by Nana Malone
"I hear you."
"What about you? Just looking for the latest workout craze?"
Serena laughed. "No, not exactly. I used to dance, and I too have a schmuck of an ex. So I lost my mojo a little, but I'm here and determined to get it back."
A beautiful girl with olive-caramel skin and light brown hair bounded into the studio. "What's up, divas? On your feet. Let's do this thing."
Serena's belly gave a quiver of unease. Maybe this was a bad idea. But it was too late now, she was already here, and she wasn't giving up before she started.
Lizzy leaned over with a smile. "Come on, you and I are in this together."
Yeah. Good point. At least she wasn't the only newbie. Cara took them through a thorough stretch beforehand, the whole time blaring upbeat dance numbers. She then had had everyone in the class participate in a soul train line, and at the front of the room, they had to pose and say their name.
Some of them were a bit timid at first, but by the end of the five minutes, they were all laughing and having fun and breaking a sweat.
Finally, Cara turned off the music. "Awesome, you guys! It usually takes another few minutes of soul train for everyone to relax. You guys rock my socks. Okay, so how many first-timers are here?"
Serena, Lizzy and another girl raised their hands.
"Great." Cara smiled, dimples appearing. "Then you're in for a treat." She turned on the music to old-school En Vogue, then took them through the thirty-two-count variation, each with an eight count for free-styling. She gestured toward the poles. "As you get more comfortable, I encourage you to try out some spins I teach. We'll do trick practice at the end of class."
The other new girl raised her hand. "Will I be needing my heels?"
"Good question. Not for this beginner class, but the more you do, and the more you get acclimated to this style, then yeah, we'll incorporate some of that."
After thirty minutes of dancing, touching herself, and practicing twirling around the pole, Cara took them through the trick of the evening. It was something she called a dragonfly.
Two things became glaringly apparent. One, strippers were a strong bunch, because even though she worked out, it wasn't easy for Serena to do. Her leggings certainly weren't helping the matter, making her slip and slide all over the damn thing. Next time she'd wear shorts.
Two, this was the best decision she'd made for herself in months. It had been a long time since she had laughed so much at herself. Not to mention she had a whole new level of respect for the girls and guys who worked at the club. Though she'd yet to see one of the dudes work with a pole.
At the end of class, Cara performed an advanced routine that had Serena picking her jaw up off the floor. Cara was barely taller than Serena, but had managed to shimmy up the pole and hold herself there with the strength of her core, one leg, and a prayer.
When class was over, Serena said goodbye to her new friend and approached Cara as the others were leaving. "I just wanted to say thank you so much. I haven't had that kind of fun in ages."
Cara grinned, her gray eyes dancing. "You're one of my newbies, right?"
"Yeah, Serena."
"Nice to meet you. I'm glad you had a good time. It's one of my favorite classes to teach."
"Do you have a bunch of others?" An idea took form. If she'd had this much fun, no doubt other women would too.
"Yeah, I teach another beginner class and an advanced class. And then I teach basic dance, tap, ballet and jazz. I keep busy. You've clearly had dance training."
"I've danced since I was little but stopped in college." She swallowed hard. "You know, life."
"Don't I ever." Cara packed up her stuff as they chatted and walked out. "Maybe I'll see you in class again?"
Serena grinned. "That's more than just a maybe. I'll definitely be back. I mean, I've seen the girls at work dance, but I never thought I might be able to do a fraction of what they can do."
Cara frowned. "Girls at work?"
Serena laughed, realizing how that probably sounded. "Oh right. I work at Club Prestige." When Cara's brows rose, she rushed to add, "Not that I'm a dancer or anything. I'm the accountant."
"How come you haven't asked one of the girls there to show you the moves?"
That had never actually occurred to her. She was cool with everyone who worked there, but the idea of mixing her job with trying to find her inner sex kitten didn't jive. "Nah. It was sort of on a whim, but I didn't realize I'd been missing it. Plus I certainly needed the confidence boost."
