Offensive Behavior (Sidelined #1) Read online

  “I’ve got half of what you gave Violet as a token of your appreciation, plus a dressing room full of flowers. I think that’s enough.”

  Oh no, she wasn’t dismissing him like that. “Let me take you out to eat. Yes or no, Lux? Anytime, anywhere you want to go.”

  She put her hand on her bare hip and his eyes went to the line of muscle there. All the spit in his mouth dried up. “You think this is a game, Reid? That you can play with me? That because I’m an exotic dancer you can dangle money in front of me and that’s all it takes to have me. You want to give me money, do it like everyone else does, sit at the stage and I’ll dance for you. Otherwise you’re just like the asshole in the alley, only better dressed.”

  He snapped his eyes to hers. “I’m nothing like that guy. I didn’t mean you to think I was buying you. I’m not. This is not what I wanted. I want to make it up to you.”

  She sighed. “You don’t understand how it works here, and I don’t date customers.”

  “It wouldn’t be a date.”

  “What would it be?”

  “It would be me taking you out to eat to say thank you for saving me.”

  “I didn’t save you.”

  But she could. He shook his head. He didn’t know where that thought came from. “Please let me take you out for a meal. You name the time and the restaurant.”

  “I’m a dancer, not a prostitute. “

  “You’re an athlete and now you’re insulting me. I said a meal and I meant it.”

  She looked at her shoes, so Reid did too, his eyes running over the swell of muscle in her thigh, the even circle of her kneecap, the bunch of her calve and the slim turn of her ankle strapped in shoes that must’ve taken lessons to walk in.

  “I don’t go out with customers, Reid.”

  If that was her real objection it was easy fixed. “So I’m never coming to Lucky’s again.”

  Her hands went to her hips and she popped her weight to one leg. “Let me get this straight. If I agree to eat with you, you’ll agree to quit drinking at Lucky’s.”

  “That’s right.”

  She smiled. She didn’t smile on stage. He’d have been walking around with a mortal injury for weeks if she had. “Thank you for the flowers and the tips.”

  What? No!

  She spun around and made for the bar area. He got out of the booth and took a few steps after her. She was stopped by a group of men, shifting back when one of them made to touch her. What was he going to do if he got close to her? She’d brushed him off again. Of course she would, she knew him as a drunk, a loser customer of Lucky’s who’d never even had the courtesy to tip her before tonight.

  But it wasn’t enough and he wanted more of her smoky voice politely putting him down, more of her glittery eyes and not to be pushed attitude.

  He watched her disappear off the floor. He watched her dance, with his heart in his throat and his hands fisted. He didn’t like this feeling she made pulse in him. It wasn’t like anything he’d felt before. For a start he’d been semi-hard since he stood at his desk at home and wrote that note, now he doubted he could’ve stood straight without discomfort.

  He waited for her to look at him, to throw him some challenge, some acknowledgement from the stage. She danced three songs and never glanced his way, as if she’d already forgotten him, and he was surprised how much that cut.

  Vi tried to sell him whiskey, rum, beer, vodka, but he stuck to Coke. She told him not to take getting shot down hard.

  He beckoned her closer and she leaned down so he had a damn good view of her cleavage. “Do I Iook like a man who crashed and burned?”

  He was exactly that man, but Vi didn’t know that and Reid knew more about poker and blackjack than simply counting cards. This time Vi laughed.

  “I’d like to take you and all the dancers in this shift out for a meal.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You want to take all of us out, together?”

  He nodded once.

  “You’re kidding?”

  He gave her a not kidding eyebrow twitch.

  “What if she won’t come?”

  He nodded again. “If she won’t come, then I gave it my best shot.” And he’d have to find some other way to start redeeming himself.

  SIX

  “Oh no.” Zarley waved her hands in front of her face. “No, no, no, no.” It only made Vi laugh harder. She’d been laughing since she came into the dressing room with Reid’s damn note, and now she was back with his group offer. He was preposterous.

  “He’s not, absolutely not, taking us out.”

