StriporTreat

by Jana Mercy

  “I’m sure that’s what he did.”

  “Why?”

  “He was asking for extra work.”

  Elvis shrugged. “Guess he’s trying to impress her. Sophia’s a class act. Used to fancy beaus. Gray’s probably feeling a little insecure.”

  Gray insecure? Madame G shook her head. Men could be so obtuse at times. Still, she only said, “Maybe.”

  “Sophia didn’t tell you that she’s hound-dogging with Gray?” he asked.

  “She didn’t have to tell me. I’d have had to be blind not to realize what was going on between those two.”

  “True.”

  “Do you think he’s using her?” She clasped her fingers with his.

  “For sex? You’ve seen how women launch themselves at him. He could have his pick of the club most any night.”

  “Why did he pick Sophia?”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “True. Do you think he has feelings for her?”

  Elvis shrugged. “Not sure it matters with that boy. When he’s ready to move on, whether or not he has feelings for Sophia won’t come into play.”

  “You think he’ll hurt her?”

  “Don’t you?”

  Elvis was right. No matter how much Gray appeared smitten with Sophia, he wouldn’t stick around. At which time Sophia’s heart would be broken. She’d be vulnerable for the vultures to move in. Speaking of vultures.

  “We’ve got to protect Sophia.”

  “From Gray?”

  “From Ken, you idiot.” Have a stroke and the world went batty around you. “If he hurts her, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “He’s not been back to the club and is avoiding me like a rabbit during a dog hunt.”

  A dull throbbing started in her temples. The first headache she’d had since the day she’d arrived at the hospital.

  “I should have taken him out in a field and taught him the true meaning of rock and roll and why they call me the King.”

  “I know why they call you the King and it has nothing to do with anything other than what’s inside your boxers.”

  Elvis’ head plopped back against the hospital bed. Despite the wrinkles time etched onto his face, he was still the most handsome man she knew.

  “I know.” He sighed. “But I should have faced the music I made instead of letting you dance to his tune.”

  She placed her hand over his. “No. I won’t let you take the blame. I make my own choices. Just as Ken does.”

  “But it’s my fault you’re involved in this.”

  They’d argued about this many times. She wouldn’t push the point. They’d only end up agreeing to disagree.

  “Gray wants a side job,” she mused. “Maybe I should hire him to watch out for Sophia. Hopefully, Ken will lie low for a while and take that greedy accountant friend with him.”

  “Speaking of the accountant, Sophia’s been working on your books.”

  “What?” Nothing good could come out of Sophia going through those blasted books.

  “I told her you paid someone to do them so I don’t think she’ll bother with them anymore. Especially now that Gray’s taking up all her free time.”

  She patted Elvis’ hand, squelching the worry within her. There wasn’t much she could do at the moment anyway. But if Gray did come back tomorrow, she’d definitely offer him a job. To keep a close eye on Sophia. Ken might want revenge for Sophia firing him and taking him out of the Strip or Treat spotlight. And, in the process, taking him off her overly generous payroll.

  Plus, Sophia needed to be too busy to give the accounts and her accountant another thought. Gray was just the man to keep her occupied.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Who’s there?” Sophia almost threw open the apartment door in hopes Gray had returned from whatever errand he’d run. Common sense stopped her.

  “It’s James Hooper.”

  Did she know a James Hooper? She peered through the peephole. A rakish thin man who looked to be about forty-five stood outside the door impatiently eyeing his fashionably slim gold watch. Every movie she’d ever seen with a Mafia twist flashed into her head, causing the tiniest of neck hairs to stand at full attention.

  She hadn’t heard Gray come back up the stairs. If she needed help, no one would hear her. She squeezed the doorknob, undecidedly. Should she open the door?

  Lord, just look at her. She’d never been this paranoid while living in Atlanta. Of course, she’d lived with her parents in a snazzy Atlanta neighborhood but the incident with Ken had rattled her more than it merited. Her imagination was apparently working overtime.

