by Shayla Black
Suddenly the sun burst through a cloud, and she smiled as she rested her cheek on his suit coat. Their future looked very bright, indeed.
About Sierra Cartwright
Sierra Cartwright was born in England, and her early childhood was spent traipsing through castles and dreaming of happily-ever afters. She was raised in the Wild West and now lives in Galveston, Texas. She loves the beach and the artistic vibe of the island.
The international #1 best-selling author began writing books in elementary school, where her wonderful librarian "published" her first book, which was edited by her mum! Mum was very gentle when she told Sierra that baby was not spelled "babby."
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1
Reid
Noah Tripp, best friend and terrible influence, dragged me into the dark club, where jazz music crooned around us in a low but pulsing beat that I could feel in the depths of my soul. A few of our other friends followed closely behind, but since Noah had apparently planned the night and I was the man of the evening, we were leading the way…even though I didn’t have a clue where the hell we were or what we were doing.
It wasn’t often I found myself south of Houston Street in my amazing city of New York. There were only two reasons I knew of for coming all the way down here—shopping and dim sum. But based on this club with its red velvet curtains and patronage of scantily clad men and women, dressed in leather, I didn’t think we were out for soup dumplings tonight.
We walked up to the ticketing area and Noah wrapped his arm around my neck. “Hey,” he said, smiling at the woman seated on the other side of the table.
“Name?” she asked, completely disinterested in the fact that she had a group of very well-known celebrities standing in front of her. Two from the hit teen vampire show and one Tony Award-winning actor from the show I most recently directed. They were all highly recognizable. Me on the other hand? Not so much. Directors didn’t take a bow at the end of each performance. Our faces weren’t plastered all over posters and commercials—especially live theater directors. Not that I wanted it any other way. I got the best of both worlds—the red-carpet events plus I got to go grocery shopping in peace. That was more than I could say for poor Noah.
“Noah Tripp,” he answered, biting his bottom lip and leaning an elbow on her table. “I called to reserve a front table earlier today.” He had a smooth way with women… Hell, not just women. Everyone. That boy could talk his way out of a speeding ticket if he was going eighty miles per hour in a school zone while getting a blow job.
“Oh, right. Yes, of course.” The girl’s disinterest immediately morphed into what could only be described as pure lust. The switch was so drastic, so abrupt, that she must have known who Noah was and been a fan. “Right this way,” she said, crossing from around the table and leading us through a sea of people sitting and watching the stage.
An almost naked woman with tassels hanging from her nipples danced and writhed, making the tassels helicopter from her jiggling tits. “The night before my school’s integrity clause begins and you thought a titty bar was the proper place to take me?” I said, leaning into Noah.
James leaned forward, gesturing to the stage. “What better place to say goodbye to integrity for a semester?”
Noah rolled his eyes and, placing his hand at James’s forehead, shoved him back into his seat. “First of all, this is a burlesque show, not a titty bar. Big difference.”
My brows creased as I sat back and folded my arms. “How’s that?”
Noah gestured to the stage. “Burlesque is an art. They make their own costumes, choreograph their dances, have nom de plumes—”
“Pretty sure you just described strippers too.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “You’ll see. Just watch.”
A server came over in what looked like a mash-up of a roaring 1920s flapper and something goth you’d find at Hot Topic to take our drink orders as the tassel chick on stage finished up swirling her boobs around. “I’m gonna need a vodka soda,” I said. “Make it a double, since they’re paying tonight.”
Noah winked at me. “That’s the spirit.”
“The only spirit I’ll have is in a tall glass on the rocks. Once midnight hits, the semester has officially begun and I need to get out of here like Cinderella at the ball.”
“Oh, come on,” James said. “They’re not that strict, are they?”
I lifted my brow, pausing for effect. “It’s academia. A private university. If I had to guess, I’d say they’re very serious.”
