My Soul to Play (Games People Play Book 2)

by Robin Roseau

  I was even more surprised when no one stopped them.

  Then I shook my head and made my way to the middle of the bar. I waited for the bartender to tear himself away from the two women. I spent the time looking around the bar.

  Eventually he made his way down the bar to me. "What will you have?"

  "Can you tell Ms. Marsh that..." I paused. "Um. Tell her Teigan is here. I'm expected." I decided I didn't want to give him my full name.

  He looked me up and down anyway. "You're not the usual type."

  "Usual type."

  "Dancer."

  "Oh. I know. I wear more clothing and less makeup."

  He pulled out a glass and poured a coke for me, setting it down in front of me. "She knows you're here."

  "How does she know that?"

  "Because she said you would be here at four, and no one is ever late to an appointment with her." At that, he stepped away, returning to his conversation with the two women at the end of the bar. I swiveled around and watched the other people.

  For the fifth time, Evaline surprised me, appearing at my side before I noticed her. I had even been trying to watch for her.

  "How do you do that?"

  She just laughed then gestured with her head. "Come on."

  * * * *

  I followed her through the back door, but this time, instead of doing to her office, we turned right and descended a set of stairs into the basement. She gestured as we walked. "The ladies' is there, if you need it."

  "Thanks."

  She led me to a set of double glass doors, pushing through into what I discovered was a dance studio. I stopped in the entrance and stared.

  There was a raised dance floor, lights, and one wall with mirrors. There was a ballet barre along that wall and one of the adjacent walls. Along the outside walls clear of the dance floor were various chairs and tables.

  On the middle of the dance floor, moving slowly but sinuously, was a small woman with long, black hair and a dancer's body. My eyes settled on her. Even from behind, she was cute. I watched her for a minute or two.

  I startled slightly when Evaline took my arm. "Teigan, I want to introduce you." She tugged, and I allowed myself to be led to the edge of the dance floor. Evaline stepped out of her shoes and said, "Please remove those." She gestured to my feet.

  I casually kicked off my tennis shoes, shoving them with my foot until they came to a rest beside Evaline's more carefully arranged heels. Then I stepped onto the dance floor.

  The dancer ignored us at first, but then she did a long, sweeping turn, standing on one foot with the other stretched far behind her, one arm held straight up, two fingers pointed to the ceiling, and the other arm held forward, parallel to the floor. She came to a stop facing us then straightened, under complete control all the while. She didn't wobble even the smallest amount.

  As she faced us, I realized she was of Asian heritage, although I couldn't tell if she were Japanese, Chinese, or something else entirely.

  Evaline clapped for her, and the woman offered a small bow of her head, then smiled at Evaline. Her gaze turned to me and she offered a second, smaller smile. It felt welcoming.

  "Teigan," Evaline said. "I would like you to meet Naomi." This was the woman she'd told me about yesterday.

  The woman stepped forward with a smile, offering her hand. "Upstairs, I am Naomi," she said. "Down here, I hope you'll call me Karen. And what is your name down here?"

  We shook hands. "Teigan is my name. I... um... don't know my name upstairs."

  "I think we'll call you Lacey," Evaline said with a grin. "Fitting, don't you think?"

  I didn't respond to that. Instead I kept my gaze on Karen. "You're an amazing dancer."

  She gestured behind her. "That? I was just warming up. Stretching. It feels good."

  "I thought perhaps you would rather Karen teach you," the demon said. "Although if you would rather I did..." she trailed off, letting it be my decision.

  I turned to her. "I can't move like that." I gestured to where Karen had been warming up. "You understand that, don't you?"

  "You will find your own body," Evaline replied, "your own way to move. Dinner is at 6:30. Karen will show you where. You'll meet some of the other dancers, but most won't arrive until show time. You will not go on first. Remain on the property, and I will find you in time to change into your first costume."

  I gulped at that thought. I resented she was making me do this, but if this was the price, it was the price, and I thought it was much smaller than the additional feasting she would have accepted instead.

