Living well is the best revenge. The well-known and oft uttered quote popped into her head and she smiled. It was something her mother had often said when the media would publish lies and unflattering stories about her.
Diamond had thought that she was living well. The life of an Aubergine showgirl was a glamorous one most days, and she was having fun. Las Vegas was a city full of life—there was always something to see, and something to do. But, if she was really honest with herself, she wasn’t really living. Not the way she should be. She had ended up here as a way to lick her wounds away from her well-meaning family and friends in California. So far, that was all she had done.
That, she vowed, ends now. She was taking back her birthday, and the rest of her life with it.
Running a brush haphazardly through her pale hair, and heaping her mascara generously, she added her favorite red lipstick to polish off her look. She squinted at her blurry reflection in the mirror. “Look out Las Vegas, Here I come.” She said it aloud, then frowned when she realized she was talking to herself again.
Two minutes later, she was on the elevator dressed to the nines in her favorite white dress that was usually reserved as part of her costume, and four-inch diamond studded heels that had been her mother’s. She had a flask full of liquor tucked into her garter belt, and she was ready to party.
Chapter Two
She entered through the back entrance, which was reserved for on duty employees, even though she wasn’t on duty tonight. These heels were a lot harder to walk in than she remembered, and she didn’t feel like going outside the casino, all the way back around to the front of the club, and dealing with the bouncer. A glance towards the door told her she had made the right decision. She didn’t know where Jerry was tonight, but Pax was in his place. At a bulky six foot two, every inch of him lean and cut, the bald headed man bore a scary resemblance to either Vin Diesel or The Rock. At the moment, she wasn’t sure which was which. She was always getting those two confused. Either way, in her opinion, Pax Donovan was someone she went to great lengths to avoid on a good day, and tonight was no exception.
She wasn’t sure why she was so afraid of him. Some of the girls loved him, and she had even heard a few refer to others, or themselves, as one of “Pax’s Girls.” She didn’t know what that was about. Was he a pimp, or just a player? It didn’t matter what the other girls did to get by. She kept her nose clean and stayed out of it, but she was nobody’s play-thing. She did just enough to keep her cover.
As she rounded into the main club area, one of the other girls, Topaz, made a beeline for her. All of Aubergine’s showgirls were named after gemstones. It was why she had chosen this club over some of the other classier more exclusive clubs. She could hide in plain sight, go by her real first and middle name, and no-one would be the wiser. She was Diamond Jewel, Aubergine showgirl. No one had ever guessed that she was really Diamond Jewell Barrett, daughter of the one and only Elizabeth Barrett. Her ironic sense of humor was at home here, where two of her stage sisters bore the same names as her real sisters, Ruby and Emerald, who they called Emmy.
Topaz, named for her sparkling blue eyes, and raven black hair, rushed towards her. “Girl, you’re not working tonight. Why you wearing that dress? You know we’re not supposed to wear our costumes out and about.”
Diamond just waved her off. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Izz fine,” she slurred, then giggled when a hiccup escaped. She needed another drink. She fumbled beneath her dress, and withdrew her jeweled flask that had been a gag gift from one of her sisters years ago.
Topaz’s eyes bugged out of her head. “What are you doing? Put that away! Have you gone mad?” Topaz may have been yelling at her, but she carefully blocked Diamond’s body with her own, keeping her from view as she polished off the contents of the small flask.
She tried to replace the flask into the small pocket on her garter, but stumbled in her heels, and clung drunkenly to Topaz’s arm on her way down. To her credit, the raven haired beauty effortlessly pulled her back into a standing position before anyone had a chance to notice. “Girl, you got to get out of here! You’re drunk—no, scratch that. You’re not drunk, you’re completely shit faced. You have to get out of here before Jason sees you!”
“Jason.” Diamond giggled as she thought of her handsome man-candy boss. “Where’s Jason? He hasn’t wished me a happy birthday yet!” Di exclaimed. Pushing past Topaz on shaky feet, she made a beeline for the bar.