Noah sighed as the waitress dropped off a tray of drinks to our table. I wrapped my hand around the already sweating glass, catching the ice-cold droplets of water against my knuckles. “I know you said no strippers…”
“And yet here we are,” I grumbled. I hated that I was in my early thirties, wildly successful, and still no one took what I said seriously. Unless it was stage directing… Then I was fucking Yoda to them. But God forbid I say that I don’t want to go to a strip club… It’s like I’m invisible.
“But,” Noah continued, “I think you’ll really appreciate this if you open your mind. Some of these girls are really talented. Like…maybe even good enough to be dancers in your next show.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. If there was one thing New York City wasn’t hurting for, it was more undiscovered talent. The city was crawling with it. Like cabs. All you needed to do was stick out a hand and twenty aspiring actors would flock to you.
And yes, I might be a little jaded, but frankly I was tired of being the one in charge of finding that talent.
Noah narrowed his eyes at me. “Dude, why did you take this interim teaching job if you’re not interested in scouting the talent of new students?” he asked, practically reading my thoughts.
I lifted my glass to my lips and drained half of it far faster than I intended. I could lie. I should lie. But Noah would see right through that. Even though he was ten years my junior, he was an intuitive little fucker. “Because Faith booked a national tour and needed to find a sub in order to take the gig. It was either I fill in for her or she won’t have a teaching job when she returns.”
James and Simon groaned and Noah rolled his eyes. “Faith, your ex-fiancée? As in, the ex who cheated on you with the star of the show you were directing them both in and then married him, not you? That Faith?”
I winced but nodded as the table grew silent. “Did I not mention that before?”
Simon leaned into Noah. “You owe me fifty bucks.” But Noah didn’t stop glaring at me.
“Yep,” he said to Simon. “I sure do. Because I said there was no way in hell our friend was that dumb after all these years. I said there had to be another reason why our Tony Award-winning director friend would be taking a short hiatus from directing to teach a semester of acting for a bunch of grad students.”
I stared into my glass, unable to meet his eyes. “They’re undergrads, actually.”
Noah threw his hands in the air, letting them fall onto the table, rattling the various glasses. “Even worse.”
I narrowed my gaze at Noah. “How is that worse?”
“I don’t know. But it’s not better.”
“If I recall,” I said, regarding him quietly but firmly, “you didn’t go to college at all, right? And yet here you are, making a career for yourself. I had no idea you would be such an academia snob.”
“You’re right. And I remember you drunkenly scoffing when Faith and Tony started teaching. Making some arrogant speech about ‘those who can’t do, teach’ or some shit like that.”
I cringed remembering the night. It wasn’t long after Faith and Tony had gotten married and I wasn’t in a good place. Hell, I wasn’t sure I was in a good place now either. But I was certainly better than before. “Yeah. I was just jealous that they were fucking happy and I was miserable.”
“And drunk,” Noah added.
I hissed through my teeth. “Thanks for the reminder.” I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. “I believe in the power of education. By whatever means people are able to do so. Whether that’s undergrad, grad school, or even continuing studies courses.” Not all of us were so lucky to come from affluence. Not all talented kids had the resources to get grants and scholarships and, hell, even afford to come to New York for a weekend audition into these schools. Sometimes it didn’t make sense to go into six-figure debt for a degree. Other times, it did make sense. There was nothing wrong with either path.
“I believe in education too. But you’re not teaching these kids because you want to. You’re doing it for your ex-fiancée, who fucked you over. How in the hell are you going to move on from her when you’re constantly still at her beck and call?”
I swallowed another gulp of my drink and slammed the glass down onto the table. “She’s my friend still.”
“Bullshit. She’s only your friend when she needs something.”
I could feel my ears get hot. Mostly because I knew he was right. Faith and Tony fucked me over. And yet, when she called asking for favors, I couldn’t help but come running. I cared for her. I wanted her to be okay. And these favors were the only way to remain in her life. The second I stopped offering her something, I feared she’d be gone from my life forever and I wasn’t sure I could handle that. “Look, kid, you’re my friend and I care about you, but back off. You’re also much younger than me. Maybe when you’ve been in love, you’ll understand that it’s not always that easy to just cut someone out of your life.”
