Felicity Stripped Bare

by Vanessa Jaye

  “Moonwalk!” There was hardly any room to, but they tried with hilarious results.

  “The Watusi!”

  “Raise The Roof!”

  They had limbo’d right into a tango, when one of the strippers popped her head around the door. “Fil, you’re up next sweetie.”

  At which point Felicity did the running man straight into the bathroom and did the funky chicken.

  But without the funky.

  ***

  The music came on, strobe lights pulsing through the darkness and then, “Gentlemen, we have a very special treat for you tonight. Please welcome, new to our Uptown stage…Miss Candeee Kane.”

  She didn’t look at the audience, just kept her focus on making it up the stairs. Funny how small the stage seemed when you weren’t actually standing on it. Now she felt like she was standing in the middle of Carnegie Hall about to play the kazoo.

  Felicity closed her eyes and took a deep breath, thankful for the half glass of wine Cheryl had given her to drink. She let the music, along with the alcohol, course through her veins and started to move to the rhythm, doing a little shimmy before strutting across the stage.

  “You go, girl!”

  “Whoo-hoo! Shake it, baby!”

  That chorus of familiar voices made her brave a closer look at the front row. A lump leapt up in her throat at the sight of several tables filled with other dancers, and she swallowed the ball of emotion.

  She knew just who to thank for masterminding this display of solidarity, sitting smack dab front row center, the loudest of the rowdy group—Cheryl.

  Felicity broke into a grin and the shadowy male shapes beyond the lights receded from her consciousness. With her confidence upped a notch, she danced on to the whooped up appreciation of her friends. Her friends.

  Felicity’s grin widened and she spun round to face the mirror, watching herself smoothly untie the belt before she turned again and flashed them. A wave of female catcalls swelled up. Then with a saucy wink, she trailed the coat off her arms and lassoed it off to the side.

  A new song came on. The sultry beat and eroticism of the singer’s husky voice filling her mind with writhing imagery. And that’s when she forgot about her audience.

  Forgot about everything except…Daniel.

  She ran her hands through her hair, letting it cascade through her fingers. She felt free, sexy, powerful. His.

  Slowly, she slid her hands up her body. Imagining they were his hands. She reached for the dance pole and undulated downward, her body demonstrating its yearning. She wanted him. Right there. The hard smooth metal felt hot under her palms. She wanted him. Right now. And as the lights blazed down on her, she licked at her parched lips. Almost tasting him; wanting to in the worst way.

  No one heard her moan under the incessant beat. No one felt the energy coursing through her as she dipped and twisted, strutted and posed. Then as she slowly straightened, she caught her reflection in the mirror along the back wall. The woman who faced her was almost unrecognizable.

  In the shiny white bra and shorts she looked begging hot. Her hair was in a wild tangle, her skin flushed and eyes gleaming. She placed a hand on her belly, slowing her movements as the song wound down…and her fantasy faded away.

  The music changed again. Felicity turned to face her audience. Her mouth paralyzed into a half-smile as she reached for her bra straps and slowly drew them down her arms.

  Up until now she’d blocked out the rest of the room. Tony serving drinks to regulars at the bar, a group of business men seated off to the left, and the two tables of frat boys in their team bombers.

  Her gaze searched out Cheryl’s, and her friend gave her a thumbs up, but Cheryl’s face was blank. She knew.

  Felicity’s gaze skidded away as she reached for the bra’s closing.

  ***

  “Here you go, honey; your favorite.”

  Daniel accepted the large slice of cheesecake from his mother. It almost salvaged the last two hours from being a total write-off. He cast a quick glance at his watch, deciding that he’d give this latest attempt at “quality family time” another forty-five minutes of his life.

  Then some instinct caused him to glance across the table, and he found Deirdra’s deep blue eyes studying him as they had done frequently throughout dinner. Was she supposed to be an extra buffer for the evening? She gave him a slow smile and he experienced a twinge of alarm. Or was his mother meddling in his love life? Both she and Deirdra should know better.