“I’d like a shot of… something…” Diamond mumbled, shaking her finger at the female bartender erratically. “No, No, make that two shots! No, Five! Five shots!”
The bartender, Ashlee, a fresh faced transplant from Georgia with show business dreams barely held back a laugh as she shook her head. “Nuh-uh. No way, sugar. I’m not serving you a drop, honey. You are blasted already. I’m surprised you’re still standing.”
Undeterred, she turned on her best pouty face. “But, it’s my birthday!” she exclaimed dramatically, throwing herself against the bar.
“Happy birthday,” Ashlee responded dryly, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “I’m still not serving you. It’s not worth my job.”
Diamond rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. “Party-pooper.”
Ashlee stuck out her tongue right back. “Go on, get out of here, before you get me in trouble. Go hit the dance floor or something.”
For some reason, this struck her as the greatest idea ever, and all of a sudden she couldn’t wait another second to hit the dance floor. Never mind that the music had just stopped, or that the lights were dimming to signal the beginning of their nightly show. Those things didn’t matter. In that moment, all that mattered was shaking her money-maker.
* * *
The line was dying down as it always did once the show was ready to begin. A few drunken stragglers might make their way over on their way from other bars and clubs, but for the most part his job was done, at least for the next hour or so. Grabbing a chair from a nearby table, Pax turned so that he was angled half towards the stage, and half towards the door.
Within seconds, his buddy Jason was standing beside him, arms crossed with his attention directed towards the dance floor. “Busy night tonight.”
Pax nodded.
“You get any troublemakers?”
“Few fake IDs. Nothing I can’t handle.” Following Jason’s gaze, Pax raised his eyes at the sight of a woman who was dancing by herself, to a song that was only in her head, bumping and grinding against an empty chair, and occasionally, an enthusiastic member of the audience.
“That one of your girls?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yup.” Jason’s jaw was twitching in a way Pax had only ever seen once or twice over the years.
“I take it that’s not part of the performance?”
“Nope.”
“You going to do anything?”
Jason sighed. “Not yet. I’m not sure what’s going on. Diamond isn’t usually like this. I’ve never even seen her come down here on her night off. Some of these girls are party girls, you know. But not Diamond. She usually keeps to herself, and stays out of trouble.”
The dancers who were on duty came onto the stage, and his relief mixed with horror as he watched Diamond still, and drop into the lap of an unsuspecting bystander. The young man sported cowboy boots and a button down shirt, and a lecherous smile as he draped his arm around her shoulder. Pax started to rise from his seat, but Jason put a hand out to stop him.
“Let it be. Randy is safe. We don’t need a scene right now, and he won’t do anything. He knows I’m watching him.”
Pax trained his eye on them, ready to move quickly if there was a need but Jason was right. Whoever Randy was, he was a gentleman. One hand stayed wrapped around his drink, and the other never left her shoulder.
Things stayed mellow for a while, but a night at Aubergine wasn’t complete without their signature performance of “Shine Bright Like a Diamond,” and apparently no performa
nce of Shine Bright was complete without Diamond herself.
Before either of them could stop her, she rushed the stage, and took her place in the very front, belting out the chorus at the top of her lungs. To their credit, none of the other dancers batted an eyelash at her unexpected and unusual performance. They continued as usual, dancing around her as if she wasn’t even there, paying no attention to the fact that her very unusual dance moves were completely off sync with theirs. When she turned her back to the crowd and starting twerking, Jason lost it.
“Strike three, princess. It’s been nice knowing you,” Pax heard Jason mutter under his breath.
Then he turned. “Get her off the stage. Let her sleep it off, and send her on her way in the morning.”
He was already barreling to the stage when he heard Jason call after him. He turned, just in time to catch the keys hurling towards his head. “We’re going to need her personnel file to cut her last check and write a report.”