“Bullshit. You’re a doormat for her and she knows it and uses it every chance she can. Why couldn’t her husband teach in her place?”
“He’s on the tour too,” I mumbled. “It’s the first acting gig they’ve each gotten since our show closed a couple of years ago.”
Once again, the table grew silent and the night that was meant to be celebratory soured into something dark and gloomy. After a few minutes, I heard Noah sigh. “Okay, well, tonight is the start of something new, right?”
I hissed a breath and gestured to the waitress for another drink, rattling the ice against the edges of the glass. “Sure.”
“I mean it, Reid,” Noah said. “Tonight, you begin to move on from Faith. This is the last favor you do for her. Open your mind to maybe, maybe, dating someone else.”
Noah was right. I needed to let go of Faith. She fucking married my best friend. I was like a stray dog getting fed scraps. It was better than nothing, so I kept coming back for more, despite the fact that I was still simply eating garbage. The more I clung to their friendships, the more I basked in the pain, unable to move on. Because I didn’t want to move on. I wanted to remain there with the pain and the sorrow… Because at least there, I still had her. Scraps of her, yeah. But I still had her. And I still had him. It was better than accepting the truth of losing them both entirely.
I squeezed my eyes shut and heard the waitress set another glass down in front of me. “Yeah,” I said, opening my eyes. “You’re right. It’s time to move on. This teaching gig is the last favor for Faith. Ever.”
Noah, Simon, and James all stared at me, shocked, eyes wide. Finally, James said, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A puff of air escaped from Noah’s pursed lips and he lifted his glass in the air, the rest of us following, touching the edges together. “Well, fucking finally.”
I held his eye contact with a single nod. “To new beginnings.”
It had been three hours and although I could see what Noah had meant—this wasn’t just a titty bar—I also didn’t necessarily see the “art form” he kept referencing. Most of the acts were some rendition of jazz with simple moves, very little technique, and a lot of skin. Not all that different from some stripper acts I’ve seen. Only sans the pole and pussy.
I took a final swallow of what was left of my vodka soda—how many did that make? I’d lost count. Then, sliding my chair back, I moved to stand. “Well, boys, it’s been fun. But I’m about to turn into a pumpkin if I don’t get out of here soon.” From what I’d heard, academia meant business with their integrity clauses. And while I didn’t necessarily care about this new teaching job all that much, and yes, it was my last favor for Faith…I didn’t want her to lose her job because of me. Frankly, I prided myself on fairness and being on the right side of history. I wouldn’t want it getting out that I was out at a nudie bar the night before my first teaching gig. Even if that fact was misrepresented.
“Oh, come on,” Noah said. “It’s not even midnight yet.”
The emcee came out center stage with the microphone in hand and pointed directly at me. “Sir, you’re going to want to sit down for this one,” he said, a smile tilting the corners of his mouth. “Trust me.”
I don’t know what it was about the way he said that. Or whether it was because I got singled out by the announcer of the show. It was almost like getting called to the principal’s office.
He held my gaze until I slowly lowered back into my seat, looking at my buddies. “One more number won’t hurt, I guess,” I whispered.
Seemingly satisfied that I was staying, the emcee looked up and out at the rest of the audience, announcing, “Up next, we have the one…the only…Hazel Moon!”
The slow piano treble notes hit my ears first. I recognized Nina Simone’s “I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl” filling the space, and one slender but muscled leg slid out from behind the red velvet curtain.
