You and I Alone

by Melissa Toppen

  Chapter Sixteen

  “So he lives in Chicago?” I question, looking over the address that Lo scribbled down on the back of a business card after breaking into Cora's office. Okay, so she didn't technically break in, but it's a known rule that the office is for clientele and management only.

  “Everything I found had that address. That has to be it.” She says, grabbing her lip gloss from her vanity and slathering it across her lips. “I don't understand why you just don't go. I mean, the man bought you an amazing dress and tickets to the hottest new dance company's opening night. I know you girl and I know that deep down you are dying to go.”

  “I am dying to go. But not with him. We barely know each other. Doesn't it seem a bit strange to you that he got me such a personal birthday gift?” I ask.

  “No. It means he actually thought it through. Which if you ask me, is really sweet.” She smiles widely at me and bats her eyelashes. “When is it again?”

  “The 29th. Two weeks from tomorrow. But it doesn't matter because I am not going.” I say, crossing my arms.

  “Fine. Suit yourself. Wonder if he is interested in taking a replacement date.” She puckers her lips at her reflection in the mirror.

  “Shut up.” I laugh, shaking my head at my ridiculous friend.

  “I don't understand why you can't just leave it here for him.” She says, pinning her eyes directly on me.

  “Because I am afraid he won't be here between now and then and honestly, I am worried that Cora will snoop and lord knows I do not need her on my ass right now.” I say, sighing loudly.

  “And sending it to one of the other clubs?” She asks.

  “Again, I have no idea where he will be and when. I was hoping that if we could track down a home address, it would ensure that he receives it before that night.”

  “Okay, well this is all we've got.” She says, holding up the business card between her fingers.

  “So should I just mail it there?” I ask.

  “Hell no. Let's take it over there.” She smiles, turning to face me. “Tell me you aren’t even a little bit curious.” Her smile pulls up even further.

  “You know I am.” I sigh, shaking my head at her. “But that still doesn't mean it's a good idea.” I tack on, laughing when she rolls her eyes at me.

  “Since when does it have to be a good idea for it to be fun?” She wiggles her eyebrows up and down at me.

  “You're ridiculous.” I laugh again. “I am not going over there. End of discussion.” I say, crossing the room and flopping down onto the small couch shoved in the corner of her room.

  “Me? You're the one acting like a love sick teenager that's scared to even talk to the boy she likes.” She swivels her chair to face me.

  “I am not scared. I simply know when it's better to walk away and trust me, walking away is the only thing anyone should ever do when it comes to that man.” I sigh.

  “After you fuck him of course.”

  “Well yes, only after that.” We both burst into laughter but then are immediately silenced when a knock sounds against her dressing room door.

  Without waiting for a response, Josh peeks his head inside, an annoyed expression planted firmly across his face. “If you two are about done in here, I am fairly certain you have jobs to do.” He says, his eyes dancing from Lo to me and then back to Lo.

  “Don't get your panties in a twist boss man.” Lo laughs. “We are coming now.” She says, standing from her vanity and giving Josh a little hand motion that tells him to scram. Rolling his eyes and sighing loudly, he simply shakes his head and pulls the door closed again.

  “That man is way more uptight since you stopped giving it to him.” She squeals when I grab the closest thing I can find, which just happens to be a flip flop on the floor, and wing it at her head. “Hey now.” She laughs, batting it out of the air. “I'm just sayin.”

  “Shut it Lo.” I warn, laughter vibrating through my voice. Peeling myself off of the lumpy couch, I quickly slip into my four inch black heels and make my way across the room, grabbing the door when Lo holds it open for me.

  “Kill it tonight kitten.” She smiles wickedly at me and then turns the opposite direction down the hall, heading towards the back entrance to the bar while I make my way to the back of the stage.

  I straighten my black lace boy shorts and adjust my bra, trying to make sure that I am all situated before my final dance of the night. Since I have been working at the studio, I have been inspired to ramp up my routines a bit at the club. I find that the more I incorporate the dancing I love, the more I love doing it here as well.

  “Busy tonight.” Kat, a fiery red head I have only worked with a handful of times in the past, says as she exits the stage.

  “Awesome.” I sigh, turning my attention forward. My last dance was over two hours ago and at that time, business was not much busier than normal. Climbing the stairs that lead to the stage, I stand to the side of the back curtain and wait for the third beat of “Chandelier” by Sia to come through the speakers before stepping out onto the stage.

  Like most dances, I pay very little attention to the audience in front of me as I cross the stage. Taking slow calculated steps to the beat of the music, I grab the pole just as the climactic chorus of the song bounces off the walls around me.

  Gripping one hand above the other, I climb up the pole about two feet from the top and lock my legs around the cool metal. Leaning back, I reach my arms above my head and lock my hands around the pole just under my head.

  This is a new song to my rotation and I have gone over the routine countless times in my head but I never know how it's really going to work until I get out here and just do it. Most dancers just come out and rub all over themselves while they slink around the stage. Some are very talented using the pole. But very few actually plan routines like I do.