  “That very fine man can sure as glitter sticks take me out,” said Lizabeth.

  “Me too. Ages since I’ve had a good steak,” said Kathryn. She slapped her concave stomach as though it was missing the benefits of a chargrill.

  “I’m certainly not going anywhere with him,” said Melinda.

  Kathryn tossed her hair. “Knock me down with a feather.”

  “He doesn’t mean me, does he?”

  That was the new girl whose stage name was Tiffany. She looked to Vi who nodded. “All of us. He’s not joking around. I think he’s loaded.”

  He was clearly loaded. “I think he’s a dealer.” Who else would live like Reid did? That luxurious unfurnished apartment that was all gym and games, bath and bed. Which didn’t explain why he was a drunk and not an addict. Not that she needed Reid to make sense. She didn’t need anything from him, and certainly not flowers and dates.

  “So we eat and run,” said Lizabeth. “We’d be together. What harm can it do? Why are you so against this? You said he was trying to make up for being a douche that night in the alley.”

  “He is. I just. It’s just.” Even Melinda had stopped changing, to look at Zarley. She was half Flashdance, one hot pink leg warmer on, one off. She felt herself blushing. She liked these girls but they didn’t know about her past and she didn’t want them all over her present, and admitting what happened with Reid was too much detail, plus there was no reason to embarrass him.

  She’d knelt at his feet for heaven’s sake and he’d had an erection, even though he could barely stand upright. Cara knew how that night had gone down, had listened to Zarley tell the story of it with her normal fidgeting stunned to stillness, and no one else needed to. “He sent the flowers, okay.”

  “Hah, knew it wasn’t some mystery boyfriend,” said Kathryn.

  “Why’d you go telling us that porky?” said Lizabeth at the same time as Melinda said, “You lied.”

  “Because I didn’t want this.” She slapped both hands on her thighs. It was a nervous gesture she used to make before attempting a difficult vault, before the points scoring started, at the height of her anxiety about messing the skill up. “I didn’t want this fuss, you all up in my business and a big deal made of it.”

  “Well done,” said Melinda, dryly.

  “Wait, wait, wait.” Lizabeth plucked an oriental lily from the three dozen Reid had delivered. “It’s okay that you know about Kathryn’s quizzes and my little health scare and Mel’s cheating heart.”

  “Hey,” said Melinda. “You’re calling a suspected pregnancy a health scare.”

  Lizabeth ignored Melinda and twirled the flower. “But when your life walks in this door and gives us hay fever you don’t share.”

  The new girl sneezed, which thoroughly underlined the point.

  Put like that, Zarley felt stupid keeping her secret. What did it matter if she told them Reid got sick, that she’d taken him home to his lonely drug den where he’d passed out?

  It mattered. It just mattered. She’d had a lifetime of too many people knowing too many intimate details about her: height, weight, mood, diet, right down to when she was ovulating. She didn’t wish that on anyone else.

  “He sent the flowers because he saw what happened in the alley with that guy, and was an asshole about it. But I don’t want this to go any further. He wanted to take me out to apologize and I said no.”

  “That�
�s why you were out on the floor,” said Kathryn. She took the lily out of Lizabeth’s hand and put it back in the beer jug that served as a vase. “At least it wasn’t roses.”

  “Now he thinks he can get me to go out with him if he takes us all. He tried to bargain with me. Said he wouldn’t drink here anymore if I went out with him.”

  “You’ve seen him up close, does he smell bad, does he drool, touch himself all the time? How bad could it be to let the guy buy you a meal?” said Kathryn.

  Zarley snapped her fingers. “He thinks he can buy me.”

  “True,” said Vi. “Wallet stuffed with cash. I think I could’ve taken more from him.” She pursed her lips in annoyance.

  “Drug money,” said Melinda and it broke the tension, they all laughed. “It probably is, and that’s not funny.”

  “I think it’s hella funny and I can’t see what’s wrong with us all having a spend of Mr. Back Booth’s drug money for a nice meal,” said Lizabeth.

