I was on that stage in the first place and ignored the crowd of men cheering for me to take my clothes off. To them I was just a pair of tits and a girl with a great ass, a pretty thing their limp dicks could get hard looking at and fantasize about later on. They didn’t know my story. They didn’t know I took the stage imagining I was performing at Lincoln Center or that I spent ten hours a day studying at the New York Academy of Ballet. And they certainly didn’t care that the only reason I danced night after night at that sleazy club was because I felt obligated to help my mother.
They didn’t care but the man who saw me tonight did.
That man—that incredibly handsome man knows my story and he knows my dreams.
He knows I’m destined for so much more. That one day my name will appear on marquis all over the world and I’ll be a star.
A prima ballerina.
He knows because he’s been my brother’s best friend for as long as I can remember and the object of my desire since I reached puberty. And now, Rocco Spinelli, knows what I look like naked.
Well, mostly naked.
I often fantasized of the day when Rocco finally opened his eyes and noticed me as a woman and not just Joaquin’s annoying sister and I can tell you for certain none of those fantasies were set in a seedy strip club.
Chills shoot up my spine as I recall the look in his soulful brown eyes. They were so full of shock before they darkened and narrowed, taking in every inch of my body. The man sitting next to me in the backseat of this luxury car definitely noticed me tonight.
My mom always warned me to be careful what I wished for, that my wish might come true. Flora Cabrera was a pessimist. My brother says she’s bitter, that she’s been dealt a shitty hand at life and has struggled ever since our father left her. She doesn’t have faith in dreams because none of hers ever came true.
I agreed with my brother and every time my mother warned me to be cautious of my wishes, I dismissed it. She could spend the rest of her life hating the world, but not me. I’m going to embrace life and wish on every star all while chasing every dream.
But after tonight, I think she might be onto something. People should definitely be cautious of what they wish for because one day they might be dancing on a pole in front of the man they dreamed of marrying someday.
The car rolls to a stop and I reluctantly turn my gaze to Rocco. Since he emerged from the back entrance of Delilah’s Den and slid into the backseat beside me, he hasn’t said a single word, nor has he glanced in my direction. It didn’t bother me so much because I was still reeling from our exchange. I was also worried over how him finding me at Delilah’s would affect my arrangement with Mitch.
I don’t know what transpired between the two men, but I need to keep my end of the deal with Mitch or my mom will lose her restaurant. And let’s not even talk about what might happen if Rocco runs his mouth to Joaquin.
All hell will break loose and I’m not sure who will catch more heat—our mother, for not going to him for help, Mitch, for bringing the heat on our mother, or me, for cutting a deal with the asshole.
Yeah, I think it’s best if we leave my dear brother out of this mess. The thing is, I’m not sure how I can convince the brooding man next to me to agree to that.
Sighing, I cut my eyes to glance out the window and realize we’re not parked in front of my house. I inch closer to the glass and stare up at the fancy five-star hotel. Snapping my gaze back to Rocco, I point a finger at the window.
“This isn’t my house.”
A ballerina and a detective.
Give me a gold star.
“No kidding,” he mutters, scratching the side of his jaw. He turns to face me, his eyes sharp and assessing as they drink me in from head to toe. “Much better outfit choice.”
While he was in the club doing God knows what with Mitch, and the driver stood outside the car waiting for him, I took the time to change into the Victoria’s Secret sweatsuit I