Swindled in Paradise (27 page)

Twirling in front of the mirror, I admired my elevated cleavage, admitting that it looked damn impressive. Maybe I could borrow this outfit for a sexy dinner at Creole’s. I fished out a pair of black onyx earrings from my jewelry box and a matching bracelet watch, a gift from Mother. When I bent at the waist, the round part of my cheeks flashed me in the mirror. My legs were tan, so I ditched the stocking idea and shoved my feet into low, chunky-heeled pumps with a strap. I twisted my curls into a loose bun and used a big clip to hold it all in place.

The plan to tell the guys at the last minute had fight potential written all over it, so I fessed up to Creole the night we accepted the job. It took him so long to respond, I got nervous, wondering if this would be the job where he’d draw the line and demand I bail on Brick. He grilled me on the details and extracted a promise that Fab and I would work the same shifts and leave the club together. If there was a hint of trouble, he’d better be my first call and not be told after the fact.

Creole and I had spent the day together, walking on the beach and tossing a Frisbee. We ended up on the deck overlooking the water at Bart’s waterfront dive, sharing a grilled seafood platter. Then I enticed him into his big bed, telling him I was in desperate need of a nap so I wouldn’t fall asleep on the job. We arrived back at my house in time for me to change my clothes and get to my first day on the job early.

After one last look in the mirror, I grabbed a sweatshirt jacket that would cover my backside for a just-in-case moment and crept to the stairs to survey the room before being seen.

The element of surprise eluded me. Creole’s and Didier’s heads immediately snapped up from where they sat opposite each other across the coffee table, commandeered for a game of poker. I contemplated a sexy entrance, slinging my leg over the banister, à la saloon girl from the old west, and sliding down. A flash of me tumbling over the railing headfirst made me reconsider. I descended the stairs, holding eye contact with Creole and adding just enough wiggle to my step to give him something to think about.

Creole wolf-whistled and cheered. Standing, he met me at the bottom of the steps, hand out.

I slipped my hand in his.

“You look really hot,” he rumbled into my ear, nibbling on the lobe. “Now go upstairs and put some clothes on. I’m thinking sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt.”

“Very nice,
chérie
.” Didier checked me out from head to toe.

“Close your eyes,” Creole barked at him.

“Ta da.” Fab stood at the top of the stairs, arms spread wide over her head, making her entrance like an exotic dancer. Not a stumble.

Creole kept me glued to his side as Fab breezed by into Didier’s outstretched arms.

“You two are not to be separated.” Creole looked down at me, then over at Fab. “Didier and I are in agreement about how much danger you will place yourselves in, and it’s a very low bar. Right, Fab?”

Fab glared back at him.

Didier tightened his hold on his girlfriend. “Fab reassured both Creole and I that this job was about gathering information and handing it over to Brick for him to take action, and that the two of you won’t be involved with that part. Correct?” Didier scrutinized us, one dark brow arched. “I’d like to hear a verbal confirmation that there will be no misunderstandings.”

I wanted to laugh at the frustration on Fab’s face. She’d never outright lie to him.

“You have my word,” I reassured both men. “No playing the hero, even if I have to put a bullet in your girlfriend’s a…backside to stop her.”

“You need backup for
any
reason—” Creole raised his voice slightly to reinforce his order. “Call or text the first number on your speed dial. I’ve arranged for a friend who lives out there in a shack he’s named ‘The Palace’ to show up. He assured me he can be there in five minutes. You’ll recognize him straight-off; he dresses in camo and smells rank.”

I smiled up at him. “You know the most interesting people.”

“This is a pot/kettle situation, considering the people you know. It amazes me –
you
can call the most unlikely people, and they never say no.”

Fab snorted. “That comes from her folksy, ‘How’s the family?’ crap. Ouch.” She stepped away from Didier, hands on her hips, and glared. “It’s true,” she huffed.

“Come on, sister.” I held out my arm. “Nice boobs,” I said with admiration as I looked at them neatly on display.

Fab ran a finger across her cleavage. “They came out good, didn’t they?” She smiled down at them.

Creole and Didier laughed.

“Only girls can get away with those kinds of compliments,” Creole sighed. “You two look hot.” He shook his finger. “Stay out of trouble.”