  “Who are you?” she called through the door.

  “I’m here to do the books.”

  Sophia squinted through the peephole for a closer look. Could this be the person responsible for the discrepancies in her aunt’s books? That sure didn’t reassure her about letting him inside her aunt’s apartment.

  “Miss Walker, I do not have all day.” He checked his watch again, tapping his foot impatiently while he waited on the opposite side of the door.

  What was she to do? And how did he know her name? Aunt Genevieve must have given it to him. Taking a deep breath, Sophia unlatched the lock and opened the door. “Mr. Hooper.”

  The man’s eyes widened while he checked her out. The guy gave her the total creeps. “Call me James.”

  Maybe the worry of not knowing if he was robbing her aunt played into the image but from his slicked back dark hair to his pencil-slim mustache, James Hooper personified Sophia’s Hollywood created image of a Mafia bad guy. Yep, her imagination was in overdrive.

  Forcing a smile, she held out her hand. “Sophia Walker.”

  “Sophia.” She half-expected him to kiss her hand in some grand gesture but he barely shook it. “The pleasure is all mine.”

  Sophia just smiled. “What can I do for you, Mr. Hooper?”

  “It’s James and I can think of lots of things you could do for me, Sophia but,” he glanced at the gold band on his wrist yet again, “I don’t have time for any of those things today. I’ve come to pick up the books.”

  “The books?” Why would he pick up the books?

  “Yes. I pick them up at my convenience, update the records and then return them the following Monday. This is how things have always been done.” His speech rushed out with more than a little annoyance at having to explain himself.

  “Why not do them here?”

  His narrowed gaze snapped to hers. “Because I do them at my office. Your aunt prefers not to pay the extra fees involved in my reconciling her accounts on the premises.”

  “Makes sense.” Still, she couldn’t see letting some stranger walk off with her aunt’s records. But then, it didn’t really make sense if he had to come out of his way to pick the books up. How could that save money or time? Did Aunt Genevieve usually bring the books to him? An idea struck. “You’ll excuse me while I call Aunt Genevieve to verify your request.”

  An impatient sigh heaved from his thin frame. “If you must.”

  “I must.” Keeping the accountant in sight, Sophia rang her aunt’s hospital room. “Aunt Genevieve, there’s a gentleman here, a Mr. Hooper, who says he’s to pick up the account books for Heavenly Hunks.”

  “James is there today?” Her aunt’s voice raised two notches and slurred more than normal. “He isn’t due until the first week in November.”

  “Yet here he is.”

  Silence, then a rushed, “If he’s there, give him whatever he needs.”

  Sophia frowned. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” Uncertainty and concern played heavily in her aunt’s tone. “Is Gray with you, Sophia?”

  Why did she think Aunt Genevieve wanted her answer to be yes?

  “No, why ask?” Sophia watched Mr. Hooper wander to a shelf lining one wall. Idly, he ran his finger over the smooth edge of an embracing lovers statue. As if he’d never seen the work of art before. Odd if he picked up the books every month. But then, may
be he generally only met Aunt Genevieve in the small office downstairs. Which is where the books were kept. Except for when she’d lugged them around in her over-sized purse. Like the night she’d hit Gray.

  “No reason.” Her aunt lied. “Give James the books. Whatever he wants.”

  Sophia hung up the phone and turned to the man who cast a curious eye around the apartment. “If you’ll follow me downstairs, I’ll retrieve the books for you.”

  The man smiled and his Hollywood sinister expression struck Sophia once again, giving her the heebie-jeebies.

  * * * * *

  “So how goes it, Erickson?” The sassy redhead slithered into one of the man’s hand bar chairs.

  “Better now that you’re here,” he quipped, hoping like hell Sophia didn’t show up at the club any time soon. She’d run some errands and hadn’t made it back before he went on duty. She wouldn’t be happy Joey returned to the club. Maybe he should ask Lawrence to get another female for this particular case. Then again, he couldn’t think of any other female agent he preferred to watch his back than the one glaring at him. “What can I get for you?”