  She stepped forward and patted my cheek. "This can be horrible for you. Or maybe it will be a new experience. It comes down to your own attitude. Either way, I know you'll do your best to please me."

  Then without another word, she stepped away, collected her shoes, and was out the door a moment later, Karen and I watching her.

  "God!" Karen said once the door was closed. "She's hot enough to turn me gay." She sighed. "I love that woman."

  I turned my head to look at her. I could see the admiration in her eyes. She looked back at me. "She told me what she said to you about me. She saved me, you know. Those guys were going to rape me and maybe even kill me. And if that wasn't enough, she took me home, got my story from me, and had me and the kids out of that place the next day."

  "She didn't tell me all of that, but some."

  "I'd do anything for her." Karen smiled. "I know what most people think about the type of dancing we do, but you wouldn't believe what it pays."

  "You're amazing to watch," I said. "Do you..." I looked down at my stocking-clad feet. "Strip?"

  "No. Well, partway. But no, not all the way. It's not that kind of club. You'll see. Some of the girls don't take off a stitch. The guys, now. They're barely legal. You can see their junk if you try."

  "Eww."

  She laughed. "You're more interested in seeing my junk?"

  "Um."

  "Or maybe Evaline's junk."

  I'm sure I colored.

  "That's what I thought," she said. "She said you were special. What she didn't tell me was why you're here tonight. You clearly don't want to be."

  "I need a favor from Evaline. This is what she's charging me for it."

  Karen laughed. "That sounds like her. I remember the coaxing it took for me to dance the first time. But you know what she told me?" I shook my head. "She told me a bunch of things, actually. The first was, if you've got it, flaunt it." She looked me up and down. "You've got it."

  "Not like you."

  "No, you've got your own it." She smiled. "You look like a cop."

  "I am a cop."

  Karen laughed and held up her hand, waiting for a high-five. "Oh, can I call 'em, or can I call 'em?"

  I gave her the high-five then asked her, "What did she say to get you up on stage?"

  "She told me that life comes with choices, and that we won't always like them. She told me that there is a price to achieve the things I want, but that if I were in it for the long haul, I could give my kids a good life and maybe have a pretty decent one of my own. She told me that while I might be embarrassed to put myself on display like that, it would buy me time to pursue choices I might otherwise prefer."

  "Did she make you dance?"

  "No. She told me I could be a waitress or bartender, if I wanted, but that I'd make a lot more money dancing. So I did both. She was right. I make a lot more dancing. Now I help out serving for emergencies, but otherwise I only work four nights a week and own my house besides." She smiled again. "And you know what? I like it. Evaline doesn't tell us how we have to dance, and she encourages us to experiment. It's pretty clear when the audience likes what we're doing and when they don't."

  "Tonight is ladies' night. Do you dance for the women?"

  She grinned. "Oh yeah. There are just a few women dancing tonight. It's mostly men. The other nights it's the other way around. But I love dancing on Thursdays. It's easy to get the guys worked up, but w
hen you get a room of women to cheer you on, you know you've still got it."

  I laughed.

  "Well," Karen said. "Let's get started. We're going to stretch first. I bet you work out."

  "I do."

  "Well, we're going to do different stretches today." She took my hand and pulled me to the center of the dance floor facing the mirror. "Teigan, do you mind if I touch you?"

  "No."

  "Okay. Stand here." She moved behind me. "Feet together. Stand up as straight as you can looking straight forward. Arms at your sides." I did what she said. "All right. Everything we do, we're going to do very slowly. It's about control, not speed or strength. Think about what you're going to do before you do it. Okay?"

  "Okay."

  "Okay, take one hand and stretch it towards the ceiling, as high as you can."

  I reached up, but was only halfway there before she stopped me.

  "No," she said, taking my arm and pushing it back down into place. "Slowly and gracefully."

  "I'm not a graceful person."