  I allow my body to slide down the pole a few inches before releasing my hands and locking my legs in a way that allows me to spin upside down on the pole a few times before re-clasping my hands and flipping my body down the pole, only to catch myself upright by locking my legs again. My heart beats rapidly in my chest as I continue to work the pole, flipping myself upside down again and then eventually sliding far enough down that I am able to bend backwards and place my hands on the floor before kicking off the pole and walking over into a standing position.

  I try my damnedest not to smile at what I was just able to do as I stalk to the end of the stage and drop to my knees, allowing my hands to skirt down my bare sides before hitching my fingers in the band of my boy shirt underwear, pulling them out teasingly and then releasing them again.

  It's only then that I look out over the crowd, my movements faltering slightly as I take in the amount of eyes on me. Kat was right. The club is unusually busy at this late hour, as nearly every seat in the house is currently occupied by a member and from what I can tell, I have captured the attention of all of them. Specifically, an older gentleman that I don't recognize, who is standing just to the left of the stage, reaching out to trail his finger along my ankle when I go into a straddle.

  Twisting my head towards him, I give him a wicked smile and then tisk my finger back and forth. The action is playful and he seems to take it as such but before I even have time to react, Malcolm is taking the man by his shoulders and leading him out of the main room. While it is against policy to touch the dancers, I have never seen them take a small touch so seriously. I certainly didn't think a whole lot of it.

  I try not to let the incident distract me and finish off my dance with a split kick, wishing that I could spin while doing so but not being able to complete such a move in high heels. Holding my ankle above my head, I wait until the room goes black before letting it drop, catching sight of a man that looks a good deal like Bentley just as he turns away from the stage.

  Heart hammering, I quickly exit the stage without even a glance at the next dancer going on. I quickly make my way down the back hallway towards the bar entrance, eager to fin
d out if it really was Bentley in the crowd or just my mind playing tricks on me. Pushing my way through the door, I spot Josh almost immediately re-entering the club from the front exit. Glancing around, I notice that the man from earlier is no where to be found. Being momentarily distracted by that fact, I quickly close the distance between us.

  “What was that all about?” I ask, gesturing to the stage, watching his dark eyes dance in understanding.

  “It's against policy to touch the dancers. Mr. Franks violated that policy and as such, his membership has been revoked and he was escorted out.” He says, turning his back to me to scribble something down on a piece of paper on the ledge in front of him.

  I am about to ask why in the hell they would kick him out over something so ridiculous when I immediately freeze. His voice comes from behind me and washes over me like a tidal wave, an instant prickle covering every inch of my flesh.

  “Did you get Mr. Franks squared away?” He asks, stepping directly past me and addressing Josh without so much as a look in my direction.

  “Yes sir. I was just making a note for Cora so that she can take care of the paperwork in the morning.” He says, turning to face Bentley.

  “Perfect. Make sure to thank Malcolm for acting so quickly.” He says, his professional demeanor seeming weirdly out of place even though he is always professional when talking to his employees. Well, with the exception of me anyways.

  “I am heading out. Be sure to have Cora contact me directly if she has any questions.” He continues, throwing a nod in Josh's direction before turning. His shoulder brushes mine just as he passes me and his eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, dancing off mine in a playful wink as he walks away.

  Spinning to watch him, I am not sure if I feel amused, pissed, or hurt by the fact that he didn't talk to me. But then again, that's what I asked of him. Trying not to show my frustration, I turn back to find Josh studying me intently.

  “What?” I ask, trying to swallow my defensive tone.

  “Nothing.” He says, shaking his head at me. Clearly wanting to say something but choosing to keep his mouth shut instead. I am about to push the matter but just as I open my mouth to speak, Malcolm re-enters the club from the same door Josh had come through just moments before. He immediately approaches Josh to discuss whatever it was that just happened with poor Mr. Franks.

  Rolling my eyes, I quickly turn and head out of the bar and backstage towards my dressing room, thankful that my shift is coming to an end. I cross paths with Lo just as I approach my door. Reaching out and grabbing my forearm, she quickly pulls me inside the room and shuts the door.

  “What the....” I start, surprised by her actions.

  “He fucking kicked him out.” She says, disbelief and astonishment lighting up her perfect features.

  “What?” I ask, still too confused by everything that just happened to follow her.

  “Bentley. He totally kicked that member out because he touched your leg!” She exclaims, her words coming out breathless. “I saw the whole thing. Holy shit girl. That man is intense.” She says, shaking her head as she takes a step back and plops down in the chair in front of my vanity.

  “Wait. Bentley is the one who kicked him out?” I ask, completely floored. “But why?” I ask, turning slightly to face her straight on.

  “I don't know but I overheard him talking to Josh. Apparently the moment he touched you, he sent Malcolm over to get him and then made Josh and Malcolm escort him out. It all happened so quickly I wasn't really sure what was going on.”

  “That's absurd.” I practically scream across the room at her. “He barely touched my ankle.” I laugh at how ridiculous it sounds.

