“What the hell have you gone and gotten yourself into now?” he asked his old friend.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sean shrugged, but he couldn’t completely hide the wicked intent in his eyes. When Sean barged into his office an hour ago, he had been very specific – no more interactive show segments with Nicki. If Sean wasn’t such a good friend (and he hadn’t owed Sean a few favors), Jason would never have even considered such a crazy suggestion. Nicki was a goldmine - she drew the men in, no doubt about that. Attendance had risen in the couple of weeks she’d joined the staff, and that was no coincidence. The atmosphere was definitely more electric when Nicki was around. And yeah, it heightened the tension, but Jason had no doubt he could handle it with a few more well-placed men. Keeping her out of the show was going to hurt his bottom line.
He’d told Sean as much, but Sean wasn’t the least bit sympathetic.
Hell, after watching the show those two had put on, Jason couldn’t really say he was surprised. He’d had his eyes glued to the monitor during her performance, every bit enthralled as those down on the floor. A woman in the throes of pleasure was impossible for any healthy man to ignore, and Jason was no exception.
“Right,” Jason scoffed. If Sean didn’t want to come clean, it was no skin off his nose. They already had a hell of a lot of secrets between them; one more wouldn’t matter. “But we’re even now, true?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Later, Jacie.”
Jason shook his head as Sean cheerfully whistled his way down the corridor to the private exit. The two of them went back a long way, and Jason had never seen Sean so proprietary over a woman. Sean wasn’t exactly a flowers-and-roses kind of guy, prone to romantic gestures. It was kind of amusing, actually, seeing his badass friend smitten. He always knew that when Sean fell, he would fall hard. The funniest thing was, Sean probably thought he had it all under control.
Sean was going to have his hands full with this one, though. Nicki wasn’t like most of the women who worked at Angels. It was easy enough to understand their motives – kids, college, mortgage, but none of those seem to apply in Nicki’s case. Whatever drove her wasn’t so obvious.
A drug habit, maybe? Instinct told him no. She kept herself in excellent shape, and her focus and control were unquestionable. Supporting someone else? Again, not likely. A background check listed only her brother as next of kin, and he had his own job in town (working for Sean Callaghan, no less).
Even more intriguing than her underlying motivation was the woman herself. Stunningly lovely with her dark hair and unusual eyes, he could easily picture her in an elegant ball gown at a gala premiere, yet she wore the whole bad girl persona like a second skin. She came across tough as nails on the outside, but sometimes – like those few minutes when she thought he was firing her – he had the impression she was as fragile as fine crystal on the inside. If anyone could reach her there, that was.
Jason sighed heavily and resumed his seat behind the desk to start going through the night’s receipts. Whatever her deal was, she was Sean’s problem now.
The thought made him smile.
*
Nicki was in her own little world as she made her way back to the dressing room. The few others still there looked at her questioningly, hoping for some scoop, but she refused to meet their eyes. It took only a few minutes to don her street clothes and grab her few personal belongings. There was no sense leaving anything here if she wasn’t sure she was coming back.
Nicki peeked cautiously out of the club’s back entrance. Club security kept things pretty tight, but there were usually a few losers out there, hoping to get lucky. It looked strangely empty, tonight, though. With a sigh she pulled down her baseball cap and pushed the door open slowly, half expecting someone to appear out of the shadows. She gripped her keys between her fingers in one hand and fisted a small roll of solid steel in the other, just in case, as she walked quickly across the lot.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise when she saw him by her bike, leaning against the black and silver Harley parked next to it. She ignored him, mounting her quasi-Ducati as if he wasn’t even there, glad beyond measure when her badly-shaking legs didn’t give out on her completely. As far as she was concerned, they were even. She’d invaded his space, he’d invaded hers. End of story.
“Aren’t you even going to acknowledge me, Nicki?” His deep, male voice caressed her as tangibly as if he reached out and touched her and made her tingle in all the right places. It evoked a small but potent echo of the sensations that had rippled through her body only an hour ago. And it pissed her off.
“It meant nothing,” she bit out, cursing herself for saying anything, for even feeling the need to.