"Well, that's what my class is all about."
"Listen. I know you just met me, but we could use someone like you at Club Prestige. We have a lot of bachelorette parties come through. I'm sure some of them would love to learn how to be sexy like I just did." She put up her hands. "Sorry if that's weird or whatever, but you mentioned you teach a lot of classes, and it could pay really well… I don't know. If you have the time, maybe you could come by and check it out. If you can do what you just did with me, you could teach a whole bunch of bachelorettes how to make their future husbands very happy."
Cara laughed. "Oh, come on. You're sexy, I mean look at you. You just don't know how to tap into it. All I did was help you figure out how." She licked her lips. "Maybe we can grab some food or something and you can tell me about the club?"
Serena grinned. A friend. She loved her business partners to death, but it was nice to have a friend who she hadn't met at the worst possible time in her life. "How do you feel about Thai?"
4
Serena checked her appearance in the hall again before knocking on Tyson's door. She'd taken care with her look tonight. Casual, but not too casual. She'd ditched her usual T-shirt for a purple tunic that accented her blue eyes, and she'd gone with a pair of liquid leggings. The leather legging had been Micha's call. Serena, of course, had insisted it was too much, but Micha told her it was an outfit that worked well with or without super hot shoes. She’d taken off her trench coat in the elevator wanting him to see the full effect of the outfit.
She'd paired the pants with the taupe-and-pink shoes, and she felt pretty. Sexy even. The shoes did help. But she'd kept everything else super simple. Hair down, makeup light. Pretty much a touch of powder, some concealer and lip gloss.
Stomach churning as she knocked, she tried to calm her nerves. She'd done a million of these dinners with Tyson. He'd practically lived at her house when they were growing up, especially after his parents divorced and his mom had to work all the time. When they were one-on-one, she usually calmed down eventually and could talk to him like a normal person. The key word being eventually. Before eventually, there would be at least one stupid comment, some sweating, and stuttering was guaranteed.
Tyson opened the door with a wide smile. "Hey y—" He cut himself off and stared at her for a second. Make that longer than a second.
He stared so long that Serena shifted in her heels. "Everything okay?"
He blinked. Then blinked again. "Yeah cool. You, uh, you look great." Stepping aside to let her in, he took her trench from her and hung it in the hall closet. It didn't matter how many times she came over, he always treated her like she was a guest. Always the gentleman. Just once she'd love to see him toss that forced politeness and...well, okay, he was never going to take her up against the wall, but a girl could dream. And dream she had.
"Thanks. You can tell Micha got her hands on me."
He continued to stare at her. "I'm not sure if I should thank her or shoot her."
She frowned and looked down. "What's the matter with what I'm wearing?"
He shook his head. "Not a damn thing." His attention on her feet, he asked, "Those new?"
Serena grinned. "Yeah, I got them yesterday with Micha. Should I take them off? Sorry, I didn't think about your wood…er, floors…" Shit. "Your hardwood." OMG. FML.
He coughed. "Wood. Yeah. Uh, no, leave them on. It's fine."
What was wrong with him? He was acting weird, weirder than she normally acted.
"Okay..." She let herself into the kitchen when he didn't say a word, but kept staring at her. "Something smells great."
"Thanks. Remember two Thanksgivings ago when we went to see Xavier in New Orleans, and ate at that restaurant with the jambalaya? I begged for the recipe."
Oh she remembered. She'd gained five pounds on that New Orleans trip. She'd eaten her weight in beignets and gumbo. "How did you do that?"
"I can be charming. Come, taste this."
He held out a tasting spoon as he invited her over. On her approach, her shoes made a click-clack sound in the nearly silent kitchen. She took a taste from the fork he proffered and moaned. When her eyelids fluttered back open, his green eyes were laser focused on her again, and she could feel the intensity of his gaze. Cue the sweating.
Except, she wasn’t nervous. What she felt was closer to arousal, or more like intense awareness of him. "That's, uh, really good." To escape his stare, she took up post at his island and grabbed one of the folders sitting there with the post it 'Show Serena'.
