As weeks turned to months, I’d liked her even more. She didn’t conform to fit in with the other girls. She simply was herself. There’d been forgiveness in her. Kindness and sympathy.
She became that beautiful, coveted orchid that I could never have.
Logan slapped me on the shoulder. “Hey. If you need to fight, let me know.”
He knew playing the drums helped with my anger, but even more was the punching bag or when we sparred together. The most recent being after my father had called.
I nodded. “Thanks. Might take you up on that.”
Normally, I had control. Steady. Easygoing. Nothing unsettled me. But this shit with my father and now Savvy brought back everything I’d buried a long time ago.
The dog swam after Ream, paws scratching his back as he paddled away from him. “Shit. Tear. Fuckin’ Kat will break my balls if she sees scratches all over my back.”
Logan chuckled.
I didn’t. I was thinking about the thank-you note Savvy had left on the steps for me under the rock. Some of the words had been smudged from the rain, and it was crinkled and torn, but I still had it. The only personal thing I’d kept from back then. Now, it sat in the nightstand drawer with the same rock.
“Name?”
“Savvy. Bree, one of the dancers, told me to see Frankie, but I never told her my name.”
The security guy smiled. “Right. Hijack.”
“Hijack?”
“You hijacked the cage.”
I offered a tentative smile. “That would be me.”
“I’m Jacob.” He opened the club door. “Piece of advice,” he said before I disappeared inside. I turned to look at the bulky guy. He looked to be about twenty and had tattoos covering every visible inch of skin showing, except his face. “Don’t let Greg see you. He’s still pissed you deaked out on him Saturday night.” He chuckled. “Doesn’t help that we roosted him on it. Boss man wasn’t too happy with him though.”
I felt bad about that. I didn’t want Greg to get in trouble. I’d have to apologize.
“Thanks for the advice, Jacob.”
“Sure thing,” he replied and shut the door behind me.
I stood in the foyer of the club, expecting it to be dirty and unattractive without the nighttime glow from all the blue lights. But the place was spotless, with clean stone floors and charcoal gray walls that had a shimmery effect on them. As I walked into the bar and dance floor area, I saw the four ornate floor-to-ceiling columns standing in a circular display around the dance floor, reminding me of a Greek arena. The cages were beside each column on pedestals and my skin heated thinking about dancing in there.
I heard voices and my gaze directed to the stairs up to the VIP section. Three women descended while chatting, and I stopped.
“Frankie, come on.” It was Bree. “One Saturday. It’s important.”
“Everything is important to you,” the woman replied. It was the gorgeous woman I’d seen talking to Killian, who I guessed was Frankie, the woman who hired the dancers. “You had last Saturday off.”
“And another in May,” the third girl chirped as she stepped off the last stair.
Bree sneered and shook her head, mimicking her by mouthing the words. I smiled liking Bree immediately. She reminded me a bit of Mars. She didn’t look like she’d take much shit from anyone.
“God, he’s going to have a shit fit,” Bree muttered.
Frankie had her hand on the railing as she turned to look at Bree. “You need to dump that asshole. He’s a useless piece of shit who does nothing but feed off you.”
Bree’s shoulders slumped. “I know. I know. But he’s fun.”
“He’s fun because he’s not stressed. Because he doesn’t work and lives off his girlfriend—you”—Frankie put her hand on Bree’s arm, and her face softened—“kick him to the curb, baby. Then we can go out and celebrate. Drinks will be on me.”
Bree hugged Frankie. When she pulled away, she noticed me standing at the entrance. “Hijack. You showed. Come meet Frankie.” She paused and said halfheartedly, “And Tabitha.”
“Tab,” the other girl corrected.
I walked onto the dance floor, my heels that I was forcing myself to wear every day, clicking over the polished stone floors.
All eyes were on me and my pulse raced as I felt my cheeks flush. It was unnerving to be scrutinized, and it was scrutinized because Frankie was looking me up and down probably deciding whether I looked good enough to dance, while Tab was scrutinizing, no doubt evaluating the possible competition.
“Hey.” I waved when I drew closer. “I’m Savvy.”
Bree skipped over and put her arm around me. “Frankie, this is the girl from Saturday night.”
Frankie approached, and I was a little intimidated, okay, a lot intimidated. When she walked, it was with presence, her shoulders back, chin up, not too much, just enough to let a person know not to fuck with her. This was the kind of woman Killian would totally go for, confident and self-assured just like him.
She held out her hand. “I’m not sure if this is a pleasure or not considering you danced in one of our cages and then snuck out on Greg.”
I had debated a million times over whether to come, but I had nothing to lose. At least by showing up, there was a chance I had the job. “I’m so sorry.” I didn’t want to lie and tell them about Killian, so I avoided. “I know I broke a club rule, but I just wanted a chance. A piece of paper doesn’t show what I can do.”
“Club rules aren’t to be broken—ever. Got it?” Frankie said, frowning.
I swallowed, nodding.
Bree laughed. “Don’t worry. You’re not getting arrested or banned from the club or anything. Frankie just likes being a hard-ass. Besides, Brett wouldn’t allow it. He deals with his own shit. The only time he would let the police in the club is if there was a murder, and that wouldn’t happen because…” She shrugged. “Well, you just wouldn’t do that shit in Compass. It’s why I like working here. Safest club in the city.”
“Did Mr. Westhill see me dance?” I asked tentatively.