Vice (18 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Kate smiled at the woman auditioning her for the chorus girl job, hoping it looked sincere. She handed her a copy of her headshot and resume, taking a moment to smooth out a wrinkled corner first.

“Do you dance?”

“I’m afraid not.”

She raised an eyebrow and then eyeballed her chest. “Comfortable with nudity?”

“Oh. Um, I was told this job involved no nudity, just singing.”

“Yeah, they told you wrong. All our girls are topless, but no hoo-hah. It’s expected.” The woman shrugged, no doubt used to seeing this reaction. “So, you willing to unleash the hounds?”

Shit. This was the fifth audition in the three days since she’d left Liam. And in all of them, the requirements had been the same: show us your tits. Sometimes she thought she lived in bloody Sodom and Gomorrah.

She remembered what Liam said about showgirl acts being demeaning to women. She certainly felt demeaned. One audition after another, and no producer was interested in her voice, just her cup size. They didn’t even care that she couldn’t dance, as long as her hooters were hanging out. Any talent beyond that was considered a bonus.

It was enough to make her seek out a nice, boring call center job somewhere, selling aluminum siding or steak knives.

Rock bottom. Rock bottom. This was just one small part of her journey. She would rise from the ashes like a phoenix.

If she could leave Liam standing there alone, ripping out her own heart in the process, she could get through a few embarrassing auditions.

“Look,” Kate said, eyeing the faded upholstery and trying to ignore the foul smell emanating from the kitchen. “You have a supper club in the middle of a vibrant city. Not every joint in Vegas needs to provide a strip tease. I have talent and drive. Maybe we could talk about trying a new act.” She smiled, willing her positive vibes all over the producer.

The older woman just shook her head and tossed the headshot back across the desk. “Sorry, sweetie. No tits, no dice. In case you hadn’t heard, sex sells.” She stood up and walked toward the audition room door. “There are plenty of girls in Vegas who are willing to take their clothes off. Some of them can even sing.”

As Kate left, she tried hard not to think of Liam’s offer to sing at Decadence. It seemed every thought led back to him. Everything she ate reminded her of the sexy breakfasts they’d shared in bed. Every breath she took recalled feeling his in her ear when they made love. Each look of indifference on another person’s face forced her to remember his, so full of passion and yearning.

She was beginning to think she hadn’t even glimpsed true rock bottom yet. Perhaps it was the difference between the ocean floor and the Marianas Trench.

What about Liam? Was he suffering without her? He’d said he loved her. As much as she wanted to believe it, did believe it, she couldn’t shake the feeling they were better off without each other.

Hadn’t she always been a loner? Her father’s addiction had lost her friends through the years, usually when he’d asked them for handouts. When her mom had taken her own life, Kate had been virtually alone in the world. As sad as her upbringing had been, she’d tried to rise above it, to be an independent woman.

Hiding away with Liam, she’d been on the verge of losing that independence. It had been so nice—no, so wonderful—having him cater to her. But under his roof, she’d become something less than herself. She couldn’t lose sight of that.

It was the only thing stopping her from racing back to Vice and burrowing herself into his embrace.

As soon as she walked out of the dingy club, the sun hit her square in the eye, making her squint. She put on a pair of shades and walked to the nearest bus stop.

And still she thought of him.

The hardest part of walking away had been realizing she never told him she loved him, too. And she did.

She knew it in the quiet moments, when the loneliness hung so heavily on her soul it felt like a tumor. She knew it at daybreak when his arms no longer wrapped around her, making her a willing prisoner to his voice, his touch, his very breath.

Unable to tolerate the lights of the Strip, she’d stayed away from it as much as possible. Luckily her auditions had been in out-of-the-way locations. Not that it mattered. Wherever she went, his image still haunted her. Every suit, every flash of navy blue silk, every man who bore the slightest resemblance gave her a lump in her throat. And every second bus stop she passed carried a poster advertising Vice. She couldn’t escape him. She didn’t want to.

She missed him. It was that simple. But for her sake, as well as his, she had to stay away. The need to stand on her own two feet kept her strong. The desire to see him vanquish his demons kept her on the straight and narrow.