  Her green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Coke and Jack. Heavy on the Jack.”

  He mixed her drink and felt her gaze watching his every move.

  “Meant to ask you the other night and I got sidetracked but what’s this I hear about you taking off your clothes Saturday night?”

  He inwardly winced but kept his face straight. “You planning to be here?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she snickered. “Several pals decided to take in the show as well once they heard what you were doing.”

  “Really?” He’d halfway hoped no one would show tomorrow night and he’d get out of the stripping session yet. Ah well, it had been a long shot. “Why would they want to watch me strip?”

  Joey snorted in a most unladylike fashion but then she didn’t give a flying rat’s ass what anyone thought of her actions. Never had that he knew of.

  “Are you kidding? They wouldn’t miss this for the world.” She grinned and leaned forward. “Several of the guys have threatened to go drag so they can watch too.”

  He should have known.

  “Lawrence really liked the drag idea and assigned two to go undercover.”

  “Who?” Not that he couldn’t guess.

  She grinned again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  Like he didn’t already have a darn good idea. “I asked, didn’t I?”

  “Conners.”

  Conners. And Bird, he’d bet. Hell, for this, Lawrence might put in an appearance too. Not that the director would go drag. Not even for a case.

  “Several of them offered to pay a pretty penny to catch the show.” Joey twirled a fiery red coil around her finger. “I may sneak in a camera to record the whole thing. Bet you’d bring top dollar.”

  “No cameras allowed.” Otherwise he’d never live this down. Not that he would anyway.

  “Yeah, well, any camera I brought in wouldn’t be visible, now would it?”

  “No cameras and I mean it.”

  Silently, she eyed him with her narrowed green eyes. Upturning her glass, she took a long swallow of the whiskey and Coke. Gray’s throat burned just from watching her.

  “If I decide to record you, no one would know, including you, stripper boy.”

  “That’s Erickson to you.”

  Looking around to be sure no one paid any attention to them, she rolled her eyes.

  “Guess I should go back out there and pretend like I’m enjoying myself. Tough job but some woman has to do it.” She shot him a glare. “Hurry things along, would ya? I’m losing patience and so is bossman. You know what he’s like when he gets testy. People lose their heads.”

  Her know-it-all expression irked him and when she turned her back to leave the bar, Gray grabbed her arm, stopping her from sliding off the barstool. “Yeah, well, rushing a job can make people lose their heads too. Don’t forget that I know what I’m doing.”

  Joey turned around. A bright smile shone from her face when she leaned over the bar, flirtatiously to anyone who happened to look but her eyes had gone cold. “Quit drawing attention to me, Erickson. What’s with you? You’re acting like an amateur. I’ll see you, all of you, Saturday night. It’s been a while and I plan to enjoy myself a great deal. At your expense.”

  She laughed and weaved her way into the crowd before he could stop her.

  She wanted to watch him suffer. No doubt about it.

  * * * * *

  The redhead walked past Sophia and sent her a catty smile. Although she’d like to scratch the woman’s gorgeous green eyes out, Sophia refused to acknowledge she’d seen the woman talking with Gray. At least not to the redhead. However, she headed straight for the bar. Straight to Gray.

  “Hey.” She slid into the seat the redhead vacated only moments before.

  “Hey yourself.” He grinned. “Want something to drink?”

  “Some Sex on the Bar—er, I mean, some Sex on the Beach would be great.” She winked, knowing her words would fill his mind with her and her alone. His groan told her she’d been right. Take that, Little Miss Redhead.

  God, she behaved cattily. Totally unlike herself. But she wouldn’t let the redhead make moves on Gray. Not without a fight.

  When she stepped into the bar and saw the woman once again flirting with Gray, she wanted to scream. When Gray stopped the woman from leaving, she hoped he told her he wasn’t available.

