Page 48 of Demon Rejected

11

Scarlett

I didn’t expect to sleep at all last night, but as soon as I showered and hit the pillow, I fell asleep. My body was exhausted. The alarm clock woke me up. I wanted five more minutes. It was one of those mornings when my mind was blank, like there was nothing... nothing.... Oh, damn. It was the day I moved my sweet ass to Vegas and became a stripper.

My phone started to vibrate.

Ziggy.

“Uhm," I answered. Man, he was old-fashioned to call and not text.

“Scarlett, you’re awake, good. I hope you feel good about the mission."

“Uhum." What should I say, that I was almost pissing myself and was anxious to see Matt? Happy and sad at the same time? The day I left Matt’s place, I promised myself never to see him again. Never to talk to him after he broke my heart. Never to see him and his beautiful warm eyes.

Never.

And still, today I was ready to risk my life to get him.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. I found myself in Las Vegas in a cute apartment, a way nicer place than I imagined that they would put me in. I had everything, and an interview at Grayson’s club. As I left the building, I jumped into my cute Ford Jeep. It was relatively new, non-flashy, and nice enough for a young beginner stripper.

The Club was private, in a massive property outside of town. It felt wrong. My wolf had her hackles up. Damn. The house was guarded. I could smell the guards as soon as I opened my window to ring at the door.

“Hi, it’s Autumn Summers for the interview."

The guard guy called in and confirmed my appointment. This place is like Fort Knox. Hm. If Matt is here, we’re fucked. All I could hope was that they kept the shifters elsewhere.

“You can drive up there and park on the right. A colleague of mine will wait for you."

“Thanks, bye-bye."

He smiled, and I drove up the driveway. Another guy wearing a suit and sporting an earpiece was waiting for me. Okay, they were careful. I didn’t have anything bad or suspicious on me. He stood next to my door, signalling me to let down the window.

“Hi, can I see your ID please?"

“Hm, yeah. One sec, please."

I wore a pair of jeans that were looking as if someone spray-painted them on me. My top was tight, pushing my boobs up. It was stripper day wear. As he asked me to give him ID, I got up, turned around, stuck my ass up in his nose, and leaned towards the backseat to pick up my purse. It was all intentional. I didn’t want to look as if I prepared too hard. As I retrieved my purse, I took out my wallet and offered him my driver’s license.

“I hate this pic. It makes me look blah."

I was twenty-one on the ID. We shifters fully mature before our first shift so that I could have been twenty-two, twenty-five, or thirty. I’ll still look the same. This is why some of us are fourteen and look twenty-five. My makeup was already done. I could smell the guy’s pheromones. He was human and one hundred percent into me. It was crazy.

“It’s okay. I hope you’ll get the job, and I’ll see you more often." He handed me the ID back and smiled. “You have to enter that door. Amy will show you towards the dressing room.”

I got out of the car and took my bag. Was it weird that he didn’t check my bag? Will this Amy check it? Amy was, to my surprise, an older lady in her sixties, but she looked stunning, like a movie star. Pure beauty with her long, thick, white hair and a pair of sparkly green eyes. She was wearing an elegant day dress in a deep shade of mauve that made her white hair shine

“Autumn, welcome.” Her voice was warm and friendly.

“Hi. Amy, right?" I asked with a silly smile spread all over my lips. I don’t think that acting is my strong suit.

We shook hands.

“Let me show you to the dressing room. You can change and freshen up before your dance. There are a few girls there already." She walked me down a marble hallway.

“This is an exclusive and elegant club. We only admit members and create a safe and fun environment for our dancers. Our members are top politicians, athletes, and famous personalities. If you choose to work with us, there’ll be a non-disclosure agreement to ensure all parties are protected."

“I’m used to high-caliber clients."