“Got it.” He didn’t bother pointing out that it made more sense for Jason to do that, since he was apparently going to be spending the rest of his evening babysitting a drunken diva. He knew his friend well enough to know when not to push a point. In one fell swoop, he scooped her off the stage mid twerk, and threw her over his shoulder.
She didn’t scream, or argue or demand to be put down as he would have expected. To his amusement, she laughed, and squealed like a child. “Weeee!”
She continued like this as he made his way across the casino and down to the offices. She never once questioned where they were going, which Pax found worrisome. He was around Aubergine enough that she probably knew who he was, but really, he could be anybody taking her anywhere in this state, and she wouldn’t have argued. That made him sick to his stomach.
With one hand positioned across her back holding her in place, he managed to wrestle the key into the door of the personal office, which was closed at this time of night, and over to the file cabinet. She wasn’t making any noise whatsoever now, and Pax wondered if she had passed out.
Thankfully, the file folders were organized first by their stage names, or he wouldn’t know where to look. He suspected that underneath all the make-up and glamorous costumes, she looked like your average girl next door with long legs and a nice rack. Jason wasn’t too picky. She probably had a plain name like Jane, Mary or Molly, or a horrendously ill-fitting one like Agnes or Gertrude. It took him only a minute or two to find the correct file, as they were arranged alphabetically, and he left the office without opening it. There would be time for that later.
Right now, he needed to get her to bed. She was becoming a dead weight across his shoulder, and the casinos were huge. He had already carried her at least a mile. He was grateful that the offices weren’t too far from the small block of rooms Jason kept for his dancers. Her room number, 1402, was plastered across the front of her file with her stage name.
He passed by a smaller bar, and a few shops before she started moaning. He assumed she was doing so in her sleep, until she began pounding on his back with small tight fists. “Let me down! I’m going to be sick!”
It was all Pax needed to hear. He quickly set her to her feet, and steered her towards the back of the small bar they had just passed, hanging on until she was safely in the ladies’ room. At first he could hear her violent retching. The sound turned his stomach, even though he knew it was for the best.
He listened for a few minutes, making sure that she was okay, and when the retching and gagging stopped, he leaned against the wall to wait.
He had been there for about twenty minutes, watching as large groups of women in tight micro skirts, tube tops, and stilettos went in and out. Diamond still hadn’t come out.
“Excuse me, miss.” He caught the arm of a girl who was coming out of the restroom alone. “Did you happen to see a blonde woman in there, wearing a white dress? Is she okay?”
She sent him a withering stare that let him know that the only reason she wasn’t decking him was that he was still wearing the official Aubergine Security T-shirt he had worn while bouncing, and pushed past him without answering.
He had no choice but to go in, so that’s what he did. Bracing himself, he shoved the door open, and strode in like he owned the place, because technically, he did.
He spotted her right away. There was a couch against the wall opposite the full-length mirrors, and Diamond was sitting in the center of it, with a group of scantily clad partiers crowded around her. That wasn’t out of the ordinary. This was Vegas after all. It was the rest of the scene that made his heart stop in his chest. She was holding a small flat mirror, with a thick white line of powder across its surface, and holding a rolled up dollar bill to her nose, while the other girls cheered her on, and tried to instruct her.
He was nearly blinded with rage, but he managed to keep it in check as he scooped her right out from the middle of the group, without breaking up the circle.
“Oh,” she whined prettily, from her spot over his shoulder. “But, I was just about to have some fun!”
“You have had more than enough fun for the evening, trust me.” Every ounce of his being was fighting the urge to sit down on the couch and pull her over his knee for an honest to goodness ass whooping, audience or no. He would never, as much as he wanted to, without an agreement of consent.
“Hey, mister.” A pint size pixie of a woman in a skintight leopard print dress, and way too much eye makeup, stepped in front of the door. “Put her down! You ain’t her daddy! She is a grown ass woman!”
