by Toni Aleo
“No, it–” Ms. Prissy goes to say, but I interrupt her.
“No, but I’d like to keep my real name to myself until we sign contracts,” I say quickly, and I can feel Ms. Prissy’s eyes on me. Ignoring her, I add, “If you don’t mind.”
“That’s fine with me,” he says with a grin. He’s a good-looking man, young, late twenties, with short blond hair and blue eyes that shine bright in the dim light. “I can guarantee the deal I have for you will be ten times what these two are offering you. I don’t want you to run a Ms. Prissy’s, no offense,” he says to Ms. Prissy before looking back at me. “But I want you for your own show. I work for Lights and Sounds Hotels, and we want you to headline a show for us.”
“I’m not performing after tonight. I want to be strictly backstage.”
He nods, not missing a beat. “That’s fine and I can promise you that the deal I’ll have for you is something you can’t turn down. The only problem is I can’t offer you the deal without my bosses. We’ve heard of you. I’ve sent them video of your work here, and they want to see it for themselves. They can come in ten days, and we’re hoping instead of signing with someone else, you’ll put on a showcase for us and give us a chance.”
For some reason, I feel good about this guy.
“My deal will be on the table for five days,” Bruce says suddenly.
I meet his gaze and say, “I’d like to wait to see what they offer me.”
“I can’t wait that long,” Bruce says and then he stands. “So I’ll bow out of this pissing match. Good luck to you.”
“Thank you,” I say and then he’s gone.
“So I guess I’m out too. I can’t wait two weeks,” Mr. Sinclair says and then he stands. “Good luck to you both.”
I don’t say anything to him, and when he leaves, I let out the breath I’ve been holding, meeting Don’s gaze as he says, “I promise you won’t regret this.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say. “Because I just watched one good offer walk away.”
He nods and then sends me a wink. “Don’t worry. You’ll be swimming in money when we get you to Vegas. See you guys soon.”
Shaking my hand and then Ms. Prissy’s, he leaves after that and I take in a lungful of air. Biting into my lip, I replay everything that just happened.
“Did I do that right?” I ask, looking up at Ms. Prissy.
She nods. “I think you handled that beautifully.”
“What if the Vegas deal sucks?”
“Then you say no, and you wait for the next deal. You’ll be okay.”
Nodding, I look away as my heart pounds against my chest like a drum. “Can I do this in two weeks, put together a whole show?” I ask, my stomach churning with fear. I’ve always disliked that fear. It has such a power to take you down, and I hate that. I want to be strong, confident in my decision, but that just happened so quickly. I turned down two offers, and now I’m putting all my eggs in one basket. Is it the right choice? I want to say yes, that I feel good about it, but I can’t. I’m nervous as hell. Not only is this going to skyrocket my career, but I’ll also be living my dreams.
“Yes, you can. I believe in you,” she answers, and I let out another breath.
She’s right and I’m going to rock the hell out of that show. With a grin on my face, I stand up. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, darling,” she says, hugging me tightly before I leave the room. Heading to my station, I decide to leave my stuff there since I’m obviously not done here. Looking around the room, I see that it is empty except for Ben leaning against the door. I’m pretty sure that Mr. Sinclair is gone, so I sit ready to take my contacts and wig off, but just as I go to do that, I hear Ellen say, “Sweetie, come meet my best friend, Claire!”
Best friend in the least, I think, but when I turn to see who she’s talking to, I’m cold again. My heart starts to race, my body feels rigid and almost not like mine as my eyes go wide and I’m suddenly fighting for my next breath.
“Claire, I wanted to introduce you to my boyfriend, Marky.”
Mr. Sinclair’s eyes meet mine, and his head cocks to the side as if he is realizing who I am. I don’t say anything; all I can do is look at him with nothing but horror and disgust on my face. Jude’s dad is cheating on his mom with Ellen? A girl who is younger than his daughter? I disliked this man before. Now I absolutely hate him.
