I have enough to deal with right now. I’m not in the headspace for a relationship.”
“So, you live with Sloan and Dylan?”
“Until I can move back into my apartment.”
She asks me a few more questions about my living situation, and I tell her about the eviction. She gives me a sad look, and even offers support, but I don’t want her pity.
Does my life suck at the moment?
Definitely.
Will I land on my feet?
I always do.
As if Dylan’s ears were ringing, my phone dings with a new text message from him.
Dylan: I need your help with something.
Ash: Explain yourself, Mister.
Dylan: How do you feel about cabaret?
Ash: Let me guess… You want me to dance for you? I only did that because it was your birthday.
Dylan: And you almost broke your ankle.
Ash: Don’t remind me. That was so unsexy.
Dylan: Everything you do is sexy.
Ash: Stop trying to charm your way into my pants.
Dylan: I don’t need to use charm to get you into my bed.
Ash: I’m at lunch with the girls. What do you want?
Dylan: Is that any way to talk to the man who gave you five orgasms last night?
When I don’t respond right away, he sends another text.
Dylan: We’re meeting the Exact Match guys tonight at a cabaret club.
Ash: And you want me to come?
Dylan: Sloan insists on making this deal work.
Ash: But you don’t want it to work?
Dylan: Long story. Are you coming?
Ash: Can I bring Willow?
Dylan: Bring whoever you want.
I glance up from my phone and look across the table at Willow. “Are you in the mood for cabaret?”
“Oh, you need to come,” Savanna says, beaming with delight. “We had so much fun the last time.” She angles her body to look at me. “Tonight is amateur night.”
Willow gives me a gentle shrug and then says, “Count me in.”
A brilliant idea pops into my head, an idea Dylan and my brother will hate.
Chapter Twenty-One
Dylan
Ash looks surprisingly calm when we walk into Bella’s Cabaret. A mischievous look crosses her face as she stares at the stage at the center of the club. A group of women stroll past us in flapper costumes, and Ash’s eyes illuminate.
What are you thinking, woman?
“Cheer up,” Ash says to me under her breath. “You look like you’re going to kill someone.”
I force a smile. “Better?”
She throws her head back and chuckles. “Stop acting like…” Her mouth opens wider as she considers her next words. “Like you.”
“Who should I act like?”
“You know what I mean.”
Instinctively, I move my arm behind Ash and dig my fingers into her hip, pulling her closer. “You didn’t have a problem with me last night.”
She bites her bottom lip and then looks up at me. I expect another smartass retort, but Ash presses her lips together and looks away. Sloan glances over at me, and I release my grip on Ash.
I haven’t told Ash about the deal with Exact Match. Sloan is dead set on making this happen, while I have been dreaming up ways to shut it down. I considered telling her, in hopes that she could talk some sense into Sloan.
But what’s the point?
When Sloan wants something, he goes after it all costs. He doesn’t see the risks. My business partner has tunnel vision when he sets his sights on the next shiny object.
The hostess leads us to a group of reserved tables close to the stage. Savanna is sitting on Max’s lap with her tongue shoved down his throat, grinding on him. His younger brothers, Ryan and Shawn, are on his left, talking to the half-naked drink girl.
The tall blonde is wearing a black and red corset, matching panties, and fishnet stockings. All of the club employees are dressed similarly, most of them wearing articles of clothing from the Roaring Twenties to match the club’s theme.
Elaborate black and gold art deco designs cover the walls. Among them are photographs from the Prohibition days in America. Men dressed in bowler hats and suits are sitting among a crowd of beautiful women dressed in elegant gowns, dandling cigarettes from their fingers.
Sloan sits next to Max on the bench, and his head snaps in our direction. Max shakes Sloan’s hand and then reaches out to shake mine. I don’t want to be here. The deal with Exact Match will hurt our progress with Date Crashers. And what bothers me most is that Sloan doesn’t believe I can create a competitor to Exact Match. If he did, we wouldn’t be meeting with these guys.
A jazz tune belts through the speakers as