  Zarley tensed all the way to her toes. “No, please. He’s trying to manipulate me.”

  Lizabeth looked to Vi. “Does the offer stand without her?”

  “I checked. It does.”

  Lizabeth clapped her hands together then made as if she was diving. “Then I’m in.”

  Kathryn mock backstroked. “Me too.”

  “Why the heck not?” said Vi. “You might as well come too, Therese.”

  Ah, that was Tiffany’s real name. “Suit yourselves, I’m not going.”

  Zarley turned away to sort her costumes while the rest of them discussed it and Melinda pointedly hogged the mirror. It quickly proved impossible to line up a date and time they were all available until Vi suggested supper and it was agreed they’d go right now, tonight at closing, in case Reid backed off the offer.

  After that there was much coming and going from Vi as she negotiated with Reid and much yelling from Lou for someone, someone, anyone to please make love to a pole before he had another birthday, and for Vi to get her tush back on the floor or find another club to hostess at. Lou was all talk, he’d never sack Vi, she was as much an institution here as he was.

  Reid wasn’t all talk. He didn’t throw up an excuse or leave and not come back. Lizabeth knew a place open twenty-four hours with a whatever you liked menu. Reid sent back a message to say he was delighted they’d taken up his offer and would Lux please reconsider.

  “He actually used the word delighted?” Kathryn asked Vi on one of her many backstage flits.

  “He did. He’s a little weird. Not a regular Joe. He has that glowering thing going on and I’m not sure if he has a sense of humor.”

  “Think he’s married?”

  “No ring.” Vi shrugged. They all knew that didn’t mean anything.

  “You’re really doing this, even though it will only encourage him and that’s not what I want,” Zarley said, while around her the girls were changing into their street clothes, taking a little more care with their makeup and hair than usual.

  “It’s free pancakes and bacon, Zar. We don’t like him we walk away. We don’t want him out the front, we tell Lou to bar him,” said Vi. “He drank nothing but Coke tonight. Lou will bar him anyway if he keeps that nonsense up.”

  Zarley shook her head and shouldered her bag. She quit the club with Melinda, leaving the others to their primping. Reid was waiting on the street when they emerged from Lucky’s. His face lit up with a smile that made Zarley stop dead so Melinda walked into her.

  Melinda grunted and sidestepped. “Damn, it’s going to rain,” she said, looking up as if the thunderous, low-hanging sky was the reason Zarley had two lead feet.

  But Zarley had never seen Reid smile before. It took ten years off his face. He looked almost boyish. It made her wonder for the first time how old he was, not as old as she’d thought judging by his usual scowl.

  “I hoped you’d change your mind. I’ve got a car coming,” he said, then stuck his hand out to Melinda. “I’m Reid.”

  “I’m delighted, but I’m going home,” Melinda said, playing up his word, avoiding his hand.

  Reid didn’t appear to care. “Let me pay for your cab.” He strode to the curb and flagged one down.

  Melinda stood there as the cab pulled up. “Why would you do that?”

  “It’s late and you’re tired and I want to,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at Melinda. He was looking at Zarley and he was further gluing her feet to the pavement with this new manipulation.

  Melinda looked Reid up and down. “I guess it’s no different from a tip, okay then.” He opened the back door of the cab and Melinda scrambled in, then he handed the driver a couple of bills and by the time Melinda’s ride pulled away, the others had piled out Lucky’s front door.

  They crowded Reid, Vi handling the introductions. Reid smiling like he’d entered the candy store and had an unlimited budget and a genius metabolism. He’d hired a car for them. Who would do that? Crap. She could be halfway home by now.

  “Goodnight,” she said, and it stopped their chatter. Any minute now the sky was going to open up and wash the world. “Have fun.”

  “You’re seriously not coming,” said Kathryn.

  “Nope,” she said.

  “Let me get you a cab,” said Reid. She might’ve expected that, but she’d been braced for him to pressure her into going with the group. Before she could decline his cab offer, his car pulled up, a big black SUV.

  “We can drop her off,” said Lizabeth, as if this was her expedition.

