Longing: Club Inferno

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Longing: Club Inferno Page 5

by Jamie K. Schmidt


  “What is it about that desk?”

  Anya shrieked and tried to break free, but Clint held her tight against him and lifted his head to shoot a glare at Istvahn.

  “Did you find out anything?” Istvahn said, ignoring Clint.

  “About what?” Anya babbled.

  “What we were talking about.” Istvahn folded his arms in front of him and glared at her. At least she thought he was glaring. It was hard to tell what he was thinking behind those glasses—which was probably why he wore them.

  Anya had to think fast. “She wouldn’t let me in, but she’s meeting me for lunch at Shira’s.”

  “What time?”

  Good question. It would be a two-hour round trip from Mallory’s shelter, not counting the exam time. “It’s a late lunch. Two thirty.”

  “Excellent.” He turned to leave.

  Inspiration hit Anya like an Acme anvil.

  “There’s one problem.”

  “Just one?” Clint drawled. She stepped on his foot as inconspicuously but as painfully as she could. He moved out of the way and pinched her ass in retaliation.

  “What?” Istvahn asked over his shoulder.

  “She’s been avoiding this guy.”

  He stopped dead and turned around. “What guy?”

  “A guy she danced with last night at Club Inferno.”

  “Last night?” Istvahn raised his voice slightly. “Club Inferno?”

  “He’s been hanging around Shira’s, thinking she works there. Maybe you could check and see if he’s nosing around?”

  “What’s his name?”

  “John,” Anya lied on the fly.

  “I’ll look into it.” He left the office.

  Anya texted NOW to Nefertiti and the race was on.

  The drive to Mallory’s shelter was spent in stilted silence and awkward glances. After they all scrambled into the car like characters from a Benny Hill skit, it was decided that the ladies should sit in the backseat. Nefertiti, for the most part, just wrapped her sweater around herself and rested her head on the window. Anya and Clint stared at each other in the passenger’s-side mirror while Max drove on the fast side of the law.

  Mallory was waiting for them when they came into the lobby. She was a mini version of Colleen in no way but personality. Mallory’s blond curls were scattered and coming out of her tight bun, whereas Colleen was always perfectly coiffed. Mallory’s scrubs had all sorts of stains on them. Colleen would toss out a garment if there was a wrinkle. The sisters had big hearts, though, and Anya felt bad about leaving Colleen out of this. But it was Nefertiti’s story. After a quick hello to everyone else, Mallory ran into her fiancé’s arms and gave Max a big kiss.

  “Come on,” Nefertiti said, dragging Mallory away from Max. “Before I lose my nerve.”

  Max smiled goofily and went to get coffee. Anya shrugged at Clint and followed the women into the exam room.

  “I feel like this is all my fault,” Mallory said as they waited for the ultrasound machine to confirm what the urine test had already said.

  “You didn’t fuck me up against a wall in time with Nine Inch Nails’ ‘Closer,’ ” Nefertiti said.

  “That’s an image I’m going to have forever,” Anya said. “So when Istvahn asks you why I blush and snicker every time he walks in the room you can let him know I’m singing, ‘I want to fuck you like an animal,’ in my head.”

  Mallory shuddered. “Thanks for the earworm. I know we didn’t force you two together, but Colleen and I made that stupid bet.”

  Nefertiti snorted. “I was already pregnant by that time. The bet just made him more shy.”

  “Shy?” Mallory said.

  “He’s actually really funny too.”

  “Pregnancy hormones have scrambled your brain.”

  “What am I going to do?” Nefertiti said.

  “Whatever you want to.” Anya held her hand.

  “I live at Couture. I’ve got nowhere to go. I mean, I’ve got some savings, but everything I have is with Colleen.”

  “What makes you think you have to go?” Mallory said.

  “I can’t stay.”

  “If I know Colleen, she’ll remodel your office so it has a nursery in it and hire a nanny.”

  “She shouldn’t have to do that.”

  “She’d want to,” Mallory said. “You and Istvahn were there for her after Alfie. You’re her family too.”

