Page 20 of For Your Eyes Only
It’s intriguing. It makes me want to ask her more questions, but the lights go down. It’s time for the floor show.
The waitresses in their safari hats place flutes of expensive champagne in front of each of us, and we turn our attention to the dancer strutting onto the stage in the spotlight. “My Type” by Saweetie blasts through the room, and Shula does an aggressive, grinding number, arching her back like a snake and getting in all the ravenous men’s faces.
She struts proudly, her ponytails swinging as her tits bounce, and I avert my eyes to the neon-lit stem of my champagne flute. It’s not a long song, and I lift the glass, taking a lingering drink.
When I lower it, I feel a pair of eyes on me. Gia is watching me curiously, and I give her a tight smile. Her expression is still uncertain, and I’m glad when the song ends and the lights rise again.
The audience howls and throws money, but the electricity of last night is missing—at least for me.
“You didn’t like the show?” Gia leans closer, speaking louder.
“I’m not really a fan of strippers.”
Her slim brows rise. “Then why are you here?”
Great question. “I just stopped in to check on things, security.” Sliding out of the booth, I stand, motioning to Franco. “Have another round on me. I’m headed home.”
“You sure?” Franco has his arm around Bianca, but Gia is sitting alone, her pretty dark eyes following me.
“I’ll catch up with you later. Nice to meet you, ladies. Good luck with everything.”
I don’t suggest seeing them again, even as my eyes linger a bit too long on Gia’s. She smiles, and I almost change my mind.
CHAPTER6
GIA
“He’s handsome.” I’m lying on my back on the bed, holding a small pillow in my hands and thinking about the elegant man we met at the club tonight.
“I told you!” Bianca has been bursting to sayI told you soall night—when she wasn’t flirting with Franco.
He was not what I expected. I thought “the boss” would be an overweight, sweaty, mafia type. One of those men with fat hands and hairy fingers pinched tight with gold rings.
Trip Alexander is sophisticated with wavy, dark hair that curls around his ears and an attractive scruff on his square jaw. His fingers are long and slim. The kind you’d want to slide along your cheek, into your hair, up your thighs, into your…
My pussy clenches, and I toss my pillow at my smirking friend. “Don’t be a brat. He needs a haircut, but I like it.”
She catches the pillow and tosses it back. “He needs some polish on his knob from the looks of things.”
Rolling my eyes as I turn onto my stomach, I rest my face on my hand. “What kind of a name is Trip, anyway?”
“Rich, white nonsense. He’s the third William in his family.”
“How in the world do you know that?”
“I know things.” She’s in a lace teddy with a sheer robe on her shoulders, and she’s getting ready for her nightly sessions.
Tonight, I’m watching her, and tomorrow, Franco’s going to launch my site. He said I could cut back my performances at the club as soon as I’m up and running, provided I make enough to cover room and board.
Bianca thinks I’ll make that in a day, but I’m not sure with the cost of real estate in West Palm.
“He’d never be interested in someone like me.” Pushing off the bed, I go to the desk where a laptop is waiting.
“You’re exactly what he’s looking for. In fact, Franco said that’s why he was at the club tonight. Apparently, he never goes to the Rhino.” She straightens the blankets on the bed, preparing her camera and equipment. “He was looking for you.”
“He was looking for her.”
“Which is you. Now shut up, I’m starting.”