  “Kiss me.” She hadn’t really meant to ask that but now that she had, she wanted his lips on hers. To stake a claim? Definitely. Bad Sophia.

  Gray hesitated. Looked uncomfortable even. “Now? Here?”

  Had his gaze just slid to the redhead? Was he checking to see if she watched?

  “Yes. Please.” Did he not want to kiss her in front of the other woman? Uh-oh. She meant to stake a claim, not jam a stake through her own heart. “That is, if you want to,” she added.

  “You know I do, babe.”

  She wanted to believe the sincerity in his eyes. Wanted to but wasn’t quite sure she did. “Then why is your mouth so far from mine?”

  His steely gaze didn’t waver. “You know I’m not into public displays.”

  She refused to shift her weight or to look away from the intensity of his eyes. “Do I know that?”

  “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But it’s true.”

  Time to lay it on the line. “Are you ashamed to kiss me in public, Gray?”

  “No.” His lips tightened. “Just want what’s between us to be kept private.”

  She tapped her nails against the bar. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t find that comment reassuring?”

  “Aw hell.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “This isn’t a good idea.”

  “Kissing me isn’t a good idea?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’ll walk around with a hard-on for the rest of the night.”

  That’s why he hadn’t wanted to kiss her? And here she’d been thinking… She smiled. Her most seductive smile. At least that’s what she aimed for.

  “Uhm. That would be bad, wouldn’t it?” she teased while she ran her gaze down his sculpted chest. Swirls of feminine heat stirred, making her uterus contract in utter awareness of his masculinity.

  “Very bad.” He put her drink on the bar in front of her. “It’s on me tonight.”

  “Oh really?” Sophia arched her brow, purposefully misunderstanding him. “Like it was on me last night?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed and he swallowed so hard she’d swear she heard it over the Prince lyrics blaring over the sound system. “Now you’ve gone and done it.”

  “What?” she asked innocently, dipping her finger into her drink and sucking off the juice in a wickedly suggestive motion. Hopefully, visions of the night before still danced in his head. And in his shorts.

  “Come here.” He crooked his finger toward he
r, his gaze fixated on where her mouth encircled her finger.

  “Why?” she teased, knowing what he wanted.

  “’Cause I’m going to kiss you.”

  “But I thought—” Her gaze skimmed over the flat planes of his abdomen to where the light tracing of hair disappeared into the satiny shorts he wore. The bar hid him until he shifted to give her a full glimpse of his groin. “Oh my.” She fanned herself. “Who just turned up the heat?”

  He leaned back against the bar. “It’s fixing to get even hotter. Scorching hot.” A light twinkled in the smoky depths of his eyes. “Wanna come hide behind the bar with me?”

  Sophia glimpsed around the crowded bar. He was kidding, right? Then the thought of actually being behind the bar, doing the things to his body that she’d done the night before—yum. If only the other bartenders weren’t there and the mirror behind the bar wouldn’t broadcast her image to anyone who happened to look. Still…

  “I’m willing if you are,” she surprised them both by saying.

  “Hot damn. You’re going to be the death of me.” He stretched forward and plopped a quick kiss on her lips. “I’m going on break in ten minutes.”

  “Really?” Was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting?

  “Yep.”

  She stuck her finger in her drink again and repeated sucking the juice. “Why tell me?” She batted her lashes and hoped she didn’t look foolish. “I’m just a customer.”

  “Ah but a special customer. We established that last night. I think it’s time for another private lesson.”

  “Private?” She glanced around at the club crawling with wall-to-wall women. “The place is packed.”

  “Then I guess we’ll just have to be creative, huh?”

  “Aunt Genevieve’s apartment,” she whispered. She had an inspired idea. Oh my.

  “What about it?”

  “I’ll be waiting.” She tilted forward and mouthed the word “naked”.

  “Hell fire.”

  “Yep, that’s about how hot I am for you.” She took one last sip of her drink, then licked the sticky sweetness from her lips. “Come put my flames out, Gray.”