  “No.” Last thing she wanted was Reid knowing where she lived. “That’s not a good idea.”

  The girls started scrambling into the SUV, Lizabeth snagging shotgun. Reid stood apart, watching Zarley with that intense stare.

  She bounced her bag, pulled the strap higher onto her shoulder. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I was hoping to show you I wasn’t a threat. That I didn’t want anything from you. I didn’t intend to be inappropriate.”

  There was a shriek of laughter from the SUV, followed by a rumble of male protestation and a blast of music, and then the rain started.

  Zarley pulled the hood of her jacket up. “I think they’ve got inappropriate covered. Thank you again for the flowers. Goodnight.”

  “Please let me drop you somewhere. I won’t look. You can blindfold me.”

  She took a breath, he really was a good-looking guy, and not drunk, not sick, he was so much more appealing, so the idea of him in a blindfold, at her mercy, hmm. “You won’t look?” She glanced at her trainers, splashed with rain. It was ridiculous.

  “You know where I live,” he said with an indignant huff.

  She looked him up and down and failed at making the gesture snarky like Melinda had. He was tall, lean, with wide shoulders and a stance that said go around me I’m not moving. “You don’t think you’re safe from me?”

  He lowered his chin. “I’m not the one who went all Black Widow in the alley.”

  She laughed. She couldn’t help it. Reid kept smiling and they were both getting wet.

  He pushed dark hair away from his face. “The way out of this is to let me buy you supper, breakfast, coffee, whatever.”

  She’d had worse offers, from less interesting men. And he really had bent himself into a pretzel over this.

  “Come on, Lux. You don’t ever have to see me again after this.”

  “Promise?” He’d better keep that promise, because liking him might become a problem.

  He put a large spread hand to his chest. “Cross my pickled heart.”

  He did have a sense of humor.

  She got in the SUV and Reid squished in beside her, his thigh aligned with hers, his arm over the back of the seat to make more room. Her shoulder was wedged against his chest and it didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. She thought about him wearing a blindfold all the way to the diner, and she dried her rain-wet clothes from the inside out.

  SEVEN

  Reid didn’t have to say much, the place was
buzzing, the women kept up the chatter, the food was good, and he was genuinely hungry for the first time since he’d been sick. He sat between Vi and Lavinia. Cinnamon and the new dancer, Tiffany, the one who’d cried on stage, were opposite him with Lux between them. It was clear they didn’t want him to have their real names. It was equally clear he was only here as their wallet.

  He tried not to stare at Lux, which logically should’ve been easier than when she’d stood in front of him wearing not much at all, but he’d felt the warmth of her body from rib to hip and all along his thigh in the car and there was no getting away from the fact his obsession with her had exploded into full-scale ambition.

  She had a gray hoodie on with jeans, not a lick of makeup on her face. It was positively church on Sunday in comparison to her usual look. The only skin she showed was at her face, neck and hands, but still he did a slack job schooling his eyes, and then she unzipped her hoodie and revealed a scoop-neck tank and he gave up trying not to look at her.

  He liked looking at her no matter what she wore, and what did it matter? This wasn’t work, he didn’t have to hold himself apart. The women knew he’d sent the flowers, and had been a dickhead in the alley, and he’d keep his promise, thwart his own ambition, and never see Lux again after he sent everyone home in the car.

  The one mystery, if he put aside the overwhelming desire to know what Lux’s skin felt like under his palm, what it might be like to touch her shiny hair, run his finger over the peaked bow of her full top lip, was why she hadn’t told the others how she’d saved his sick sorry self from being rolled on the street or picked up for vagrancy.

  Curious that.

  Why would she do that?

  “Aren’t you going to ask why we’re strippers?” asked Lavinia.

  He wasn’t. He intended to watch Lux and construe increasingly more distracting fantasies of them together in his head, like holding her hand, making her smile, kissing her, rubbing his hands over her naked body, so he didn’t pick up the subtlety until it was too late.

  “Why are you all strippers?” he said.