He hadn’t called. As much as that hurt, it also gave her a measure of relief. A few syllables from his sensuous mouth and she’d weaken. Cold turkey was always best.

No one needed to know she went home each night and touched herself, trying to recapture some small wisp of their time together. Only then did she permit herself to remember how his stubble teased her inner thigh, and how hot and sweet his mouth tasted.

She stood at the bus stop and remembered how right it felt to love Liam’s fingers tangled in her hair. Lost in thought, she almost missed the man pacing a few meters away. Accustomed to making room for homeless people on the sidewalk, she automatically stepped back as he approached.

Only then did she recognize the auburn hair under his worn hat and that cocky gait.

“Katie-bug.” Her father grinned. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

Kate’s lip curled as if of its own volition. “Have you? It would be the first time.”

Louis kicked at a beer can next to the bus stop and watched the stale contents drip onto the sidewalk.

“You sent a loan shark to my home, Dad,” Kate said. “He beat me up. He punched me and kicked me and threatened to rape me. Did you know he’d do it?”

Louis’s face fell, no doubt noticing her faded bruises for the first time. Of course, he’d feel badly. Just not badly enough to do something about it. “Oh, shit. Hugo promised not to get rough. I’m so sorry, Katie.”

“You’re not sorry for anything,” she shouted, not caring if the people walking across the street could hear her. “You’re only sorry I didn’t give him the money!”

He looked around her but avoided her direct gaze. “Will you…give him the money?”

“I can’t fucking believe you!”

“Watch your language, miss.”

She refrained from laughing. Her father might have many sins, but he’d always been a stickler when it came to his daughter cussing. To him, women swearing ranked right up there with murder. “Oh, right, because my language is the real issue here.” She shook her head. “Have you been following me? Did you trail me today just to find out if I have the cash?”

“I’ve been watching your apartment here and there. You were gone for a while.”

“Yeah. I should have stayed away, too.”

He drew nearer, his face torn by urges he barely understood. “Katie, I never meant for this to happen. The gambling. Your mom. None of it.”

She reached for his hand, noticing how he flinched. It had probably been some time since someone touched him. “Will you let me get you help, Dad? Because I will take you to Gamblers Anonymous right now. I will do whatever it takes, but you have to want it.”

For a second, he looked tempted, or at least defeated. But then, with disappointing swiftness, he pulled his hand out of hers. “You don’t understand. No one does. I’m in too deep.”

“It’s never too late.”

“Katie, the only way you can help me now is by giving me the money. I can’t go to any meetings if I’m dead.” He stared at her, his gaze almost heartless as he eyed her pearls. “Maybe if you sold some things, like your choker. Your mom got that from her grandmother. I could get a good price for an antique necklace like that.”

Her last shred of hope for him died when he suggested pawning the only memento she had of her mother, his own wife. Had he forgotten her completely? If not, he’d shelved her memory, unable to deal with it. Unable to accept the part he’d played. For him, denial really was just a river in Egypt.

She offered him a sad smile, and did something she never thought she’d do. She reached behind her neck, unclasped the necklace, and handed it to him.

He snatched it out of her hands and thrust it into his pocket as if someone were watching. “You were always a good kid, Katie. I know you probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you I was proud of you, but I am. You won’t regret helping me. I just have to do this one thing and then I’ll get help. I promise.”

She might as well have been listening to a tape recording of him. “Dad, listen to me. We’re done. I never want to hear from you again. Ever. I hope you get help. I really do, but it can’t come from me anymore. You don’t have a daughter anymore, and I don’t have a father.”

Louis pulled the pearl necklace out of his pocket. For a moment, she thought he was going to give it back, but he shoved it back into his pocket. He rubbed his mouth, turned and walked down the street.

As he turned the corner, Kate whispered, “Goodbye, Dad.”

Hugo Vaughan had clearly been paid. Or so Kate assumed. After all, he’d never come back to collect. Whatever price her dad got for the choker, it must have fit the bill to cover his debts. She wasn’t sure her mom had ever had the pearls appraised, but she knew the necklace was old and in impeccable condition. She didn’t have to work for Antiques Roadshow to know it cost a mint.