Didier took Fab in his arms, murmured something in French, and kissed her.

Creole laughed again.

Fab turned. “Eavesdropper.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, eavesdropper extraordinaire,” Creole grinned at her.

Chapter 37

One hour into my shift working the dressing room at The Gentleman’s Club, and I loathed it. My toes felt swollen, trapped in tight leather. I’d do anything to wear a pair of flip-flops. The dancers would probably laugh at me; not a single one complained about strutting around in killer stilettos. I worried about Fab serving drinks to the drunks but knew she could handle men of any age.

My preconceptions about strippers were blown to bits after meeting the girls. A couple of them I’d met before, but by silent agreement, nothing slipped out indicating that we had met previously at Brick’s. Not after they were warned by the boss himself to keep quiet or else.

“Or else” had me wondering what action he would take, but I didn’t ask.

Most of the women had families to support and, in a couple of cases, children’s private-school education to pay for. There were a few working their way through college, who knew it couldn’t be done on minimum wage. Others were looking for a daddy. Few saw it as a long-term option, with the exception of a couple looking to get into management.

Brick had hired almost all female staff, except for a half-dozen burly men that guarded the exits; however, a woman was in charge of security. He’d given us the name of the two girls we had to befriend and snoop into their private lives—Octavia and Delight. I noticed a third girl, Nala, who showed up for her shift with a shiner, claiming to have run into a kitchen cabinet door. She spent quite a bit of time in front of the mirror, slathering on makeup to hide it.

The manager, Tilly, informed us on our arrival that the edict from Brick was that Fab work the floor as a trainee cocktail waitress and I the dressing room. We arrived early. The music was blaring and not all the tables were filled, but they were at half-capacity.

Given the choice, I’d rather be the cigar girl. I had a minute to chat with her while helping to fasten the tray across her shoulders, which she insisted didn’t hurt. She laughed, saying the harness she used forced her to have perfect posture. The tips were excellent, and due to her costume, the touchy-feely by over-amorous customers was kept to a minimum.

I helped the girls with their costume changes, fetched accessories, and refilled cold drinks, all the while asking questions under non-stop, frenzied activity. Fab had whispered a reminder to skim through the girl’s belongings when I got a chance. I balked at that idea, knowing I’d be tempted to shoot anyone
I
caught doing that. There wasn’t any reasonable explanation; they’d be convinced I was stealing.

I was in the changing room, going through Octavia’s bag without finding anything useful, when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. My heart pounding, I looked furtively in the mirror. My breath whooshed out of me when I saw that it was Fab who stood in the doorway, waving me over.

“I hate this job,” she grumbled. “My feet hurt.”

“Stop your whining. Good thing I threw your ugliest pair of shoes in the back of the SUV. Go change,” I ordered.

“They have a smooshy heel, and they make me look dumpy.”

If she hadn’t had such a woeful look on her face, I’d have laughed at her. “You can rock those shoes, and your feet will thank you. The girls will be envious.”
Okay, they wouldn’t, but it sounded good.
I gave her a shove into the hall.

Tilly burst into the room thirty minutes later, ready to explode. “Anyone seen Fab? The new girl.” She glared at me.

I shrugged and shook my head. The clock said we’d been here for three hours.

A thorough search of the club was ordered, but Fab couldn’t be found anywhere. The dancers paraded in and out between changes, but tongues wagged and gossip ran rampant. “F-ing the owner was how she got the job,” I heard whispered. I hoped that Fab was just pulling one of her stunts and wasn’t in real trouble.

An hour later, Fab returned with a swagger and an unrepentant look on her face, picking up a tray as though she hadn’t gone missing. I timed my break just right and had a ringside view from the bar area. One of the bouncers ordered her to the manager’s office, but she’d only made it to within a few steps of where I stood when Tilly intercepted her. The short, blistering lecture the manager served up about her unprofessional conduct burned even my ears. Tilly signaled for a bouncer, and two showed up to escort Fab to the door, one on either side of her. “You’re fired and don’t come back,” was Tilly’s parting shot.