She'd always loved this kitchen. When he'd told her he was buying this place in Logan Creek near Dupont Circle, she couldn't believe it.
She'd coveted an apartment in the neighborhood for so long, up until this year it had been well out of her price range. Tyson had worked his butt off to get here and she was proud of him. He and Xavier had been roommates at American University before Ty’d had to drop out, and Xavier had gotten the internship at Priter Investments that had launched his career. Tyson eventually had to get several roommates before getting his feet under him.
"Thank you for feeding me." It had become an agreement of theirs. He'd feed her, and she'd go over his books.
"Of course. It's the least I can do." He stirred the pot again. "Jambalaya should be ready in about ten minutes."
"Cool. So what did you want me to take a look at?"
He took the stool next to her and scooted closer. Automatically, she inhaled deeply, relishing in his scent, a mixture of spices and musk. Probably his cologne mixed with the scent of cooking jambalaya. Her mouth watered.
He pulled out the folder in the middle. "This was the one I wanted you to look through. I start classes on Monday, and this was what I wanted to use as my case study. The plan is to expand business outside of DC to the metro area and into Alexandria. I've got the capital, but maybe it's not enough. I met with the CPA like you recommended. He advised that I take the current capital I have and go bigger, but I’d like your take. I'd rather start small and take the opportunity to pay back Xavier. Sooner rather than later. Personal debts first."
She heard what he was saying, she really did. Or at least most of what he was saying, but his mouth was so close to hers that... No, focus! Serena cleared her throat. "Honestly, I'm inclined to agree with the CPA. That's why I recommended him. He's conservative, but also deals with small businesses ready for expansion. Some of this is out of my depth, but looking at your bottom line, if you want to grow, I'd agree with him. With your profits month after month, and the new clients you've taken on, I think his estimates are conservative. It means paying Xavier back a little bit later, but in my opinion, it's worth it."
He rocked back and forth on his stool. "I'd rather pay him back now."
"What's the rush? It's not like he's asking for it."
"I know. Maybe it's a pride thing."
She laughed at that. She was already starting to feel more comfortable with him. "Look, I get it. I hate the idea of owing X anything too, but he loves you. And there's no pressure."
"I know." He took the folder back. "It's an internal thing. With school starting, it's a new chapter. I want to do it on my own two feet."
She pursed her lips. "If that's what you want to do. Your projections look great, and you have them backed up with the evidence already. You don't need me to look over these for you. You've got it in the bag."
He shrugged. "I guess I trust you the most. You know this stuff, and without you, I wouldn't be here."
"Hey, I had nothing to do with that. That was all you."
"You gave me one of my first contracts, and Club Prestige remains one of my best customers."
"Hey, what can I say, strippers and liquor go together."
He wrinkled his nose. "How are you doing, anyway? I know Club Prestige is doing great, but you've always wanted to open your own accounting practice."
She laughed. That hadn't been a dream of hers in a long time.
"I can't believe you remember that." It was true, she had wanted to do that when she first got certified. She'd pictured a sedate, quiet life doing family taxes. But this was much more exciting, plus she owned a piece of something. "Not so much anymore. I love what I do at the club, and the girls and I are talking about expanding too, but probably not for a while. I mean the money is flowing in, and it's pretty crazy how much. We were in the black within our first six months of opening, so I'm amazed to be part of it."
His brow furrowed. "That is amazing. I'm just not sure how I feel about you owning a strip club."
She smacked him. "Hey, strippers are people too! And you know Club Prestige isn't really like that."
It was a premier, members-only club. They had Hollywood A-listers as members. Sure there was skin. A lot of it. But it was a different kind of establishment. She should know. She'd worked at the other end of the spectrum when she hadn’t had a lot of options. "Look, I know you and Xavier worry, but it's not like you haven't seen the club. There's nothing seedy about it."
