The Escape Collection: (The Escape Collection) (23 page)

“I’m really not.” I shook my head. I wanted so badly to believe that he wasn’t like other guys. But then again, there was the look on his face. He really didn’t seem to be enjoying himself. “Okay,” I admitted. “I do want to know, but only because it was so strange. You didn’t look like you were that into it.”

“I wasn’t.” He sat up in his seat. “I don’t even know how it happened.”

I shot him a look.

“Seriously,” he said. “I have no idea. I was waiting for you and then this woman—”

“Ruby.”

“Yes, Ruby. She came out of nowhere and dragged me in there.”

“She dragged you?” I raised an eyebrow but didn’t take my eyes off the road. I’d never met a man who had to be dragged into a strip club. “I’m sure.”

“It’s true.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Reid run his hands through his hair and turn toward me. “I swear it. She was saying something about not being allowed in the back hall and Brutus, and…I’m not really into that kind of scene. That’s more Duncan’s thing.”

For a moment I considered letting him continue. It was fairly entertaining listening to his justification. Instead, I said, “I believe you.”

“You do?”
 

“I do.” I pulled up to a red light and turned to look at him. “I’ve seen the way most men behave in there, and I can honestly say I’ve never seen someone react the way you did. Even the gay men don’t look quite so mortified. Are you—”

“I’m not gay,” Reid said with a smile. “I just really don’t get it. And since we’re talking about it, how exactly have you had the opportunity to see so many men and their reactions to strippers?”
 

I could feel my face heat up and I’m sure it was a very unflattering shade of red. Fortunately, the light turned green, saving me from answering. We didn’t speak for a few minutes and I could feel his eyes on me as I drove.

I came to a stop at another red light and without looking at him, asked, “Do you want to get a coffee?”

***

Reid sipped at his coffee, grateful to have something to counteract the whiskey from earlier. He didn’t normally drink much, especially the hard stuff. Perhaps downing two glasses so quickly wasn’t a great idea.

“Feeling better?” Whitney asked. “I’m sorry I ordered the drinks. But you didn’t have to drink them both.”

He took another sip of his coffee and said, “Don’t be sorry. I needed them.” Reid could feel his cheeks redden at the memory of Whitney walking in on his lap dance under duress. Awkward was an understatement.
 

It was obvious there was a lot more to the Lusty Lady than Whitney was letting on, but she didn’t offer any more information, and even though he wanted to know, Reid didn’t push. He’d recognized in her journal right away that she had a lot of built-up feelings from the past. Someone who writes with that much depth has known some sort of pain. For Whitney, it probably came in the form of her childhood.

“I’m sorry I took you there tonight,” she said, taking him off guard. “I sometimes forget that not everyone is as comfortable with that type of environment. And it’s not even that I’m comfortable with it, but, well—”

“It’s okay. I get it. You don’t have to explain. And please don’t apologize for anything. I wanted to keep you company, remember?”

She nodded.

“Can I ask you a question, though?”

“Of course.”
 

“What you said in the car,” he started. “About being on the pole…you…”

She smiled shyly and looked down at her drink. The image of Whitney dancing on the stage or sitting half naked on some strange man’s lap the way Ruby had flashed through his mind and he didn’t like the picture. “Oh,” he said, when she didn’t answer.

Whitney’s face transformed and she started laughing. “Gotcha,” she said, and shook her head. “I’ve never actually been on the pole or the stage. But I’ve seen enough, I could probably do a fairly decent job if I had to.”

“I bet you could.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You didn’t actually think…” Whitney picked up a creamer and tossed it at him. “I can’t believe you thought I was a stripper. Really?” She looked around, trying to determine if anyone had overheard them. “Is that what you thought?”

It was Reid’s turn to shake his head, clearing it from the ridiculous idea that Whitney would ever do that. “No,” he said. He lifted his mug to his mouth. “Not that you couldn’t,” he said before taking a sip. “Because you could.”