  “Bentley was pissed though. I only know of one other member being kicked out before and that's because he made a move on a dancer during a private dance and it turned ugly pretty quickly. I have never heard of any other incidents, let alone something so small.” She shakes her head at me.

  “This is crazy.” I say, crossing the room and flopping down on the couch. “You don't think this has anything to do with....”

  “The fact that you two slept together. Absolutely I do.” She says, cutting me off. “If you could have heard the way he talked to Josh, you would have thought that poor man they kicked out had tried to fuck you up there or something. It was actually pretty fucking hot.” Her concern quickly melts away as a smile pulls up her mouth.

  “Not cool Lo.” I shake my head at her. “It's bad enough that he owns the place. Now I have to deal with him interfering with my dances? Throwing people out because they touch my leg? Certainly not.” I say, realizing how stupid it sounds saying it out loud. “That's a jealous act and men like Bentley Reed don't get jealous over girls like me.”

  “Girls like you?” She questions, cocking her head to the side. “Think what you want girl but I am telling you, that man is under your spell and what's worse, you don't even see it.” She says, her gaze turning serious.

  I won't deny the rush that floods through my veins at the thought of Bentley being bothered by another man touching me. While it baffles me, it also sends a thrill rushing through my blood stream. To think that I would hold any type of power over a man like him is ridiculous and yet, I am quickly learning that Bentley Reed can surprise me in more ways than one.

  “All the more reason why I need to return the ticket and the dress as soon as possible.” I say, looking from Lo to the box sitting next to my door and then back to Lo.

  “Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, aren't you even a little curious as to what would happen?” She asks, voicing the very thing that had ran through my head on constant repeat while I tossed and turned in bed last night.

  “No. I need to return the items and then get the hell away from here for a few days.” I say, pushing myself into a stand and crossing the room to retrieve my jeans from the floor. Visiting Andrea in Vermont could not have come at a better time. A few days away will be just what I need to clear my head.

  “Okay. If you're sure.” She says, pouting out her lower lip.

  “Don't give me that look. Now are you coming with me or not?” I ask, throwing on my fitted t-shirt and retrieving my shoes from the corner.

  “Why not just give it to him now?” She asks, raising her eyebrows at me.

  “Because he left.” I say, sighing loudly. “Now. Are you coming?” I ask again, turning to face her head on.

  “Um. Duh.” She laughs, pushing herself out of her chair and quickly exiting my room to go get changed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “This can't be it.” I sigh, looking at the GPS on my phone and then back up to the old style townhouse sitting to my right.

  “5215. See.” Lo says, pointing to the house numbers displayed just above the front entrance. I look at the number and then back down at my phone, still convinced that somehow there has been a mistake.

  “This just doesn't seem like a place Bentley would live.” I say, taking in the worn down strip of town homes that line the street just on the edge of the city. It's not that there is anything wrong with the place, it seems pretty nice for the most part. It just doesn't seem like a place a man like Bentley Reed would inhabit.

  “Well this is the address. Are you coming?” She asks, pushing open the passenger side door of my car, an awful squeak echoing through the night air as she does. Grabbing the box from the back seat, she pushes the door closed with her hip and then waits for me to join her on the sidewalk.

  “What if he's here? If he really does own this place, and we know he's in Chicago....” I trail off, following her hesitantly up the five step stone walkway to the dark wood front door that has a large window covered by some type of curtain, eliminating the ability to see inside.

  “That's why I am here. Just tell him you can't go, give him the package and then we will leave.” I don't respond to her words but I am having a hard time believing it would be that easy. “Or we could just leave it here instead.” She suggests, gesturing to the top
step we are currently standing on.

  “It's far too expensive to just leave out here. It would probably be stolen.” I say, turning to face her, mentally kicking myself for not thinking this all the way through.

  “Then it's settled.” She says, reaching up and tapping lightly on the front door before I have a chance to stop her.

  “Lo.” I hiss. “It's three o'clock in the morning. What if someone other than Bentley lives here?”

  “And.” She says, like three o'clock is a perfectly acceptable time to knock on someone's door. Seconds tick by at a snails pace and yet, we continue to stand outside of the home in darkness. Lo knocks again, this time even harder and still, nothing.

  “Okay, well this was stupid.” I say, turning around, fully prepared to walk away and figure out another avenue of returning the items. I make it about half way down the stone staircase when the porch light kicks on shrouding us in a dim yellow light. My breath catches in my throat as I turn back just in time to see the curtain covering the window in the door move slightly.

  Before I have a chance to really react, the door creaks open and a woman, maybe in her late fifties, appears in the doorway, wrapped in a cream colored robe. Her sandy blonde hair hangs to her shoulders and shows signs that she was most definitely in bed. Of course she was in bed. Who in the hell waits up expecting house guests in the middle of the night?

  “Can I help you?” She asks, looking to Lo and then to me and then back to Lo.

  “We are so sorry to bother you so late.” Lo speaks, her voice even and friendly. Thank goodness she is with me. Lord knows I would be a blabbering mess trying to explain the situation to the lady. “We are looking for Bentley Reed. Does he live here?” She asks.