I sat at a different table this time, but one still far back from the stage. All the tables at the front of the room were taken—the men crowded together, anxious to see the dancers up close and personal. A small flicker of jealousy lit inside me at the thought of all the men gaping at Crystal, but I tried my best to extinguish it. I couldn’t even get her to have a cup of coffee with me. I had no right to be jealous.
I hoped I had arrived after she’d danced but with enough time to be seated before she came out to serve drinks, and it seemed I had lucked out with my timing. Twenty minutes after I got there, Crystal emerged wearing her waitressing outfit. She stopped in the doorway, an empty tray in her hand. My heart flipped over. A loose braid fell over one shoulder, several pieces of hair already escaping and hanging around her heavily made-up face. She looked both innocent and far, far too knowing at the same time. A complete paradox.
I felt somewhat anonymous as I watched her from the crowded room, sitting in a place she wouldn’t necessarily expect. I hadn’t meant to set things up so I could watch her without her seeing me, but as it turned out, that’s just what I was able to do. She seemed to make it a point not to look at the table I usually sat at, but I watched as she moved into the room, and I saw the moment her eyes darted quickly to that table and then lingered on the guys who were sitting there. Something bleak seemed to come into her eyes, a sort of knowing apathy as if she’d figured I wouldn’t be there and it confirmed her low expectations. Or was I reading too much into one fleeting expression?
Trust yourself. Go with your gut.
She turned my way, and when our eyes met, I saw her jerk slightly, so slightly, but I’d seen it. She blinked once and then sauntered my way, stopping in front of my table. I wanted to stand, but I had no reason to do that, so I looked up at her, feeling awkward and shy—knowing that just by being here I was asking her to hurt me, and yet not being able to stop myself. Coming back here—it felt irrational and illogical and foolish and right.
“You’re back,” she noted dully.
I attempted a charming smile, but had a sneaking suspicion it looked more like a self-conscious grimace. “I am.”
“I’m still not the right girl.”
“I still don’t agree.”
She sighed, turning her hand over and studying her nails for a moment as if I might very well be the most tedious person she’d ever dealt with. “The other girls have been asking about you, you know. They’d like a chance to get you alone in a room.” She swept her arm around. “You have your pick. Seriously.”
I frowned. “I made my pick. You.”
Her lips formed a thin line. “It didn’t work out.”
“It did work out. That’s what you’re afraid of. Why?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I needed money to pay for car repairs. I got what I needed and now I’m done. I found it … distasteful.”
A spear of hurt ripped a jagged path down my spine, causing me to wince. She watched me, and though her expression remained unaffected, her face paled slightly. “Just go, please,” she said, her voice cracking on the last word, right before she whirled away.
I took a deep breath, running my fingers through my hair, feeling sad and foolish. Crystal.
I watched her serve a few tables, her smile seeming even more hesitant than usual, her laugh more forced. You’re an idiot, Gabriel. She told you to leave. Go.
I finished my beer and paid my tab, finally walking back to the hallway where Anthony was sitting on his stool. I was going to give this one final chance and then this was it. He nodded at me.
“Will you tell Crystal I’m here?”
“She didn’t give me word she’d see you tonight, man.”
“Will you ask her anyway?”
Anthony looked at me and nodded slowly, surprising me with the sympathy that came into his eyes. As if he’d been in situations like this a hundred times with poor saps who came to this club, and fell in love with one of the girls, and were turned away. Typical, his look said. Sad, but typical. “Sure thing, buddy,” he said, standing and walking leisurely down the hall. I put my hands in my pockets and waited.
When he came back two minutes later, he motioned to me. “Come on back.” I startled, shocked. I had been expecting to say thanks to Anthony and walk to my truck. Hope soared in my chest. I followed him to the same purple-curtained room I’d met her in before and smiled at Anthony as he pushed the door open for me, nodding once before closing it again.
I rubbed my hands together, the hope suddenly mixing with nervousness. She was giving me one more chance, and I didn’t want to mess it up. I didn’t want to squander this opportunity, because this was it. I couldn’t come back after this—I was already skating the thin line between persistent and stalker. It could be argued that I’d already crossed it. Christ. I groaned aloud because it was true and the noise broke the silence of the room. There was a light knock on the door, and I frowned slightly because Crystal had never knocked before.
“Come in,” I called.
The door opened and a woman with short, spiky, scarlet-colored hair, wearing a black leather teddy of sorts and fishnet stockings walked in. “Hey, handsome.” She smiled, bright red lips parting to show white but slightly crooked teeth.
“Hi. Uh, I’m sorry but I was waiting for Crystal.”
She walked to the sound system, pressing some buttons before turning. A loud, seductive beat filled the room. “Crystal’s not available. She sent me. My name’s Rita.”
“She sent you?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper over the music. Why would she do that? She knew I wouldn’t want anyone else—knew I’d be unable to tolerate anyone else. Ah, God, that’s exactly why she’d done it. I told myself it was unreasonable to feel so hurt, and yet I felt it all the same. A sick feeling of betrayal.
“Yup.” She moved quickly toward me, pushing me backward onto the couch. I sat down with a startled intake of breath, and before I realized what was happening, she was on top of me, straddling my lap. My head filled with fog, a red, pulsing alarm. She leaned forward and rubbed her breasts in my face, the cloying sweetness of perfume mixed with the musk of unwashed skin. She smelled … dirty.
He’d smelled dirty.
Can’t breathe.
My heart rate jumped erratically, and I turned my face away, cold panic sweeping through me at her unwanted touch. Run! Fight!
I pushed at her and she let out a surprised yelp as she fell to the side, landing on the couch next to me awkwardly. I scrambled up, my breath coming out in harsh gasps. “God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
She glared at me. “What’s your problem? You don’t like girls, or something?”
I ran a hand through my hair, fighting to draw in air. “It’s not you, it’s not—” I needed to go. I was sweating and shaking and I felt nauseated. “I’m sorry,” I repeated, practically running toward the door. I flung it open and stumbled into the hall. Anthony looked up as I approached, his brow furrowing. I looked away. He didn’t say anything, just leaned back as I passed him.
As I was heading toward the outside door, Crystal appeared to my right, still in her waitressing uniform, holding a tray of drinks, having obviously come from the bar. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes growing wide as she took me in. The shame in her expression was little comfort to me in that moment. She turned her head and looked at the floor.