Tilly waylaid me before I could take a step, and said, with derision in her voice, “You can get your things and leave. If your friend left anything, get it now.” Her hands twisted into fists as she barely controlled her fury. “This is what happens when men let their dicks do the hiring.”

* * *

“Why? Why? Why?” My voice got louder with each word.

Fab slunk down in the driver’s seat, head hunched over the wheel, and remained silent.

“One night!” I exploded.

“Oh, calm down. It’s not like we need this job to climb the ladder of success,” she snipped.

“Don’t you mean
pole
?” I snapped. “I’ve never been told to leave on my first day on the job. At least I wasn’t sacked like you.”

“You’re mean.”

“Aww.” I wiped the non-existent tear from my eye.

“Once you hear what happened, you’ll feel guilty about your bad attitude towards your best friend.”

I kicked off my shoes and tossed them in the back, ignoring her completely.

Fab let out a melodramatic sigh, “I came out to change my shoes and couldn’t force myself to go back in. Then I got sidetracked, using a handi-wipe to get the beer stink off me.” She shuddered. “I hadn’t been there an hour, one I’ll never get back, when another girl bumped into me. Beer mugs tumbled off her tray, and the liquid spilled down my legs. Can you believe she blamed me?”

I looked at her, letting her know she’d lost her mind.

Fab put her hand down her top, removing cash. “This goes in the change holder. I’m saving it to get drunk as soon as feasible, so I can forget this night. More than once, an anonymous hand stuffed money in my cleavage while I was supposed to be cleaning tables.”

I smiled at the visual of Fab bussing a table, then lowered my seatback, reclining it as far as it would go. “I want to go home,” I said, and closed my eyes.

“Can I go fast?”

Chapter 38

The next morning, I woke up before anyone else and took my cup of coffee out to the pool, flinging my feet over the side and into the water. I had texted Creole the second we arrived home, and instead of calling back, he showed up, informing me before the first kiss that he couldn’t stay long.

“We were tossed off the property,” I murmured.

He gave a deep, throaty laugh. “I’ve got the cure for a crummy day,” he said and kissed me. He disappeared through the opening in the fence.

Lost in thought, I brushed my chin, reveling in the whisker burn, hoping it wouldn’t go away anytime soon.

Fab plopped down next to me. “How are we going to finish up this job?”

“We’re not. And you can be the one to tell Brick. I’m sure he’s heard about last night, and I’m sure he’s not happy.”

My phone rang, giving her a reprieve from answering. Seeing Brick’s name, I groaned. Fab had no intention of dealing with this mess—she’d obviously turned her phone off.
Might as well get it over with.

“What the hell happened last night?” he screamed, loud enough that I didn’t need to hit the speaker button.

He cut off my attempt at a hastily edited version of events. “Can you finish this job on your own? If I override Tilly and send Fab back, she might quit.”

“I’m in a relationship and very happy. If I go back there alone, my boyfriend might take his anger out on you and follow through on his threat to make you disappear.” I tossed out a hastily conceived plan about staking out the parking lot, ignoring Fab’s gesturing at me to put the call on speaker.

“This is all your fault,” I informed him. “You’ve known Fab long enough to know this idea was frankly, a bad idea.”

“Let’s go with Plan B. If you don’t get anything new tonight, I’ll think about a Plan C,” he grunted. “The girls really liked you.”

“Then you won’t mind if I keep my uniform?”

“The boyfriend likes it, does he? Can’t say I’m not a romantic.”

His dirty laugh made me scrunch up my nose as I ended the call.

* * *

Fab spit out frustrated noises, swerving onto Tamiami Trail in the direction of the club. “I hate this job.”

“Oh, stop your whining. If you hate it so much, call your friend Brick and tell him we quit. You should thank me for convincing the man to let us confront Octavia and Delight outside the club. Otherwise, you’d have no choice but to bail on the case.”

“What have we got so far?” Fab asked testily.

“You know we don’t have zip,” I frowned at her. “I thought the idea that someone would show up inside the club to harass the girls was stupid with a bodyguard at every door.”

“Which means the harassment must be happening at home.”

“And we don’t know where that is,” I said. The addresses Brick had on file were a dead end; Octavia used a mail drop and Delight an empty lot.