  When it came to his personal life, he made the choices on who he wanted to be with, and when it ended. Or at least he had until Felicity. Dark hot hunger twisted in his gut.

  “Darling, you’re not eating,” his mother prodded.

  “I was just thinking about—” touching her, kissing her, losing her… He stabbed his fork into creamy cake, “—a few loose ends that need tying up.”

  “Not the Maple deal?” his father demanded.

  Daniel ate a forkful of dessert, buying time to keep his cool. Thirty minutes more and he was out of here. He could keep the peace till then. “No, not the Maple deal. Besides, you were the one who took the last meeting with him. Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  His father grimaced, and Daniel couldn’t stop his own grin. He had a pretty good idea what the reason was for his dad’s expression. “Where did he drag you to this time? No wait, let me guess.” He leaned both elbows on the table and thought about it.

  “The last place Fred held a lunchtime meeting was at some hole in the wall noodle shop down in Little Korea. It was the type of place that kept you checking your bowl, in case a health ‘n’ safety violation crawled out of it. Or in.”

  His mother and Deirdra let loose a chorus of “ewws”.

  His father made a face, but there was a trace of humor in his voice. “At least he took you someplace where they had adequately dressed employees.”

  “Oh? And where did Fred take you, sweetheart?” his mother asked with a twinkle in her eye.

  “The type of place I haven’t been to since my bachelor party.”

  “Really? I thought you said the boys took you to a casino.”

  His dad busied himself with a large swallow of wine under his mother’s sharpened stare and Daniel exchanged amused glances with Deirdra. For the first time in hours he was enjoying himself. She leaned a bit closer, touching him lightly on the arm.

  “So what had you distracted, if it wasn’t the Maple deal?” Deirdra asked.

  “One of the projects me and Rob have on the books,” he said, his good mood slipping away.

  Silence met his statement.

  A scowl had settled on his dad’s face and Daniel braced himself as the old man’s mouth opened to blast—

  “Ow! Dammit, Elle!” Michael Mackenzie jerked in his seat, then frowned at his wife as he reached under the table to rub at something out of view.

  “Watch where you place your foot, dear, it may land in your mouth.” She patted his hand.

  “One of your clients being difficult, sweetheart?” Daniel’s mom addressed him.

  “Not a client, a tenant,” he answered reluctantly.

  “A tenant?” The ladies spoke in unison once again.

  Daniel rubbed one brow, a headache developing. “I purchased a property last spring with the intentions of doing some upgrades then flipping it. It’s a big old Edwardian, the brickwork reminded me of Grandma’s house.”

  Elle Mackenzie smiled mistily. “I loved that house.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Something caught in his throat; he cleared it. “Anyway, the plans were okayed with the city and we had a hole in the scheduling to fill.” He shrugged. “I have a crew to keep busy earning a living, so I sent out the evictions, giving the tenants more than enough time to move.” He stopped again on a wisp of guilt.

  “And one of the tenants doesn’t want to leave?”

  Daniel twisted his mouth into humorless smile. “That’s putting it mildly. She’s downright determined to put me
through hell on this.” He found some of his melancholy dissolving under a returning wave of anger.

  “Either Rob or myself or both of us, have wasted hours down at City Hall counter-filing against all her trumped up claims.” He picked up his fork and jabbed it in the air. “You know she didn’t bother turning up for a single hearing?”

  “Oh, people like that disgust me.” Elle Mackenzie made an impatient sound as she scooped up a small morsel of cake. “Just stirring up trouble for trouble’s sake.”

  That’s exactly what Felicity had been doing. Daniel’s ire burned brighter. “And the killer was when she petitioned for the house to be listed on the city’s Inventory of Heritage Properties.”

  His mother frowned. “Heritage Properties?”

  “It’s run by Preservation Services, they monitor redevelopment and renovation activities. Making any kind of changes to a property that affects the historical character is all but impossible once it lands on that list,” he ground out.