It was probably the first time she’d wasted a thought on Vaughan since leaving Liam. In a way, she had almost expected the loan shark to show up at her door, demanding more cash. She just hadn’t cared. He could come if he wanted. Hell, he could stay for tea and biscuits.

It didn’t matter because every moment away from Liam seemed to ensconce her further down in the hole she kept calling rock bottom, a place she now hated with all her might. She worried about ever being able to claw her way out.

One bright spot was her new job at Percolate, a quaint coffee shop that catered to hipsters and hipster wannabes. She’d walked into the shop, talking a big talk about providing them with some much-needed musical entertainment. The place served great coffee but was far too serious. The manager had offered her a job as a clerk instead, saying she could sing after her shift serving up coffees for tips.

Granted, it wasn’t anywhere close to being her dream job, and it certainly paled in comparison to crooning love songs at Decadence, but for now it would have to do. She’d answered ads for every entertainment-related position in the city, but none had panned out. This wasn’t such a bad deal. The clerk job offered a bit of money and a whole lot of brain-numbing repetitive work, and at least she could keep her pipes warmed up with the hour of singing she did after the shift.

As she prepared for her shift, she noticed a newspaper lying on the break table. Taking a closer look, she almost gasped. Left open to the entertainment pages, the photo showed Liam surrounded by a bevy of beautiful women at Vice, each of them looking at him with adoration. She looked at the date on the paper and saw it was only one day old.

A stabbing pain assaulted her heart. “Well, you seem to have moved on.”

Someone crept up behind her. Her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of blond dreadlocks and piercings. Cynthia, her nineteen-year-old coworker, motioned toward the article. “Liam Doyle, huh? Fuck me. I would totally let that man shave my pussy.”

Kate turned to her, frowning. “Uh…”

Cynthia turned to her. “What? You’ve never let a man shave you before? It’s super-hot.”

Kate bit her lip, remembering how much Liam loved playing down there. She decided to keep that juicy memory to herself. “Too much information, that’s all.”

Cynthia picked up the paper. “Hey, did you hear that guy just…”

“Actually, I’d rather not hear about Liam Doyle. Please.” She tried not to look like she was a simpleton.

The girl shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Feeling lower than ever, Kate adjusted her T-shirt, pasted on a smile and took her station at the counter. Luckily the shop was dead and she didn’t have to face anyone right now. She grabbed a wet cloth and proceeded to clean, mentally reviewing her set list of songs for the end of her shift.

The idea of Liam cavorting with socialites made her stomach lurch. Kate took deep breaths and tried to concentrate on her work, sorting prepackaged bags of fair-trade brew. Someone had mixed up the decaf with the strong Columbian and she set about restoring order to the display. The writing on the coffee bags began to blur from her tears. She blinked them away.

You were a fool to think you could be part of his world.

“Hey.”

Kate jumped at the soft voice next to her and turned. Kate’s eyes widened when she saw Lisa at the counter, Georgie and Sarah at her side. Georgie ran around the counter and hugged her, almost making her burst into tears again, but she held it back so as not to startle the poor kid.

Georgie sniffed her work shirt and said, “Auntie Kate, you smell like Grandma after she comes back from bingo.”

Kate let out a laugh, even as Lisa scolded him for the comparison. “You’re right, George.” Cynthia always smoked out back on her breaks but the smell managed to cling to Kate’s clothes anyway.

Lisa turned to her daughter and handed her some change. “Sarah, take your brother and go get a chocolate bar next door.”

The girl grabbed her little brother by his collar and hurried out.

“So,” said Lisa, sighing.

“So.”

“I, um, thought I saw you from outside. Thought I’d grab a coffee.”

Kate nodded and poured Lisa her usual black brew. She handed it over. “How are you?”

Lisa took the cup and rummaged in her pocket for change, letting out a puff of air. “We’re okay. Day by day, right?” She handed over some change.

“Yup.” She ground the toe of her Keds into the floor.

Lisa put down the cup. “Look. Rod said something about you being attacked. Is it true?”

She nodded, not wanting to say more.