I did as Vik told me to. I ordered a drink, took a seat, and faced the stage. Half an hour later, the show started. The lights dimmed low and spotlights shone on the stage; the curtains opened and I gaped.
Four men, gorgeous and ripped, wearing white material draped over their upper thighs, showing the tops of their asses, holding up a woman draped seductively on a small sofa attached to a platform. Each man took a corner of the platform and carried her in effortlessly.
It was quite a show.
The woman, who had a feathered fan covering her face, lowered it as the men placed the sofa on the ground.
“Fuck a duck,” I whispered.
It was ChaCha. She was dressed as a Greek goddess. She, of course, introduced herself as Aphrodite.
I watched her performance. It was a skit of sorts, a cross of stripping, drama, and humor. I didn’t want to admit it, but she was a good actress. She had the men eating out of her shimmer-covered hands and staring at her glittered bosom. It finished when ChaCha was down to her pasty-covered ChoCha.
The men cheered as the curtains fell. The music was turned up, and two other women took to the stage to perform a very average pole routine. I’d seen better at Bleeding Hearts. Half an hour later, another skit took place.
I was beginning to see why men were flocking here. It was different. The laughter the skits provided was infectious and improved the overall atmosphere in the club. It wasn’t seedy, and it made the environment easier, less sleazy.
Unfortunately, I was starting to see why they had a winner.
I’d seen enough. Standing, I moved to leave, but was almost bowled over by a man. I squeaked, steadying myself before I fell. The man turned. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He smiled apologetically.
Oh, dear God.
My heart sank so deep it ended up in my stomach.
Sandwich bar guy’s eyes narrowed at me. “Hey, I know you.” He looked me over. “You’re the homeless chick.”
I shook my head, trying to look angry at his calling me homeless. “No, I think you have the wrong person. Sorry.”
I moved to walk away, but he caught my arm, pulling me back. It was obvious he’d had some to drink. He laughed loudly. “Oh, come on, I know it’s you, girl. No man forgets a face like that.” He leered down at me. “You’re looking much better.”
“Get your hands off me,” I sneered.
He tsked. “Too bad you’re not hungry anymore.” He shook his head in regret. “Damn, you’re a pretty one.” He leaned down to speak directly in my ear. “I’m regretting not taking you up on your offer that night. My cock craves your mouth, baby.” He added, “What would it take for the offer to be reinstated?”
“Hell to freeze over, you dirty asshole.” I shoved him away as hard as I could. He lost his balance, fell back, and all attention fell on me.
Hundreds of eyes turned to me. I flushed, looking toward the security guards that had just stepped forward to intervene. I snapped at them and spoke brashly, “Is that how you let men in your club treat women?”
Then I made a huge mistake.
I walked away, calling back loudly, “No, thanks. I’ll be taking my business to Bleeding Hearts.”
Chapter Twenty
Laredo
My mouth parted in shock. I watched the woman leave, my heart beating fast.
Alessio came to my side. “What should I do, Pop?”
My eyes turned to focus on the man she had argued with. “Ban him.”
My son stilled and I felt Alessio’s shock. “What? Why? They had words, that’s all. No big deal.”
I shook my head. “This is a safe environment, figlio. He brought that shit into my club and killed the mood. I won’t tolerate it.” My mind made up, I repeated myself, “Ban him.”
Alessio left to do my bidding, but I was still focused on the exit. I was sure I’d seen a ghost.
“Clara,” I whispered to myself. I needed to see her again, see her up close, with my own eyes.
And I knew just where I’d find her.
Chapter TwentyOne
Mina
We drove back to Bleeding Hearts in silence. Vik caught the panicked look in my eyes and rushed me into the car. Lev was driving before the passenger door even closed.