“Hello? Earth to Claire!” Ellen sings, and I look at her. A part of my heart breaks for her. She may be an idiot, but I know she would never sleep with a married man. She came from a broken home and told me before that she would never be a home-wrecker; now Mr. Sinclair has made her one.
Another reason to hate this man to the fiery depths of hell.
“Hey,” I blurt out, my heart beating so fast as my chest burns with nausea.
I have to call Jude; I have to tell him.
He’s going to flip.
“Guess what? He just offered me this amazing deal in New York! I’m going to run a Ms. Prissy’s if she allows me to!” Ellen says, but I can’t even listen to her. My heart is breaking for Jude, his family, and the devastation this is going to cause. As much as I don’t want to be the one to tell them, I know I have to. No one deserves to be cheated on, and I refuse to allow someone I care about to go on not knowing that her husband is a complete snake.
“Wonderful,” I mutter and then very slowly, I remove my wig and pull out my braid, letting my red hair fall down my shoulders.
When I meet his gaze again, his eyes are narrowed with recognition and he says, “Ellen, sweetheart, can you go on out to my car and get my briefcase? Maybe we can catch Prissy real quick.”
“Sure, baby,” she says and then looks at me. “Hey, keep my man entertained for a second, but not in like a slutty way. That’s not what I mean. You have a boyfriend. What am I saying?” she says in her ditzy way and then she’s walking away, her hair bouncing with each step she takes.
Looking back at Mr. Sinclair, I growl, “You are the lowest piece of shit I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“You listen to me, you little bitch,” he snaps, taking a step toward me. “You keep your mouth shut or–”
“Or what? You can’t do anything to me, and if you try, Ben will stop you,” I say, nodding my head toward Ben. He comes off the wall, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. When Mr. Sinclair looks back at me, his face is red with anger.
“I won’t let you ruin my family.”
“You did that yourself.”
He pauses, breathing heavily, and everything inside me tells me to run, but very slowly I lay my wig down and then pull my hair up in a messy bun, acting as if his presence doesn’t bother me a bit.
“What do you want?” he then asks. “Money? I’ll give you thousands. I’ll give you the club, the clothing budget, car, house, anything. Just keep your mouth shut.”
“I’d rather have nothing than keep something like this from the people I care for. How dare you hurt someone like Mrs. Sinclair? You are a horrible, sad man, and I’m sorry, but no amount of money is going to keep me from opening my mouth. I suggest you be honest before I do it for you.”
I can see the desperation in his eyes and I don’t understand it. Shaking my head, I ask, “Why? Why risk what you have?”
“What I have? I have nothing but a fucking burden on my hands. I have a wife who does nothing for me. Kids who are more a hassle than anything else and a granddaughter who drives me fucking nuts. Wanna know why I do it? I hate my life, I hate the people I’m supposed to love, I’m bored, I want out, and Ellen is my way out.”
“Then leave, you disgusting rat,” I say, shaking my head. “Stop putting everyone through hell.”
“You are nothing but a stupid little girl. You don’t know anything about this. So shut up and keep your mouth shut. I’ll take care of it on my own time,” he sneers, his eyes flashing with anger along with pure anguish.
“No way,” I say, reaching for my jacket. “I won’t let you lie to them any more tha
n you have.”
I go to pass him but he takes ahold of my arm and pleads, “I’ll give you half a million.”
I don’t have time to answer him. Ben shoots by me faster than lightning and removes Mr. Sinclair’s hand from my arm. Looking back at him, I slowly shake my head. Before I would have taken the money and I wouldn’t have cared about anything else. That was before I found love, before I realized that my family and my boyfriend are worth more than anything in this world. Before when I was completely hollow and nothing but a scared girl with no options but to end up like her mother. I’m not that girl anymore. I have my dreams at my fingertips, a family who would die for me, and a man who would give me the world if I asked for it.
So as I look at Mr. Sinclair, I say the only thing that comes to mind.
“You don’t deserve them, and they will be so much better off without you.”
