Vivid Lies (2 page)

My instincts take over and I click away. I direct the family as though they are puppets. I tell them where to stand, how to pose. It's the only time in my life when I feel like I have complete and utter control. My subjects do as I say, when I say.
 

I move the posse all around the beach for the shots I want. They make a sand castle. I direct the others, but I am directing Kane. He watches me as I move, ducking and tilting my body to get the right angle. His attention throws me off and puts me on edge.
 

"Just the brothers now," I say. I'm in the zone, clicking and moving like it's my second nature.
 

Kane and Jason stand in my view, smiling and perfect for the camera. Kane has dark hair, dark eyes, and a one of those smiles that makes you think you missed something. It's like he knows a secret that you want to know. My job is to concentrate on Jason, but my attention is on his brother.
 

Because his attention is on me.
 

It's nerve-wracking being the center of someone's attention. It's rare that I ever am and I'm not sure how to handle it. I try to ignore his stare and do my job. It's like Kane can see through the camera, through the plates of glass and mirrors that stand between us. It makes me feel naked, even through the invisible wall I put up between what is real and what I choose to see.
 

When the sun is right above us, casting a bright and harsh light, I'm done for the day with hundreds of photographs that I can hand over later.
 

"I think we are all done here," I tell the couple. "I will email you this week, Amanda."
 

"Thank you," she says, her eyes glistening as she pulls me in for another tight hug.
 

There's always a bride who is over-emotional about everything. The one who is so in love that she can't believe her perfect day is actually coming. Those women cherish every moment leading up their wedding. They never realize that it's the days after the vows that matter the most.
 

I start to pack up my bags when I feel him standing behind me.
 

"You want help taking those to your car?" he asks. He doesn't really wait for an answer, grabbing the heaviest of my bags and throwing it over his shoulder like it's full of air.
 

"Thank you," I say, brushing the hair off my forehead that fell lose from my hair tie.
 

Kane follows me to the parking lot and we stop outside my car. I try to discreetly wipe my sweaty palms on my thighs.

I unlock the trunk and he loads my bags like they weigh nothing at all.
 

"See ya around, London."

He flashes one last smirk as he backs away from me.
 

During the ride home, I wonder what he knows that the rest of the world doesn't.
 

Brooklyn

My hair is teased. My skin is layered in foundation and my eyes have that smoky effect. Glitter covers my body, and the five-inch heels I'm wearing make my ass look great.
 

Stephanie's is crowded tonight, and the tables are full of drooling men. With the amount of cleavage I have on display, I will make my half of the rent in only a few hours. Sex sells.
 

"You all set, Brooke?" Adam, the bouncer asks.
 

"Yep," I say, gritting my teeth at the use of the nickname I hate. He will never use enough energy on me to sound out an entire two syllables. Trust me, I've tried for the three weeks I've been working here.
 

I put on another coat of lip gloss and smile in the mirror. It's forced but only I know that. The customers will fall for it, grabbing at the cash in their wallets and forcing it into the booty shorts I am wearing.
 

I leave the dressing room and take the dark corridor to the floor with a confident walk. One foot in front of the other like it's any other day.
 

Every table is full as Candy spins around the pole on the stage. I stop for a second to admire her grace and strength. Men see a show and a naked body to fill the void in their fantasies. They don't realize the training and talent that goes into spinning your body around that pole. It's a skill that I haven't yet mastered, so they stick me on the floor or in the VIP rooms.
 

"Can you take tables one through five?" Erin asks as she slides some shots to another girl.
 

"On it," I holler before heading to my area. It's a full house tonight. The summer brings tourists and bachelor parties. I even spot a bachelorette party at table three. They never tip well but are usually the most fun.
 

I approach my first table just as Lizzy leaves from her table to dance. Dollar bills are hanging from her thong as she passes me.
 

"Thirsty boys?" I ask, pushing my shoulders back to display my perky chest.

I hear an assortment of drinks and put them in my phone as quickly as I can. The faster you get them their drinks, the faster they need more. The more drinks you get them, the drunker they become. The drunker they are, the more tips.
 

Economics 101.

I'm on the way back to the bar when I bump into someone.

"I'm sorry," I apologize quickly. I look up into a set of dark eyes.

His lips pull up into a secretive smile as he looks me up and down slowly. I shiver under his obvious examination. I can feel his gaze like a physical touch to my skin.
 

"We need to stop bumping into each other like this," he says, bending down to say it in my ear.
 

"Excuse me? Do I know you?"

"Kane."

I continue to stare blankly at him.

"Seriously? I live in your building and you almost ran into me in the hallway? The beach photoshoot?"

I laugh and smile up at his confused expression.
 

"That wasn't me. It was my sister. Twin sister," I tell him, watching surprise and understanding flash across his face. "I'm Brooklyn."

"There's two of you?" he asks.
 

"Yes and don't even think about it."

"Think about what?"

"I know that look. Every guy gets the same look when he finds out we are twins. It's that look that says you are obviously thinking about the both of us. At the same time."

"I wasn't thinking that," he says. "But I am now."