  “What about Istvahn? He’s like a baby chick.”

  “Okay, stop now,” Anya said. “For real, or I’m the one who’s going to barf.”

  “He imprinted on Alfie. When Alfie passed, Istvahn felt it was his duty to protect his widow. Truthfully, she was our friend long before she became our boss. It could kill him to leave her, leave this place that we helped create. So that means I’m the one who has to go.”

  “She’ll make him do the right thing,” Mallory said.

  “I don’t want that. I don’t want him to want me just because of the baby. And that will be just what happens. He’s got to love me for me. Want to be with me because he can’t stand being apart from me. I’m not going to settle for anything less.”

  “No problem,” Anya said, dusting off her hands. “We can do that. We’ve got a few months.”

  “Maybe less than that,” Mallory said doubtfully. “She’s almost past her first trimester. It’s going to get pretty obvious.”

  “Leave the creative dressing to me,” Anya said. “You”—she pointed to Nefertiti—“have to get Colleen on board. And it would help to be seen with a large dish of chocolates on your desk.”

  “Why chocolates?”

  “In case anyone is crass enough to wonder why you’ve put on weight, the chocolates will stop all but the truly obnoxious from asking why your face looks fuller.”

  “I can do that,” she said.

  The ultrasound technician came in.

  “We should give you some privacy.” Mallory leaned in to give Tee a hug. “Take lots of pictures,” Mallory told the tech. “Istvahn will want to see them.”

  “If you say so,” Nefertiti said.

  “Do you want me to stay?” Anya asked.

  “Hell no.”

  “Thank God.”

  Mallory went back to check on a few families. Anya wandered back to the waiting area. Max was eyeing the parking lot for gang threats or a parade of clowns—who knew? When Colleen bought the place, the neighborhood had been neglected and run-down, with hot-and-cold-running gangs. Since the clinic opened, the local gangs had backed off a bit, and slowly but surely the community was rebuilding. From what Colleen told her they even had interest in a veterinarian and a bodega moving into the empty stores next door.

  Clint looked like he was taking a nap, but he opened one eye when she sat down next to him.

  “I missed you in yoga class today.”

  “I was a little busy.” Anya fussed with her skirt while she looked at him through her eyelashes. “I’ve never seen you there.”

  “It’s because I stay in the back and stare at your rack in the mirror.”

  “That’s got to be the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard,” Anya said, but inwardly she was doing a fist pump. The girls had come through again.

  Clint shrugged. “I figured I’d come clean. Now it’s your turn.”

  “My turn?”

  “I’ve never seen you in the pool.”

  “I swim.” Anya fixed her gaze on the framed Norman Rockwell lithograph on the wall.

  “You do not.”

  “All right. I stare at your ass.”

  He grinned. “I knew it.”

  “So now what?”

  “You want to do more than look?”

  “Now?” she said. “We’ll get arrested. Unless there’s an empty examination room?” It felt good to flirt. She was high on adrenaline. She was going to make Istvahn admit he loved Tee before the baby came. She was going to get that part in the play and the hot guy. Of course, her stomach chose that moment to growl like a baby di
nosaur.

  “You eat today?” he asked.

  “I meant to grab a smoothie after the pool, but I got sidetracked.”

  “Is there a cafeteria in this place?” Clint got up.

  “No, and I wouldn’t go walking around looking for a pizza joint either,” Max said over his shoulder. He didn’t move from his vigilant pose.

  Pizza. She nearly swooned.

  Clint dug into his pants for some change. “How about a stale granola bar? My treat.”

  “I think I can make it until we get back to Shira’s.” Shira’s? What was she thinking? There was no way she’d get a bland salad there. She could kiss the falafel and hummus good-bye—too much oil, even it was the good stuff. Maybe she could get a couple of kebobs and have them hold the rice.

  Clint was snapping his fingers in front of her eyes. “Earth to Anya.”

  “Sorry, I was doing creative visualization.”

  “Were you thinking about my body?” He gave her a wide smile.

  “Yes,” she assured him with a wink.

