
“Thanks.” She dropped my strap and I turned back around to face them. “You don’t have any tattoos?”
Barrett shook her head. “Nope.”
The server returned with our drinks. I lifted my rocks glass and sniffed cautiously. “Bourbon?”
Barrett turned up her nose at me. “Single malt scotch. Balvenie DoubleWood 17 year.”
I snorted. “Snob.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, huge grin on her face. “You are one ballsy lady.”
I held up my glass. “To ballsy ladies.”
“Hell yes,” she said. We clinked glasses and then she took a drink. “So. Joni, have you finally managed to seduce Zip?”
At ten o’clock the performances began. Burlesque dancers took the stage, singing and teasing their clothes off much to the enjoyment of the audience.
I was on my third drink—trying to keep up with Barrett and failing. Joni was still upright, yet her eyes were glassy.
“That looks like fun,” Joni said, wistfully glancing at the stage.
“It’s very fun,” Barrett said. “I used to perform, back in the day.”
“Did you?” I grinned.
Barrett winked. “Nothing gets a man to admit he wants you faster than when you entice other males to stare at you.”
Joni and I exchanged a look.
“We were planning on doing karaoke,” Joni said.
“Yes, we were. I forgot to ask if you were any good?”
She smiled. “I’m decent. I can belt ‘Proud Mary’ with the best of them.”
Barrett shook her head. “You need something else, something that goes with the theme of the club.”
“I know ‘La Vie En Rose’,” Joni said after a moment. “And I think I’ve had just enough vodka not to be embarrassed if I screw it up.”
“Perfect,” Barrett said, shooing Joni out of the booth. “Come on, let’s get you a costume and tell the Emcee you’re going to perform.”
“How are we getting the boys to come down here since they’re dealing with business?” I asked.
Barrett grinned. “Easy. I text Flynn and tell him I’m thinking about performing. He’ll rush down here to try and stop me.”
“Stop you?” I laughed. “Why?”
“Because I promised him I wouldn’t perform anymore.”
An hour later, Joni was outfitted in a gorgeous gold sequined costume with fringe and a feather headband that wrapped across her forehead, her face was done up in the true flapper style, and her hair was wavy and pinned back. She waited back stage, not at all showing any signs of nerves.
“Show time,” Barrett said as we retook our booth, which had remained empty the entire time we’d been getting Joni in costume.
Barrett took out her phone and shot off a quick text to Flynn. Not ten minutes later, Flynn Campbell entered the club, followed by the entirety of the Blue Angels.
Colt’s eyes met mine and he immediately came to me while his brothers took seats at empty tables and swarmed the bar. Patrons glanced curiously at the intrusion, but quickly turned their attention back to the stage and pretended they didn’t see the leather-wearing bikers in the upscale lounge.
“Hen,” Flynn growled as he stood at our table, peering down at his wife. “You promised.”
She lifted her glass of scotch to her lips and smiled. “Do I look like I’m performing tonight?”