And then I leave, ignoring the names and the threats he’s throwing my way because Mark Sinclair can’t hurt me. He doesn’t have that power over me, and the people he does have that power over deserve to know he is a piece of shit.
The only problem is I’m the one who has to tell them.
Chapter 45
Jude
Claire: Where are u?
I smile because I was just about to text her. After kicking ass in Chattanooga, the guys and I decided to go to the Gilroy to hang out and wind down before heading to bed.
Me: I was about to text u; wanna go to the Gilroy? I’m on my way there.
Claire: I’ll meet you there.
Awesome. I’m more than pleased that she’s coming out. Ever since I left her earlier, she has clouded my thoughts and clogged all my senses. That is until a huge defenseman knocked me on my ass and then I woke up, remembering that I had a game to win. And that’s what I did. We dominated, and really, it isn’t fair how we basically murdered those boys. I mean, eight to zero is a little intense. I’m happy though, a win is a win, and we need it for the championship.
“Claire coming out?” Jayden asks as we pull into the parking lot of the Gilroy.
“Yeah,” I answer, tucking my phone in my pocket as he stops. Getting out of the car, I look around to see if I see her, but I don’t, so we head toward the door. Before I can reach it though, Jayden’s phone rings.
“It’s Dad,” he says, his face scrunched together. “It’s almost one in the morning. Why would he be calling me?”
“I don’t know. Answer it,” I say and he does.
Watching him, I listen since I can only hear his side of the conversation. “Hey, I’m sure she is. Lucy left before the bus pulled out. Maybe her phone is dead? Did you call Lucy? Yeah, I don’t know.”
When a hand slides into mine, I look over to find Claire, and I’m a little taken aback by what I see; she has more makeup on than I’ve ever seen on her before.
With my brow up, I say, “Hey.”
I then lean over, kissing the side of her mouth since her lips are so red, I’m sure it will stain my mouth. I usually don’t mind, but that stuff looks as if I’ll need Clorox to get it off.
“Hey, I need to talk to you,” she says, her eyes wide and her breathing labored.
Before I can answer, I hear Jayden says, “Yeah, she’s with him. Why?”
Look back at Jayden, I make a face and he shrugs. Glancing back at Claire, I say, “Hold on, Jayden’s on the phone with my dad.”
“Um, okay,” she says just as Jayden hangs up.
“Yeah, I don’t know what the hell his problem is.”
“What did he say?” I ask.
“He asked if Mom was home, and I said I’m sure she is, but he’s bitching, saying she isn’t answering her phone. He went on a tirade about that and then he asked about Claire,” he says, looking over at her, pointing his phone at her. “So weird.”
“That is weird.”
“Yeah, he’s on his way home, said he’ll be there in a minute.”
“I thought he was in New York?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m gonna text Lucy and let her know he’s on another level and also check in, make sure they’re good.”
I nod. “Sounds good. He’s an idiot,” I say, shaking my head. “Oh well, I’ll meet you inside.”
“Okay. Hey, Claire,” he says, and Claire smiles as she waves.
“Hey, Jayden,” she says and then he heads inside, saying that he’ll get me a beer.
“Can we go by my car? I don’t want people hearing us,” she says, but before I can agree or disagree, she heads toward her car and I follow. Something inside my stomach clenches because something isn’t right. I don’t know why I feel that way, but I do. She doesn’t ever just walk away from me; she takes my hand or leans against me. Something is wrong and soon the hairs on my arms are standing at attention.
When we reach her car, she turns and I ask, “Why are you wearing so much makeup?”
She waves me off. “I just left the club. Remember the investors?”
“You wear that much makeup to meet some investors? It’s caked on.”
“I know. Just let it go okay? I need to tell you something,” she says, flustered. “One of the investors was your dad.”
My lip curls up. “Huh?”
“One of the investors planning to open a new burlesque club in New York was your dad,” she says and something isn’t clicking right.
“My dad is a lawyer for hockey players,” I say. “Are you sure it was my dad?”
She nods. “Yeah, he threatened me,” she says cautiously.
Shocked, I ask, “He did what?”