Pax sighed. The woman barely stood above belly button height to him, even in her three-inch heels, and he would totally find the situation laughable if he wasn’t so pissed off. “You’re absolutely right, I am not,” he emphasized, pointedly correcting her grammar, “her daddy. What I am though, is the owner of this fine establishment. So either you shut your mouth and move out of my way, and then leave, or I will call the cops and tell them you’re giving out drugs in the bathroom.”
Her eyes got huge, and she quickly moved out of his way. He should call the cops anyway, but he wasn’t going to. He had enough to deal with at the moment.
Thankfully, Diamond had stopped protesting, and fallen back to sleep, and the rest of the trip to her room was without incident. Using his master key card, he entered, frowning as he stepped over several empty pint bottles on his way to the bed.
He deposited her in the middle of the bed, checking to be sure she was breathing, and then tilted her head up and checked her nostrils for any signs of the tell-tale white residue. He was fairly certain he had gotten to her in time, but he needed to be sure. Finding nothing, he was appeased.
For the first time that night, Pax got a good look at her face. With light blonde hair that was almost white, and light blue eyes, the name Diamond fit her. He had seen her before, but she was wearing a lot less make-up than usual, and the majority of what she had been wearing had already worn off. She had perfect heart shaped lips, and, if he said so himself, a perfect ass that was downright spankable. It was a shame this was Aubergine and not Rojo. Instead of being fired, he would take it out of her hide. On stage, in front of an audience.
An idea began to form in the recesses of his brain, and he quickly dismissed it. Or at least he tried to. He really shouldn’t be considering it—but he couldn’t help but think that when she woke up, she would be jobless and homeless. Still, it was completely of her own doing, and he really didn’t need to be taking on a girl with this many issues.
If it wasn’t for what Jason had said about her, he would have stayed until she woke up, fired her, and sent her on her way. As it was, he couldn’t help but open her file. Turning it open to the first page, he read her name, and did a double take. “Holy crap!”
Chapter Three
“I appreciate your concern Jase, but there were extreme extenuating circumstances here. I really think she deserves another chance…. Look at it this way, if she agrees, we’ll have something on the roster for Vanilla
Night tonight…. Fine. I’ll do it.”
Diamond heard the voice through the pounding of her head, but she had no idea who it belonged to or what it meant. Where was she?
She squinted, opening her eyes as wide as she could bear to, and took in her surroundings. Everything was a blur but it seemed like she was safely in her suite. The question was, who was with her, and why?
Her head felt like it was stuck in a vise, and even though the lights were off and the shades drawn, the tiny bit of light that was sneaking through the slats was enough. She sat up in bed, eyes still shut, and groaned aloud.
Instantly, a heavy weight settled on the bed beside her. A hand took hers, and extended it in front of her, dropping three pills into her flattened palm. She presumed they were aspirin, though she heavily doubted that three would do the trick. She felt like death, and she really couldn’t remember why. Her stomach roiled against her, and she shoved herself off the bed as fast as she could, opening her eyes only enough to see a clear path to the bathroom.
As soon as her knees hit the cold tile in front of the toilet, her stomach roiled and emptied, and she was struck suddenly with déjà vu, a feeling that she had been in this position recently. The thought didn’t last long, as her body rebelled against her once more. With each sour purging of the vile poison, a niggling of a memory of the day before came with it, flashing like images on a movie screen. Her birthday, her father’s phone call, empty bottles, the newspaper article. Going downstairs to the club, more shots, dancing, sitting on Randy’s lap, twerking? Good lord, how much had she had to drink?
Evidently a lot. When her stomach settled, she collapsed against the cool tile, exhausted and no doubt, dehydrated. Diamond lay there spent for several minutes, until the sound of footsteps in the next room reminded her that she wasn’t alone. Pausing to listen, she willed the man to speak, in case she recognized his voice. No sounds came. She couldn’t for the life of her recall anything from the night before that would explain waking up with a man in her room. It didn’t feel like she had had sex, and she certainly wasn’t in the habit of random casual encounters. Then again, she wasn’t in the habit of a lot of things she had apparently done last night.
Collared (Vegas Nights Book 1) Page 2