  “Why don’t you come to my pole-dancing class tonight?”

  Anya rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that pole reminds me of the rope in gym class. I don’t have the upper-arm strength for it.”

  “You got the legs for it.” Clint leered.

  “How would you know?”

  “Well, there was the pool. But mostly because of yoga. I tried to sit in on one of your talk-dirty classes the other day, but I got so hard I was afraid to walk into the classroom.”

  Anya laughed and clapped her hands to her mouth. “You told me you had another class in the same room.”

  “I should have told you to lock the door.”

  “Why didn’t you?” she asked.

  “You might have said no.” He reached out and cupped the back of her head. He caught her lips with a playful kiss. Anya’s world tilted.

  “I won’t try pole dancing,” she said. “But pretty much that’s all I’m going to say no to.”

  “I like how that sounds. What are you doing tonight?” He played with her hair.

  “I hadn’t made plans.” Anya didn’t mean to sound breathless, but she was.

  “It’s game night in Club Inferno.”

  She swallowed hard. “What type of games?”

  “Monopoly. Parcheesi. Stuff like that.”

  “Board games, huh?” Anya stepped in closer and put her hand on the small of his back. “Sounds boring.”

  “If you be my date, I’ll bring the blindfold and handcuffs.”

  Anya’s heart was pounding so loud she would have sworn he could hear it. “Looking forward to it.”

  “Not as much as I am.”

  “Are you going to cancel at the last minute again?” she asked.

  “Not a chance.”

  Chapter Five

  They managed to get to Shira’s in time, but it was no surprise that Istvahn was waiting for them. What was surprising was the way Nefertiti and he ignored each other. Anya was able to pass on the pita bread while she ate her salad—no oil or dressing—with a vengeance. No one else seemed to notice she was coveting their couscous. It wasn’t the intimate affair she had planned, with Nefertiti picking at her baba ghanoush and Max shoveling maklouta in his pie hole like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Clint seemed happy to nosh on the hummus and shish kebob while holding her hand under the table. His thumb smoothed over her knuckles.

  When Nefertiti finished her lunch, she excused herself quietly and left. Istvahn followed a few moments later.

  “I’m going to bang their heads together,” Anya said to Clint, whom she caught staring at her neckline. “I should go too. My class is at four.” She surreptitiously undid a button and made sure to lean into him. “I’ll see you later.” Anya pressed a kiss on his forehead.

  “You’ll pay for that tonight,” he said to her, grabbing the back of her head to kiss her fast on the mouth.

  “Thanks, both of you,” she said, turning to include Max, who was still chewing.

  “Anytime,” Clint said.

  “I hope not.” Anya shuddered and practically danced to her class. She had a date tonight. Well, she had an invitation to watch Clint strip and then whatever games night in the dungeon was. That was kind of a date. It was the kind that made her all wiggly in the knees when she thought of it.

  The class was a riot and she had a good time with the role-play. There were some very quicker learners in class.

  “Just remember,” Anya said to them as they were filing out. “If you don’t know what to say, a sexy giggle works, or a deep-throated ‘oh yeah.’ ”

  “ ‘Oh yeah’?”

  Anya looked up at the door. She knew that voice. It was Satan. Actually, it was Rita Lewis. She did a double take as Rita preened and strutted into the classroom.

  “How?” Anya was seething with violence and jealousy. Rita had gone from a size fourteen to a size four. She had natural red hair that she used like a weapon. It was long and curly and hung to her ass—which was considerably smaller than it had been the last time Anya had seen her.

  “Diet and exercise.”

  Anya bit down and swallowed the “bullshit” that almost leapt out of her throat to smack Rita between her beady blue eyes.

  “You know it’s all about burning more calories than you take in.”

  “Really?” Anya smiled like she was an imbecile. “Why haven’t I thought of that? You don’t mind if I write that down, do you?”

  Rita waved her hand. “Go ahead. I’ll give you the name of my CrossFit instructor. It’s changed my life.”

  “Oh, yank the other one, Rita. It plays ‘Jingle Bells.’ ” Anya lifted her left breast at her.