“Yeah, but it gets worse,” she says, looking everywhere but at me.
“How?” I ask and somehow I think I know what is about to come out of her mouth.
“After I turned down his deal, I went to get my purse and he walked up with one of the dancers from the club. She informed me that he was her boyfriend. Then he sent her to go to the car, and when she was gone, he tried to buy me off so that I wouldn’t tell you guys. When I said hell no, he threatened me but he never got his hands on me because the bodyguard stopped him.”
I must not be processing what she’s saying, but I know it’s the truth. I’ve always thought my dad was fucking around on my mom. He’s always such an ass to her and always gone and shit. For some reason though, my heart aches. It must be because my mom is going to be completely broken. She loves my dad for some fucked-up reason, and this isn’t going to go well. Taking in a slow breath, I clench my hand into a fist, my nails biting into my palm as I let out the breath in a whoosh.
“Wow, I need to call my mom,” I say almost like I’m in a trance.
“I’m sorry,” she says, and I shake my head.
“It’s not your fault,” I answer, reaching for my phone in my pocket. When I hit the screen, I see that I have four text messages and five missed calls from Jace.
“Shit. Jace has been calling and texting me.”
“I didn’t hear your phone ring,” she says and I nod.
“I had it on silent,” I say and then I open his messages.
Littler Bro: Dude, shit is going down over here. Mom and Dad are screaming at each other and Lucy left with Angie cause she doesn’t want her around this.
Littler Bro: What the hell is wrong with your phone? I’ve called you five times.
Littler Bro: Shit, Dad’s cheating on Mom with some slut from a strip club. I didn’t know that Claire is a stripper. She’s the one who found him with someone.
Littler Bro: Fuck, will you call me!
I didn’t know that Claire is a stripper.
No. Surely I’m reading that wrong. Looking up, I see that Claire is looking down, messing with her nails. She’s stiff, her shoulders back and tight and she’s working her lip, something she does when she’s nervous. My stomach turns and I feel like I might hurl everywhere.
No. No. Jace has to be wrong.
“Claire,” I say and she looks up at me, but then back down.
“What?”
“Look at me,” I demand, but she doesn’t for a second.
Then slowly, she looks up at me and my heart starts to pound in my chest because something is very wrong here. “Why are your eyes brown?”
Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. She then takes a deep breath in and says, “I go to the club in a disguise. I wear a blond wig and brown contacts when I’m there.”
“Why?” I ask. “Because that doesn’t seem right if you are only choreographing. You don’t cake that much makeup on when you teach at the studio or when you do the dance team. Hell, even when you’re on the ice, you don’t have on that much makeup.”
I wait, and when her eyes start to fill with tears, I know that Jace isn’t wrong at all.
My girlfriend is a stripper.
Within seconds, my whole body is taut, burning with anger as I stare down at her, waiting for her to say something. Fucking anything, but all she’s doing is staring at me, taking in deeps breaths, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Unable to take it any longer, I say, “Well?”
“What did Jace say?” she asks, and I shake my head.
“Fuck no. Don’t let him tell me what you need to tell me.”
Biting into her lip, a tear rolls down her face and I refuse to look away. I promised to myself that I would never make her cry unhappy tears, that I would have a life for us full of love and happiness, but all I feel right now is red-hot anger.
She’s lied to me. She’s hidden something from me, and that’s not fucking okay.
Her lip wobbles, and she takes in a deep breath. “I work at Ms. Prissy’s as a dancer.”
And there it is. My blood boils under my skin as I slowly shake my head. “For how long?”
“Two years,” she answers and everything stops.
“Two fucking years? And you never told me?” I say, my voice getting louder with each word.
“It didn’t matter. It wasn’t what I planned on doing my whole life. I just need the money.”
“So you whored yourself out to get money and lied to me. Now it all makes sense,” I say, a lump forming in my throat. “All those nights you came to my house, saying that you couldn’t sleep. Lies. That day I found that money in your drawer, that wasn’t from Reese. It was from where you took your clothes off for men.”