Still, the best answer in this case was the simple truth. “I have a sister. I know what I’d want someone to do for her in that case.”
The bartender cautioned, “The tab is a hefty one.”
I looked from him back to Marcus. “That part is not my problem and out of courtesy I’d expect it to go away.”
Marcus looked a little smug at that. “You’ll owe me one.”
I leaned in until we were nose to nose. “I don’t owe anything to anyone. Never have, never will.”
Marcus took a step back and I almost smiled. I’d been told I was paid differently than other dancers because my act was unique. It wasn’t an act.
I hated dancing for money, but not my reason for doing it. The money was good and allowed me to help my mother afford treatment beyond what her insurance covered. It wouldn’t always be like this. The doctors said one more back surgery and her pain would be alleviated. After that, I’d save enough to move her and my sister, Riley, into a better neighborhood. Only then would I allow myself to circle back to what I wanted—and that was to get off the stage, reenroll in college, and return my life to how it had been before my mother had told me the truth about how she’d hurt her back.
If he wasn’t already dead, I would have hunted down my bio-father and killed him for what he’d done to her. She endured decades of fear and pain all because of one man—Antonio. The name alone was enough to turn my stomach.
I couldn’t go back in time and change what had happened to her, but I could ensure she received the best medical treatments out there. That wasn’t cheap. Dropping out of college to make that happen had been a necessity—and dancing paid better than any of the jobs I’d been able to find. Riley had left college to help as well, but I carried the bulk of the financial weight. I’d do much worse than baring skin for strangers before I’d ever let my sister do anything similar. She worked in a T-shirt shop for her best friend and played bridesmaid at weddings for extra cash. Although we’d shared the same womb, Riley and I were very different people. Like our mother, she’d been born with a sweet, optimistic nature.
I was cursed with a darker side, a demon I barely kept in check. It was that rage that I put on stage each night.
And women loved it.
How anyone could find the anger I had for the “sperm donor”—the man who had beaten my mother so badly that she’d nearly miscarried me and Riley—attractive was beyond me.
He’d broken her back, left her in constant pain and fear, and never looked back. Yet somehow, she’d given Riley and me a loving home and a somewhat normal childhood. She deserved every good thing we could do for her.
I shook my head as I imagined what my fans would think if they knew she was the reason I was on stage. They’d disperse for sure. Invio was a bastard they loved to imagine taming and it was best to let them maintain that fantasy.
The bartender shifted from one foot to another. “What should I do with the tab?”
I looked Marcus in the eye and let the demon in me meet him there. He blinked first. “Comp the drinks.”
I nodded once and turned my attention to the reason I wasn’t already back in my hotel room. The little brunette was the only person left in the main room. She was slumped forward, face hidden in her hands, with her tiara hanging precariously off one side of her head. I sat in the seat across from her. “On a scale of one to ten how drunk are you?”
From behind her hands she mumbled, “Nine. Maybe twelve.” She lowered her hands revealing a face smudged with makeup. “I forgot my wallet at the hotel.” She blinked a few times quickly. “I could come back with money.”
“The tab is paid. Do you have anyone who can come for you?”
Fresh tears filled her eyes and her face crumpled. “I did, but he’s fucking Daphne.” She turned her phone toward me and tapped the screen.
I read the messages, glanced at the photo he’d sent, and grimaced. “What a douche.”
She waved her hands in the air. “We’re getting—were getting married in two weeks. Now what do I do? Why would he do this?” She picked up her phone. “I need to ask him why.”
I removed the phone from her hands and replaced it on the table between us. “You don’t. He’ll only lie. I know it doesn’t feel this way now, but he did you a favor.”
Her gaze met mine and for a moment her pain was so tangible I felt it. “Favor? He was my chance to have the life I’ve always wanted.”
I remembered something my mother had said once about how she’d initially believed my bio-father was her “Prince Charming.” He’d swept in, said all the right things, and sold her a fantasy about how perfect life would be with him. “He wasn’t. I don’t know what he told you, but the man who sent you those texts doesn’t give a shit about you.” She burst into tears again and I swore. I probably could have worded that better. I rubbed a hand over my forehead and tried again. “Don’t cry. He’s not worth it.”
She sucked in a shaky breath. “We were going to have a nice house, some kids, and live happily ever after.”
I cocked my head to one side, intrigued by something that was none of my business. “Do you even love him?”
“Of course I do.”
“I don’t think you do.”
She glared at me. “I don’t care what you think. You don’t know me or him.”
“I’m not saying what he did wasn’t a dick move, it’s just interesting that you sound more upset about not getting that house and kids than losing him.”
If looks could kill I would have been dead. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be dancing somewhere?”
My eyebrows shot up. “Ouch. Tell me what you really think of me.”
She looked away and blushed and my heart began to thud in my chest. There was definitely something there, but neither of us were in a place to act on it. In a quiet voice, she said, “Sorry, I’m just angry and hurt and disappointed . . . mostly in myself. I can’t believe I was so stupid. If he really was at the gym a few nights a week he’d have a much better body.”
I smiled at that and removed her tiara. “That’s better. Mr. Pudgy doesn’t deserve you.”
She sniffed and wiped at the corners of her eyes. “He isn’t fat—just soft.”
I didn’t see how that was better. “Okay.”
She sniffed again and raised her gaze to mine. “I liked who I was when I was with him. We had dinner parties with friends. My grandparents liked him. Outside of my degree, he was the first thing I’ve done that they really approved of. They want to see me settled and safe. With him, I would have been.”
I didn’t like that she considered her life unsafe without a man. What did she feel she needed to be saved from? “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
She laughed without humor. “No. I’m my own trouble. I don’t blame them for wanting me to do better than my mother did. They feel like they failed her and they’re trying to do better with me.”
She didn’t look like someone who’d done worse than putting trust in the wrong person. “What happened to your mother?”
Her face crumpled again. “She overdosed when I was a baby. I never knew her.”