His grin is devilish and sexy as he looks down at me.
 

I roll my eyes and push past him, making it to the bar to put in my order. Looking over my shoulder, I see Kane take a table alone, still watching me. His heated stare makes me feel sexy. I feel powerful for once. Power is something that is usually taken from me.
 

"New girl! Order up!"

I grab the tray and weave through the crowd back to the tables. Dollar bills find my waist band and bra. I walk away richer and feeling confident. After spending so much of my life being torn down, I find my own way to boost my confidence. I find my own power.
 

I glance back at the guy from my building and see Tanya leaning over to get his order. She's almost falling out of her skimpy top but he doesn't seem to notice. He's staring at me again. My skin flushes but I rush off to serve more drunk and horny men. Rent needs to be paid.
 

Soon the pain in my feet and my sore back from carrying heavy trays makes it hard to concentrate on anything else. My bachelor party is sloshed, ready to be forced into cabs. The bouncers already escorted two outside after getting too grabby.
 

You don't touch the girls on the floor. You want to touch, you pay extra for that.
 

I pull my long hair off the back of my neck, hoping to cool down while I wait for another round of shots at the bar. When I turn around, Kane is gone and his table is empty. I shrug off the small feeling of disappointment. Thinking about him watching me made my shift slightly more interesting.
 

"Hey, New York!" Tanya yells after I serve my shots.
 

"It's Brooklyn," I tell her for the tenth time. I think she gets it wrong on purpose now.
 

"You have someone in VIP," she says.
 

"I'm on the floor tonight," I tell her, trying to hide the panic in my voice.
 

"He offered twice your rate and Jimmy said to do it."
 

I clench my jaw and head to the dressing room to freshen up. If Jimmy says to do something, you do it. If you refuse, you will lose your hours or stage time. Being the new girl, I can't afford to piss him off.
 

I walk slowly to the VIP rooms. I've only been back here a two other times since I started working here. You never know what to expect. My first was a group of girls that thought it would be fun to get a lap dance from a stripper. Jimmy thought that would be the best initiation for me. The last one was a rich, old guy. He watched. He paid. He left.

When I step inside the dim room, I lean against the closed door and wait for my eyes to adjust. It's dark with purple accent lighting in the ceiling and floor. I step up onto the small round stage, grabbing the pole in the center of the room and find my customer on the couch, waiting.
 

"Kane," I whisper. His arms are stretched across the back the leather couch, looking relaxed and comfortable.
 

"Brooklyn."

I lick my lips and step on the small button on the edge of the platform. The music fills the room and I spin around the pole so my back is to him. Having him watch me from across the room is one thing. Having him so close and all alone is different.
 

There's nowhere to hide. There is nothing in between us but thick air.
 

I use the pole as my only defense, using it for strength and distraction. I hide behind it, sliding down the pole and spreading my legs. Kane's eyes grow dark as he watches me spin around and use my body as the only weapon I possess.
 

"Come here," he says. His voice is low and gravelly.
 

I step down from the platform and stand between his spread legs. He leans forward but doesn't make a move to touch me. I'm buzzing with anticipation. Any other client and I would be praying they kept their hands off. But Kane is different and I don't know why.
 

Maybe because I know his name or because I think he invited me back here for reasons different than any other customer would. Maybe it's because when he looks at me, he's not just trying to see what is underneath the clothes. He’s trying to see what is underneath my skin.
 

I think that might be worse.
 

I unbutton the plaid top I have on. I was going for the young and innocent look. It usually pays well. Kane looks up at my face as I reveal the red lace bra underneath. I crawl onto his lap and he finally breaks eye contact.
 

He drinks in the exposed skin. He sighs and I feel the puff of breath on my neck. I roll my hips into him and feel a rumble in his chest. His arms are still on the back of the couch but his body is tense, no longer relaxed.
 

"Are you going to touch me?" I ask.
 

"No."

The tension is sparking in the air. There's a current of electricity between us that is impossible to ignore.
 

"Why not?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

His hands leave the couch and I brace myself, ready to feel them on my body. They don't though. He grips his knees, leaning closer to me.
 

"I want to touch to you, Brooklyn. But I won't pay for it."

His words are clear even though they are almost a whisper. I pretend the words don't sting and bend backward, arching my back and putting my body on display, hiding my face. I feel his breath roll over my exposed stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
 

I pull myself up and find myself staring into his face. I see the struggle there, trying to hold back. There's conflict swirling in those dark eyes. I see a challenge in making him snap.

"Then why bring me back here?" I ask, reaching back and unsnapping the bra. The fabric falls between us, forgotten.
 

"To get you alone. To see you dance and move for me."
 

"But no touching?" I tease, running my hands over his wide shoulders.
 

Kane licks his lips, and for a second I think he will break his control. He brings his face closer and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. It's faint but enough to bring back memories I've been fighting.
 

"If I touch you, I won't be able to stop," he whispers, voice vibrating with need. "What will happen then?"

His words give me chills. I can't tell if it's from excitement or danger. My blood rushes in my veins and my heart pounds hard in my chest. A knock sounds at the door, signaling the time.