  “If she’d been successful, I’d be royally screwed right now. Thank God the other tenants didn’t join Felicity in her little campaign.”

  “Felicity?” Elle’s fork paused mid-air.

  “My tenant.”

  “Oh.”

  “She sounds like a vindictive bitch,” Deirdra said.

  “Hey, don’t call her that!” he snapped. “You don’t know her. She’s just angry about losing her home.” And being betrayed by him.

  Deirdra pulled back. “No need to take my head off, Daniel. People get evicted every day. What makes her so special?”

  Everything.

  “Speak to Nat Turner at the firm; he’s the expert on property management and development.”

  “No!” his mother interrupted, a little pale and wide eyed, as Daniel also absorbed the shock of his father’s offer to help.

  She reached for her wine. “I really don’t think that’s necessary, dear,” she said weakly. Leave it to his mom to point out Michael Mackenzie’s overkill tendencies.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway. As of this morning the Sheriff’s Notice was delivered. Felicity Cameron has two weeks to move out.” Then he’d never see her again. The words filled his head with their too sharp echo, and he felt a sudden yawning darkness spread through him.

  “Well that’s all right then,” said his father.

  “Good riddance,” Deirdra agreed.

  “Oh dear.” His mother drained her wineglass.

  Daniel did likewise.

  Chapter Twelve

  After a forty-five minute shower, which left her feeling cleaner on the outside at least, Felicity went out to the deck. It was a new ritual she’d established to help her feel a little cleaner on the inside, also. The fresh night air was an antidote to the phantom scent of stale tobacco that seemed to cling to her no matter how thoroughly she bathed. And the view of the rooftops helped to wipe from her mind all thoughts of small curtained booths where “private dances” took place. She gripped the mug of herbal tea harder and leaned back in the rickety lounger, legs pulled up tight and hidden under her old thick terrycloth robe.

  Hunching her shoulders, she inhaled the fragrant steam wafting from the cup before she took a sip. Yet despite the robe, the tea, the late summer night, she shivered. Felicity clenched her teeth together, mentally ticking off the calendar she kept in her head. By the end of this week she’d have enough for a first and last months’ security deposit. By the middle of next week, moving costs.

  Then she’d give it another three months tops, just to get a small nest egg going before she quit and found a straight job. Felicity thought about the little décor shop near the club. She wouldn’t mind working somewhere like that, and maybe Lise would be a reference for her. Guilt zinged her—she’d blown off the last couple tutoring sessions, and hadn’t returned Lise’s phone calls. But just the thought of reading anymore fairy-tale crap pissed her off. Life was not a fairy tale. It was a Tarrantino film.

  As she studied the star-studded darkness above—forgetting about guilty consciences, dingy cubicles and staring eyes—her fragile peace was interrupted by the buzzer. She tried to ignore it, but the person wouldn’t let up.

  Felicity hauled herself out of the lounger and stepped over the classified section she’d skimmed through earlier, then opened the creaky screen door Daniel had never gotten ’round to fixing. Her mouth twisted. Gee, I wonder why?

  The buzzing stopped when she was almost at the apartment door. Great. Why didn’t they think of that five minutes ago? She turned, heading back out to the deck, when the phone starting ringing. What the hell? She put her mug down on the coffee table and snatched up the receiver. “Yes?”

  “Why don’t you answer your buzzer?”

  Her heart slammed to a stop in her chest as she white-knuckled the handset. “What do you want?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Actually, no, we don’t. I’m about to go to bed.”

  A heavy pause met her words, and then he asked in a low growl, “Alone?”

  The possessive note hit her deep in the belly and she pressed a fist there to suppress the roll of sensation. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Let me in.”

  “No.”

  He hung up and she hurried over to the window, peering through the blinds in the hopes of catching one final glimpse of him. Her senses were so tuned to detect the slightest movement below or the faintest sound of a car starting, that the metallic tumble of the door’s lock didn’t register. And by the time it did, Daniel was calmly shutting the door behind him.

  “Looking for someone?”