  Rita laughed. “Okay. I had the surgery. But then it really was diet and exercise.”

  “Wow,” Anya said, feeling grudging respect for her archnemesis. It was brave and something she never could bring herself to do. Food was just too much a part of her life.

  “You’re looking…well,” Rita said with false sincerity.

  “Yeah, I’m happy. Want to grab a pizza? They’ve got a fantastic Italian restaurant. The handmade pasta would make you weep. And the desserts…oh, right. Sorry,” Anya said in the same imbecilic tone.

  Rita narrowed her gaze at her. “That was just mean.”

  “What are you doing here?” An awful thought hit her. “Is Cesare with you?” She absolutely could not handle seeing Cesare in Club Inferno. “Shouldn’t you be on the other side of the resort?”

  “I’ve been invited to experience the members-only side.”

  Anya was going to kick Colleen’s ass. “What do you think of it so far?”

  “I think I’m going to like it here.”

  “You and Cesare?” Damn her for making her ask twice.

  “No, Cesare and the little woman are cruising the Mediterranean.”

  “How nice for them,” Anya said between her teeth.

  “So,” Rita said, “I hear you’re up for a part in the stage version of Some Like It Hot.”

  Anya nodded.

  “Tony Curtis’s part? The drag-queen saxophone player?” Rita asked sweetly.

  “Marilyn Monroe,” Anya said, sticking out her chest. “The seductive Sugar Kane.”

  “What a coincidence, so am I.”

  Anya got up from her chair. “I’d say let the best woman win, but—”

  “Oh, she will. Cesare will make sure of it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Who do you think is one of the major investors in the project?” Rita batted her eyelashes.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Did Trey know this? She was going to kill him for keeping this from her.

  “I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” Rita cocked her head. “Actually, I would, but the beauty of it is that I don’t have to. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a pole-dancing class to attend.”

  “Knock yourself out.” Anya waved a hand. It wasn’t until after Rita disappeared that she realized
it was Clint’s class she was going to. “Over my dead body.” She wasn’t going to leave Clint alone with that bag of poison.

  Anya made it to Clint’s class first because she knew where she was going. Unfortunately, she had to stand in the back. He was that popular. Because they were on the members-only side, people were in various stages of undress. The classroom was more like a small nightclub. There was a stripper pole in the center and a small stage. Most of the audience was crowded as close to the little stage as possible, but Anya stayed with her back pressed against the wall. Rita squeezed in seconds later and elbowed her way to the front.

  Max followed her in shortly after. He winked at her as he closed the door and turned off the lights. There were a few giggles and shrieks and one long moan that had everyone laughing. Then the spotlight hit the pole. Clint, shirtless, slouched with his back to it. One hand was over his head gripping the pole and the other hand rested on his groin. Anya stared at him—and so did everyone else in the room. Then the music started.

  She had been expecting a club mix or maybe a remix of an old popular song. The instrumental saxophone hit her low in her belly. Clint slowly slid down the pole in a deep squat. He did that a few times before coming up on one leg and kicking out with the other in a martial arts move she’d seen him do in class. She could see his thigh muscles flex under the tight pants he wore. The music picked up in tempo. It was a bit more swing than jazz as trumpets entered into it. Clint danced with the pole, as if it were a partner. Then he jumped on it and turned around like he was doing a ballerina spin. Anya watched the muscles in his back and arms clench and flex as he made it look effortless. It was like he could fly.

  “Take it off, already,” Rita roared from the edge of the crowd.

  Anya frowned at her. Clint’s dancing was graceful, beautiful, and so damn sexy she could barely breathe. This wasn’t a strip joint. He was teaching a class on using the stripper pole.

  After a few more turns, Clint pointed a finger in Max’s general direction. The lights flashed again and now the music turned modern. The heavy bass beat and the drum rolls had the crowd wild. Clint bumped and ground his hips as if the pole was his lover. Anya wasn’t the only one sighing at the sight. It was a little uncomfortable to be getting so aroused in a crowd, but the darkness helped.

 

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