Whitney laughed again and Reid smiled. He loved that he could make that sound come out of her. After a moment, he said, “Can I ask you how long your mom’s been, you know…”

“Stripping?”
 

Reid nodded.
 

“Forever. Well, my whole life, anyway. That’s why Grams raised me. She kind of chose it. Stripping, I mean.”

Reid reached out, wanting to close the gap between them. “She chose it over you?”

Whitney waved her hand in the air, dismissing his concern. She tucked her hands under the table, and Reid withdrew his offer. “It’s fine,” she said. “It’s not really like that. I think she chose dancing at first for me, to support me. But then it became something else. She needed it. And she loves it. Anyway, I came to terms with it a long time ago. It’s just who she is.”

“You’re totally okay with it?” He didn’t believe anyone could be okay with parental abandonment, but if anyone would be all right with it, it would be Whitney.

“Don’t get me wrong, I went through a period in my teens shortly after I found out about it all, and I was really angry. But…it didn’t last. I mean, what’s the point, right?”

He looked at her, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “Right.” He nodded.
 

Whitney looked up from her drink and returned his smile. “What?” She sat back in her chair and self-consciously ran her hands through her hair. A stray strand slipped free and hung over her cheek. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Reid shook his head, trying to clear the overwhelming urge to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’m just impressed,” he said. “I can’t think of a lot of other women who would be okay with a mother-daughter relationship like yours.”

A slight laugh escaped her lips and they locked eyes. “I’m hardly okay with it,” she said. “In fact, not a lot of people know about it. You’re actually one of the few. Besides Kat, of course.”

“Of course.” Reid felt a glow of happiness that she’d shared with him.

“But, if you please wouldn’t say anything. I just don’t—”

Reid pantomimed locking his mouth. “My lips are sealed.”

“Thank you.” She looked down at the table. “It’s not that I’m embarrassed…”
 

“It’s just that you’re embarrassed.”
 

Whitney’s head snapped up. “I’m not…I’m just…”

“Does William know?” Reid wasn’t trying to be confrontational, but the question suddenly seemed important.
 

It took a minute, but eventually Whitney looked up and met Reid’s eyes again. She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “It’s complicated.”

Reid nodded, although he had no idea what could be complicated about it.

“You probably think I’m a coward,” she said.
 

“You’re kidding, right?” Whitney shook her head and looked down again, but Reid didn’t miss the sliver of a smile on her face. “You did just see me back there with that…um…dancer?”
 

Whitney laughed, and Reid was pretty sure it was the sweetest sound he’d heard all night.
 

“Getting myself into that particular situation, that wasn’t exactly worth an award in bravery,” he said. “But you, you were totally in control and confident. You weren’t intimidated at all.”

“Why should I be? It’s just a club, right?”

She was serious. The fact that she didn’t understand why some people would be totally intimidated in a strip club was cute. Very cute.
 

“You impress me, Whitney.” Reid took a drink, trying to hide his smile. “Not a lot of people would be so cool about it all.”

Her face changed again, the easiness from only moments before replaced with a sadness. She didn’t say anything right away and when finally she spoke, Reid knew he’d hit a nerve. “I’m definitely not cool with it,” she said slowly. “But I’ve learned there are some things you can change”—her eyes filled with tears as she spoke— “and some you can’t.”

Once again, Reid reached out for her hands, and this time he didn’t let her pull away. “I know,” he said.

“You do?”
 

“Whitney, I think I’ve said it before, but you have the most fascinating face because everything you’re ever thinking or feeling is written all over it.”

She ducked her head instinctively. Reid used two fingers to gently tilt her chin up so she was looking at him again. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Your open honesty is beautiful.” He didn’t know what caused the shift, but he was positive they were no longer talking about her mother. “Whitney,” he spoke her name softly, almost like a question.
 

She blinked and closed her eyes.
 

“I’m okay,” she said when she opened her eyes. “Thank you. For listening, I mean. It’s not always easy to talk about and like I said, not a lot of people know.”