  She moved around in front of me. "You can do this different ways. I'll show you a few." She came to a stop with her back towards me, her feet together, and standing very straight. Then, slowly, she began lifting her left hand, her palm turned towards me, her thumb sliding up her side until finally she came to a stop with her arm raised in the air, both feet still on the floor, her fingers pointed. She held the pose for a moment before putting her arm back, almost as slowly as when she raised it.

  Then she lifted her right arm, but this time she swept her hand in front of her in a circle until it was in front of her shoulder, then she extended her arm to the ceiling.

  She went back and forth a few more times, one hand then the other, before she came to a rest, took a deep breath, then turned around to face me. We nodded to each other.

  "Pick one you like," she said. "It doesn't have to be fancy." She moved behind me again.

  I liked the first one the most, and so that's what I tried to do. I was sure I looked ridiculous. I finished with my hand in the air.

  "Splaying your fingers looks sloppy," she said. So I closed the fingers until two were pointed up. Karen stepped behind me and set her hands on my shoulders. "You feel foolish, don't you?"

  "Yes." I dropped my hand to my side.

  "That's because you're overthinking it. Try again. Don't think so hard."

  I did it again, and then a third time. Behind me, Karen sighed. "Teigan, think about this. Imagine there is a small bird above you, and if you reach too quickly, you'll scare it. You're offering it a perch so you can rescue it and take it outside."

  I nodded then reached up slowly, offering a crooked finger instead of a pointed one.

  "You're not quite high enough," Karen whispered to me. "The bird is staring at your finger, but it's young, and that's too far to jump. Tip toes." Then her hands were on my hips, the contact startling me for a moment. But I tightened my calves, moving up onto my toes. Karen steadied me.

  "Good," she said. "Really stretch now." I did, stretching as far as I could. "Good," she said. "Bring the bird down now." I lowered my hand and then imagined a bird on my finger. I covered it with my other hand, cradling it to my chest.

  "There's an imaginary window to our right. We're going to let the bird out, but if you move too quickly, you'll scare it."

  And so I moved slowly, turning to the right. I took several careful steps before Karen said, "You have to lean forward now. Hold the bird out." So I leaned forward, bent at the waist, holding both hands out.

  I still felt foolish.

  "That's not quite far enough. You need to move onto one foot. Stretch the other back behind you."

  "I'll fall."

  "I'll steady you." She stepped to my side, and I felt hands on my waist again. I lifted one foot behind me, using it as a counterbalance so I could lean forward further. "Good," she said. "Let the bird go."

  So I fluttered my hands, imagining the bird flying away. Then, slowly, I moved back to both feet, standing up straight. Then I turned to Karen.

  "I still feel ridiculous."

  She frowned then nodded. She held up a hand, and I stayed where I was. I watched as she moved back to the center of the room. She took her place facing the mirror. Then slowly she reached up. In my mind, I could see the bird. She moved onto her tiptoes, really stretching, and in my mind, I could see the bird hop onto her finger. She cradled it like I had, holding it to her chest. She looked down at her hands and cooed at the bird. Then she turned in a slow circle, one foot sweeping a larger circle on the floor, doing two full circles before she came to a stop, facing just to my right.

  She was amazingly graceful.

  Then she moved across the room, stepping, turning slowly, sweeping the floor with pointed toes, until she came to a stop on one foot, the other foot lifted well behind her, and both hands holding the bird out the window. She waved her hands, her fingers becoming wings that flapped for a moment before she slowly brought them back to her chest. She lowered her head then curled in on herself, slowly lowering her rear foot to the floor. She curled to half her height before she slowly straightened again.

  I stared the entire time.

  She paused at the end before relaxing and turning to me. "Did I look foolish?"

  "No," I said. "I could watch you for hours."

  She smiled. "Thank you. There's another bird over there."

  "It's going to have to find the window itself."

  She sighed. "All right. Let's just do some simple stretches then we'll see if we can find something that feels more natural for you."