He sighed. "I know. And obviously it's a double standard since I supply your liquor, but X asked me to look out for you, and it doesn't make either one of us comfortable with you around male strippers and club clientele all the time."
This was an old argument. "You already know I only work daylight hours. Once a week I go in to tally the numbers from the safe, and we have an armored truck do the pickup and deposit. It's totally safe and totally boring. Most of the time I never even see any of the dancers."
"I know, but let me do the big-brother thing, okay? Even if you and X are twins, I made a promise to look out for you."
She winced. "Except you're not my brother, are you?" Her irritation seeped through, and immediately she wished the words back.
He threw his hands up. "Okay, fine, brother by proxy then."
"It's not like I'm dancing in the club or anything. Okay?"
His frown morphed into a scold. "Hell no. Sorry. I just would never let that happen."
Serena raised a brow. “Let that happen?”
Tyson watched her with a singular focus and set his jaw. “You know what I mean. With X gone, I'm looking out for you. You've been stressed lately.”
She sighed. “There is this parents group that got a burr up their ass about the club. Apparently a private club is not something they want their children anywhere near. They've started petitioning to close us down, so that's stressful.”
He studied her. “Do you think they'll manage it?”
“We're fighting it. But it might get ugly. We've hired a firm, I’m working a city counsel angle and I have some ideas for publicity, so fingers crossed. I'm good at this. Maybe not much else, but this I can do, so I'm not going to roll over and die. Not without a fight.”
He cleared his throat. "Would you like to eat now?"
"Yes, and while we're at it, I'd like some cornbread for my troubles."
He laughed. "At least I know the way to your heart is through your stomach."
Nope, not even close. Much farther south. But wishing didn't make it so. She smiled up at him and held out her plate. "Feed me."
Ty walked Serena up to her apartment like he'd done every Wednesday night for the last two years. He always drove her home, even with the nightmare of finding street parking in his neighborhood when he returned.
Tonight felt different though. For starters he was nervous. He couldn't explain it. Maybe it's because you don't need X anymore. Or maybe he was seeing everything with new eyes since he was about to untether t
hat dependency on X. He hated to feel beholden, hated asking for help. All of it didn't sit well with him. He probably got that from his old man. It was the same reason the guy had run his business near into the ground before he got sick trying to do it all himself. His damn pride got in the way.
There was more than that. Something about Serena had changed. She'd always been more reserved in contrast to Micha, but she was still fun once she relaxed. Tonight, sure she was the same, but something was off. It was more than the outfit or the shoes or the makeup. She wasn't as timid. And he was having a hell of a time ignoring the pull of attraction between them. She looked comfortable, confident. Damn if that didn't make her more appealing.
Well, nothing's changed. You still can't have her.
He waited for her to unlock her door.
"Night, Serena."
"You want coffee or something?"
Yes. But he'd already been too close to her all night. His hands were trembling with the restraint required to not kiss her.
"Nah, early morning." He hugged her, relishing the way she curled into him like always. Her soft curves pressing into him. He wanted to keep her there forever. Keep her safe and shielded from the world. But she’s not yours to shield. So he let her go. He bent to kiss her cheek good night like always. Except tonight, she turned her head. Not overtly, just a hair, as if she'd meant to say something, and the corners of their lips touched.
A bolt of need ricocheted through his body, and he gritted his teeth against it. Serena froze as he jolted back. "I—" he started.
"Ty—" she whispered at the same time.
It was an accident. Liar. He didn't mean for that to happen. As if. It certainly wouldn’t happen again. I wish it would.
His brain ran through each possibility in a fraction of a second. Apologize. Back off. Close the door. Act as if nothing happened. No apology, no good night. In the car, off you go. Those were the easy options. Then in the bright light of day, they could laugh like, Hey, that kiss. That was funny, right?
Except when his two working brain cells gave the command to pull back, his stupid eyes pinned on her lips, which were still parted in surprise. Instead of going right, he went left and changed the course of their friendship, pressing his lips to hers.