The brunette slides over and I scoot in. I tuck my hair behind my ear, stalling as I try to think of how to start. They stare at me expectantly.
“Um, well, you see … I heard you saying that the club was short dancers for this weekend.”
Sabrina immediately understands where I’m going with this. “Do you dance?”
“I’ll be honest with you, I have no experience, but I’m desperate for money. If I don’t come up with some soon, I’m going to lose the bar, and it’s been in my family for generations.”
Brandy turns to me. “Mooney’s? I love that bar! That would suck.”
I nod. “My father died and now it’s my mother and three younger siblings sole source of income. My father left us with a mortgage loan and there’s a large payment due soon. I’ve been working my ass off trying to keep the place running. I’ve drained my bank account, sold my car, and now I’m at the end of my rope. I’ve got thirty days to come up with the payment or they’re going to foreclose and take the building from us.”
The two exchange a look. Sabrina runs her eyes over me. “So you want to try dancing?”
“At this point I’m desperate to try anything.”
“But do you have any dance skills?” Sabrina pushes.
I shake my head. “Do you think you could teach me? I’d pay you. It’d be worth it if I could make a bunch of money dancing.”
“If we weren’t in a bind, I would say no, but … What do you think, Brandy?”
“You know me. I’m a sucker for a sad story.”
“Would Centerfolds hire me?” I ask.
Again, they look at each other. Brandy says, “Well, Aspen would sure understand being down on your luck. She’s been there. Hell, most of us have. That’s how most girls end up dancing. And they are in a bind.”
Sabrina arches one brow. “Look, if you’re really serious about this and you’re not going to waste our time by chickening out at the last moment, I could probably give you a couple lessons and get you in. But only because I like Mooney’s.”
“Oh my God, you’re a lifesaver! When can we start?”
Sabrina chuckles, then rolls her eyes and asks, “Can I finish my lunch?”
Five hours later, Bethany and I are sitting in Sabrina’s condo while she does my hair and makeup. My hair is teased-up and sprayed. I look like some eighties rock star. Brandy applies heavy eyeliner to my lids, giving me cat eyes. Appropriate since Sabrina is slipping leopard cat ears on my head. It goes with the sexy barely-there outfit she’s loaning me to dance in tonight.
I stare at my reflection, hardly recognizing myself.
“Wow,” Bethany says. “You’re fucking hot, girl!”
“What do you think?” Brandy turns to Sabrina and asks.
“Some of my best work ever!” she replies, and they high-five each other with a smack of their palms.
Sabrina picks up her cell phone and makes a call, putting it on speaker.
A woman’s voice comes on the line. “Hey, Sabrina. Please don’t tell me you’re sick with the flu too.”
Sabrina chuckles. “Nope. Actually, I may have good news. I’ve got a friend in town for a couple weeks. She was wondering if she could take a few shifts at the club.”
“Can she dance?”
“She’s not bad. Pretty too. She’s got this gorgeous hair the color of pale fire.”
“I’m desperate, so I’ll take your word for it, darlin’. Just get her ass up here tonight.”
“Will do. See you soon.”
She disconnects. “You’re in, babe.”
“God, thank you so much for all of this. Really, you’re like my fairy godmothers or something.”
“You’re welcome. Now you’ve got to do the rest, girl,” Sabrina warns me.
Bethany’s eyes cut to me, and the look she gives me asks without words if I’m really going to do this. I swallow and look away because I have to do this.
Brandy looks at Sabrina. “She’s got the dance down, but she still knows nothing about how to work the floor.”
“You’re right.” Sabrina puts her hands on her hips and turns to me. “Listen up, Michaela, I’m gonna give you all my best tricks, okay, and I never do that.”
I nod, determined to learn everything she’s willing to share.
Twenty-Nine
Sly—
The six of us roll up to Centerfolds and park up front. It’s a clear, starry night, but chilly as hell. A cold snap rolled in yesterday, dropping the temperature, so we’ve got the leather out tonight—chaps and everything. Normally, we wouldn’t bother, not for a short ride, but we’re coming back from a run that had us rolling over five hundred miles up to Nashville and back.
I climb from my bike and pull off my helmet, then grab a ball cap and put it on backwards. I’m not in the mood to party, but its Bash’s birthday and Chaos insisted we do it up right.
“Guys, this isn’t necessary,” Bash claims, and I’m sure he’s anxious to get home to his ol’ lady.
“Fuck that shit, Bash. We’re doin’ this. Besides, I need a break from the clubhouse. Change of scenery.” Chaos growls.
North smacks the back of his fist on my chest. “Maybe it’ll pull Sly out of his funk too.”
Bouncer chuckles. “I’ve seen that funk, she’s five feet, eight inches of sex-on-a-stick.”
Chaos drops his helmet on his seat. “Aw, did somebody finally wrap your dick around their little finger, Sly?”
“Fuck off, all of you.” I stride toward the door and pull it open, holding it for my five fucking brothers who know me like the back of their hand and know just where to land a dig. If I’m being honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way. “Let’s get drunk.”
“First good idea you’ve had all week, asshole,” Bash says, pinching my cheek as he walks past.
I slap his hand away. “Just for that, I’m gonna make them sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to your ass, dickhead.”
That wipes the smile from his face. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”
I just grin and waggle my brows. Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.
We troop in, not bothering with the cover charge, because we own the fucking place. We find a table in the back, center stage.
Ariel scurries to remove the Reserved sign, and I realize Chaos must have planned this night and made the call. She takes our orders, and we all slump back. I unsnap my leather cut and yank off my gloves, shoving them in a pocket, then pull off my night riding KD glasses with the yellow lenses and shove them up on my hat.
I glance over at Jinx, who, of course, keeps his dark shades on and shake my head, grinning. How the man sees in here with them on, I’ll never know. It’s like he’s got magical cat eyes or some shit.
Ariel returns with a tray of drinks, as well as the bottle of tequila and six shot glasses that Chaos ordered. He passes them around and tilts the bottle, filling everyone’s glass.
“To Bash. Happy birthday, brother,” he says.
We all raise our glasses, and then toss the shots back.