“Jill, slow your breathing,” Slade’s voice soothed in her ear. “You are doing great. Try to bend so we can get a shot of his phone when he has it out.”
Nodding, Jill cursed when she made eye contact with George. He was probably wondering what the hell she was nodding at. She gave him a shy smile, but he didn’t smile back. She had no clue how long she danced, but in all honesty, she had to respect the women around her. This was damn hard work. Some songs were slow and seductive, while others were fast and grinding. Thinking she was surely failing big time at this mission, she felt a hand on her leg. Looking down, George waved someone to bring a chair. Jill carefully stepped down, her feet throbbing as George stood, holding the chair out for her. She noticed a few other girls sitting talking with the men they were dancing for.
He downed the rest of his drink, raising the empty glass to the waitress before sitting down. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Lola,” Jill said in her sexiest voice, smiling shyly, wondering if he liked the shy-girl routine. Until she figured it out, she’d play that part.
“Nice to meet you, Lola. I’m George.” He nodded at her, and then looked at his phone. “What would you like to drink?”
Looking up at the waitress, Jill frowned, not knowing what to order.
“All the girls have a two drink maximum.” She smiled down at Jill, realizing she was new.
“Oh, I’ll have what he’s having.” Jill didn’t know what else to say unless she ordered a diet Pepsi, and well, that wasn’t sexy and didn’t inspire a man to open his soul to her.
George raised his eyebrow to that, but he didn’t say anything.
Jill felt sweat bead across her forehead. She honestly didn’t know what in the hell to say and suddenly wished she was back on the table dancing, which was saying at lot.
“Tonight your first night?” he asked, placing his phone back down before looking at her.
“That obvious, huh?” Jill thanked the waitress when she put her drink in front of her.
“No, not at all. You’re very…talented,” George laughed, lifting his drink up and taking a swallow. “It’s just I usually get the new girls.”
Following suit, Jill took a large gulp of the drink the waitress sat in front of her and about spit it back out. Her eyes watered and her throat burned like fire. “Holy shit,” Jill sputtered as George chuckled, patting her on the back.
“Jesus, Jill, slow down on that stuff,” Slade’s whispered voice echoed in her ear.
“Are you okay?” George leaned toward her, his smile genuine.
Jill nodded, trying to smile her sexy smile, but failed miserably. “What is that?”
“Jack and Coke,” he laughed, shaking his head. “More Jack than coke mind you. Just take smaller sips and it will go down nice and smooth.”
Touching her throat, Jill laughed, “Packs quite a punch.”
“That it does.” He lifted his drink up with a grin, taking another long swallow.
Once Jill regained her composure, she smiled at George. “So why do they give you the new girls? Why don’t you just find one you like and ask for them?”
“No, I’m fine with the new girls.” He glanced around. “Just gives me someone new to talk to who doesn’t give a shit what I’m saying.”
“Well, George, my feet are killing me, so thank you for asking me to sit,” Jill gave a teasing grunt, putting her elbows up on the table, leaning in.
Giving her a small smile, he texted something else on his phone, a large frown playing across his face. Jill did her best to see, but the angle wasn’t right. He slammed his phone down hard on the table then took another drink, almost draining the glass.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but work is driving me crazy,” he sighed, his eyes searching hers as if looking for some answer to an unasked question. “So what made you decide to do the half-breed gimmick? Good job on the fangs by the way; they look real.”
Okay, she was stumped. She heard cursing in her ear, which indicated they weren’t going to be much help. Well, this could go one of two ways; he could take her in for being a half-breed or he could not give a shit. She was hoping for the not give a shit.
“They probably look real because this…” she waved her hand over her face, “is not a gimmick.” The cursing in her ear stopped, replaced with dead silence.
“Ah, shit.” George scooted away from the table. “You need to…you shouldn’t be at my table. Do you know who I am?”
Well, shit, that didn’t go over well. “No, actually, I don’t. Should I?” She played dumb.
“I’m Mayor Ferguson’s Deputy Mayor.” He reached over, draining his glass, motioning for another.