  Felicity released the blinds with a snap, a combination of nerves and nausea roiling through her gut. “This is still my apartment, Daniel. I know my rights now, so you can just get your illegally entering ass out of here.” She folded her arms across her chest to show she meant business.

  Daniel mirrored her, his whole attitude saying: Make me.

  What his movements made her do, was commit to memory the sight of his broad chest and shoulders encased in a chocolate brown suit and snowy white shirt, and the implied strength of his arms that strained the expensive material.

  Daniel was checking her out, too. His gaze lingering on her face, her bare feet, then back up to her chest where the neck of her robe gaped open.

  “Could you make this quick and just leave?” She adjusted her robe and retied the belt. “Why are you here?”

  He pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket. “Here.”

  Her irritation warred with a healthy dose of panic and any sense of caution she felt at being alone with him fled. “I already got the eviction notice. What’s this now?” She stalked up to him and plucked the paper out of his hands, her own shook with anxiety as she opened the sheet.

  Felicity sucked in a breath on the stabbing hurt that came as she viewed the neat list of addresses, names and phone numbers. “Well,” she croaked out faintly, but couldn’t raise her watery gaze from the printout. “Can’t wait to get rid of me, huh?”

  “Just the opposite,” he said quietly.

  She waved the paper at him in lieu of words, all tears dried now.

  “You misunderstand. I know the rental market’s tight, I just wanted to help. That’s a list of some buildings held by a few of the firm’s clients. I’ve vetted them personally, you just have to call to set up a time to view the units available.”

  “Well thanks for all your help.” Felicity let the sarcasm drip from her voice as she carefully folded the list and slid it into her pocket. “And thanks for dropping by.” She stepped towards the door, but he grabbed her arm.

  “Wait.”

  She looked up at him, wanting to hate him, but only feeling the opposite as her body drank in the taste of his touch.

  “Wait,” he repeated softly. “That’s not all. I didn’t just want to help you. I didn’t want to let you go. At least this way I’d know where to find you.”

  She shut her eyes and swallowed at t
he hope lodged in her throat, choking off her breath. “Don’t,” she pleaded.

  “Why? What do I have to lose now?” He turned her to him, and she felt the heat of him more fully. “If I say nothing, you’ll leave.” He came closer, a whisper of fabric that brushed the back of her hand.

  “But if I said that I can’t get you out of my mind, can’t sleep at night without dreaming about you, or get through a single day without thinking of you…” His voice deepened to a dark aching tone that slithered through her blood till the ache penetrated every part of her being.

  “That just standing here beside you could bring me to my knees with the need to be with you. That I’m sorry I hurt you and would go down on my knees right now, if I thought you’d give us another chance.” He stroked the side of her face and her own knees threatened to give out. “If I said all that, and asked if I could love you, what would you say, Felicity?”

  She breathed in his scent, fought with yearning, and wrestled her heart. Of course he didn’t mean love the way she felt it…

  “Yes,” she whispered and opened her eyes to stare up at him. “I’d say yes.”

  He seemed shocked, then a slow smile spread across his face. “Really?”

  “Rea—”

  His mouth was on hers, devouring, hot, wet and hungry, cutting off words, feeding insanity. Soon two pairs of frantic hands were pulling at clothes—untying, unzipping, unbuttoning—either wedged below a waistband or cupping firm velvety flesh.

  First he was back-stepping her across the room, headed for the bedroom, then they were spinning round and round, till with heaving too-short breaths he was the one walking backwards.

  They hit the bed in a partially-clothed heap that knocked some of the urgency out of them. Daniel rose up on an elbow and she stared into his eyes, noting the ring of blue-gray around his pupils that she’d never noticed before.

  He brushed her hair away from her face, his finger strokes causing gossamer streams of desire to sluice down her spine. Then he slowly ran a work-worn palm down her neck, stopping just above the crest of her breast. A feeling, thick and bittersweet, pressed down on Felicity’s heart, seeking entry, and she ached with the wanting of it.