“Anytime.” He squeezed her hands, unwilling to allow her to break their contact. He leaned in. He was so drawn to her; it felt natural to close the gap between them. She didn’t look away. “It’s good to talk,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.
 

“Yes it is.” Her voice was breathy. She swallowed hard, but didn’t break their connection.
 

Their mouths were only inches apart. The need to kiss her, to taste her, fueled him. The urge was too strong to deny. Reid leaned in at the exact moment Whitney pulled back. Her hands ripped from his grip and she stood up, pushing her chair back. “It’s nice to have such good friends,” she said. “I’m glad we’re friends, Reid.”
 

The word reverberated in his skull. He sat back in his chair and reached for his coffee. He barely tasted the almost cold drink, but was thankful for the distraction.
 

“We should probably get going,” Whitney said. She looked up but wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Are you okay to drive now?”
 

Reid nodded. He stood and started walking to the door. He could feel her fall into step behind him. He knew they could ignore the whole situation had just happened. He also knew it was the last thing he wanted to do. Making a decision, he took a deep breath and turned around so suddenly Whitney almost ran into him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know—”

Her lips were on his so quickly and so unexpectedly it took him a second to react. But only a second. He started kissing her back, his body reacting instinctually to her when Whitney pulled away and her hand flew to her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Reid. That shouldn’t have happened.”

His head pounded, trying to process why her lips were no longer on his. Without wasting another breath, Reid reached for her hand and tugged her back close.
 

“Reid, I don’t—”

Her words were lost as he pulled her into him. He wasn’t going to let her go. Not after that tiny yet completely intoxicating taste of her. Reid forced himself to take it slowly although every nerve ending in his body was firing. He’d been waiting and wanting to kiss her almost from the first time they’d met. But despite the intensity, he was determined to savor every moment. Her lips were soft and yielded to him as he gently explored her mouth. Boyfriend be dammed, he needed to kiss her, to feel her.
 

His hand slid up her back and he felt a slight tremble in her body at his touch. He cupped her cheek with his left hand and softly stroked her skin with his thumb, relaxing her and letting them both sink into the other. The sounds of the coffee shop around them faded away until it was just the two of them, alone in the moment that he wished could go on forever.
 

“Excuse me.” A woman carrying a tray of coffees and doughnuts, bumped into them, jostling them apart. Reid took a step back and Whitney’s hand flew to her mouth. She tentatively touched her lips and Reid fought the urge to kiss them again.
 

“We—”

“That—”

They spoke at the same time.
 

Whitney laughed nervously and pulled away, running a hand through her hair. “We probably shouldn’t have done that,” she said.
 

Reid’s stomach sank, an empty pit opening up. “Don’t say that.”
 

“Reid.”
 

He shook his head. “No.” But he knew what she meant. There was another man to think of, and it wasn’t right for him to be making a move on her when she was already involved. He’d crossed a line. One he would be willing to cross again.

“It’s not that I didn’t…” she drifted off and Reid willed her to finish the thought. “I just don’t want things to be weird with us,” she said instead. “Can we please pretend it didn’t happen?”
 

The urge to pull her close again and kiss her protests away was strong. Very strong. But the look in her eyes stopped him.
 

“Pretend what didn’t happen?” He forced a smile he didn’t feel and led her out to the car.
 

Patty - August 1992

Patty

August 1992

It hadn’t been a good night, but then again, Mondays never were. Something about the start of the week and men trying to be good husbands or fathers, or whatever it was they were trying to be when they weren’t at the Lusty Lady sticking bills in her g-string. Or, that was Patty’s theory anyway. Whatever it was, she never expected to do very well at the start of the week and she often didn’t even bother working the shift, but on that particular night, the idea of sitting alone in an empty apartment seemed even more dismal a prospect than dancing for an empty bar.
 

But the bar wasn’t totally empty. There were a few regulars scattered among the tables. The thing about regulars is they also had their favorite girls, so Patty knew there’d be no chance for her to get any extra private dances. And that was fine, because she didn’t care to dance for them anyway. She spun around the brass pole again, this time her eyes locked on her target.