With the other acts, there was a constant cheer and whistling and catcalls. But now? The audience seemed mesmerized and as Hazel Moon swayed her body onto center stage, it was silent. Her hips churned hypnotically, circling to the beat. Her eyes swept the crowd, a mischievous smile tilting her mouth. Her dark hair, styled in retro curls, fell in her face and she nibbled on the bottom of her scarlet-stained lip. I watched her make eye contact, one by one, with random people in the audience, but when her eyes met mine, everyone else faded away. There was no one else in the room but her and me and she was dancing just for me. She paused, her hip pulses breaking for a fraction of a second. Did she feel it too? Or was this what she did? Was this her magic sorcery that made every man in the audience feel special when she laid her eyes on them?
I blinked, looking down at my glass, and when I brought my gaze back to the stage, she had moved on. Shimmying, she lifted her leg over her head in a high kick that rivaled the Rockettes. This girl was a trained dancer. I could see it in the turnout of her hips, the way she pointed her toe and squared her shoulders, down to the position of her gloved fingertips.
But what gave me the most pause wasn’t her dance training or her striking beauty… It was her costume. Unlike the other women who came out in sexy lingerie and feather boas, she was scantily clad in a Willy Wonka-esque costume, fully equipped with the cane, top hat, and deep purple tuxedo jacket. Beneath that, she wore what looked like a bedazzled yellow and purple jeweled bra and some sort of panty with a short skirt and hosiery. And of course…those long, purple gloves.
And thus, her striptease began as she slithered out of the tuxedo jacket, bending backwards and allowing it to slip off her slender shoulders to the floor, kicking it away. Next, starting with her pinky, she peeled the glove off her fingers, slowly trailing it over her skin down past her elbow and wrist. As Nina Simone crooned about sugar, she revealed a chocolate truffle in the palm of her hand.
The audience went wild. Where they were once silent, now they were screaming and whistling. She bit her bottom lip, looking out to the audience, and devoured the chocolate, slowly licking her fingers and giggling as the cheering grew louder. Unlike the other dancers, for the first time all night, it seemed like she got pleasure out of it too. Not just the audience.
She peeled off her other glove and, lo and behold, there was another chocolate, which she ate quickly. This time, she revealed the melted chocolate on her fingers to the audience, then slowly spread it down between her cl
eavage, rolling her neck back.
Drifting her arms into the air, she glided into an elegant split that, even in her hosiery and small skirt, left little to the imagination. Flawlessly, she spun and lifted back onto her feet, coming down the stairs into the audience, her eyes now locked onto me. She swept past Noah, Simon, and James and paused in front of me, jutting her hip out as an offering. I lifted my brows, crossing my arms, the smirk on my face growing wider.
Her expression shifted, one eyebrow arching like a cat stretching its back after a long nap, and we held an entire conversation without speaking a word, with a few eyebrow twitches. She pulsed her hips toward me, an invitation to tug on the scrap of silk tied around her waist, covering her ass.
“Your crowd’s getting restless,” I said. “Better move on to someone else.”
“Restless men tip better,” she whispered, then glanced at Noah, who gave her a wink.
“Dammit,” I grunted. “I should’ve known you were behind this.”
Noah held up his hands. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Reluctantly, I grabbed the string at her hip and she twirled away from me, pulling loose the scarf that was left in my hand along with a golden ticket taped to the inside. Hazel moved back into me, grabbing my wrist holding the ticket, and pushed it high in the air for the audience to see. They went wild. Almost as if they all knew what was going to happen. Like they were in on some larger cosmic joke that I was not privy to.
She grabbed my hand and tugged me onto the stage with her as I inwardly cursed my former best friends still down at the safety of our table. Putting her fingers on top of my head, she pushed me to my knees in front of her. Then, she pulled a chocolate out from inside her bra, put it between her lips, and bent to meet my mouth.
I swallowed hard, feeling the stir in my pants as I looked into her low-hooded eyes that in the spotlight looked like such a dark shade of blue, they were nearly black. She smelled like a heady mixture of lavender and chocolate as she hovered in front of me and I parted my lips for her, a movement that was entirely out of my control.