  We moved side by side, and we did simple stretches, loosening our backs, shoulders, necks, and legs. I was more comfortable with this, although I felt terribly awkward beside Karen.

  I'd never felt awkward like this before.

  "Okay, good," Karen describe. "All right. Let's start at the beginning, your entrance." She moved to the side. "Show me what you've got."

  I winced at the thought, but I moved to the other side of the studio, turning my back on her, then I turned around. I tried to do a facsimile of an exotic dancer stepping out onto the catwalk and walking to the other end. Karen stared, her jaw dropping open.

  "What the hell was that?" she asked. "Seriously?"

  I hung my head. "I told her I couldn't do this."

  "You're trying too hard, Teigan," Karen replied. "Look. Forget everything you think this is about. Just walk."

  "Just walk?"

  "Just walk like you own the studio."

  I looked down in my feet. "In my stocking feet?"

  "Actually, take your socks off." I looked at her bare feet. "Look." She moved her feet side by side, raised up on her toes for a moment, then settled down. And then she walked across the studio.

  I'm not at all sure walk is the right word. It feels like I should use a fancier word like strode or marched or pranced. Or something. But it wasn't any of those, either.

  She turned around. "Don't try to copy me. Take your socks off, put on a little cop attitude, and walk to me."

  I lifted a foot, pulled off a sock, and threw it towards my shoes, then repeated the motion with the other. I turned away from her, putting my feet together, and took a deep breath. I turned around. I thought about Karen as someone I needed to interrogate for a case, someone who needed a little bit of intimidating, but only a little. I stood up straight, swelled out my chest, and then walked towards her, my eyes never leaving hers.

  When I arrived, she put her hands together and clapped lightly. "Perfect," she said. "I love the intensity."

  "It was just walking."

  "You're finding yourself," she said. "Do that again. Just move around the studio. Imagine there are people watching, and you want all of them watching you."

  She watched me move around, her arms folded. I finally came to a stop in front of her. "Evaline told me I have to do my best to impress her. This isn't going to cut it."

  "No," Karen agreed. She looked me up a
nd down again. "You're pretty athletic, aren't you?"

  "Yeah, I guess I am."

  "Let's try something athletic then." She led me to the far corner of the room, where a pole extended from the floor to the ceiling.

  "You can't be serious. You want me to pole dance?"

  "Have you ever seen pole dancing in recent years, or are you basing your tone on what you see in the movies?" I didn't respond. "That's what I thought. Stand back."

  She moved up to the pole, and what she did made my jaw drop. She spent the entire time spinning around, but she moved up and down the pole, in the air far more than her feet on the ground.

  It was sexy as hell, but amazing at the same time. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Finally she came to a stop facing me, one hand still clutching the pole.

  "Wow," I said. Yes, I was that eloquent. "I don't think I can do that."

  "Not your first night."

  "Don't you get burns from the pole when you spin?"

  "The pole spins, too," she said. "So no. But for you, we're going to lock the pole." And then she did that before inviting me up to "become acquainted" with the pole.

  With Karen prompting me, I worked around the pole. I continued to feel ridiculous, but I did what she said. Finally she stepped forward.

  "You look strong," she said. "I bet you can do this." She clasped the pole then climbed up, both hands hanging on as she walked her feet up the pole until they were a little higher than my knees. Then she released one hand and leaned well away, striking a pose, two feet pressed against the pole, one hand hanging on, her head back, hair dangling, and her other hand arched over her head in a graceful curve. I recognized her position from earlier, but this time she wasn't spinning around in circles. Then she climbed down and told me it was my turn.

  With Karen coaching me, I climbed the pole the same way she had. I worked slowly, but soon I was hanging backwards. "Further," Karen said. "Arch your back. Point your tits in the air."

  "Karen!" I complained.

  She laughed. "Do it. Point 'em, Teigan."

  I dropped from the bar and turned to her. "I'm not shoving my tits in the air."

  "It's not like I'm telling you to grind the pole," she said with a smirk. "Come on. You've got a great figure. Show it off."