by Siera London
Behind the stage was a dressing room. It was more like a storage closet with a makeup mirror and costume rack. Big money had been spent on the customer’s experience, but her space was clean and neat. The smell of lavender hung in the air and the staff seemed more business-like than seedy.
Symphony wore a lace, royal blue strapless nightie with a wrap skirt that left the front of her legs exposed to mid-thigh. She absently tugged at the glove extending past her elbows. Rachel had removed her forearm bandage, and pressed pancake foundation over the angry pink flesh.
Richard had called a brief interlude after the last girl exited the stage. Symphony was shocked to see a beautiful brunette wearing nothing, but four-inch clear heels, two fists loaded down with loot, and a smile.
The girl giggled when she noticed Symphony eyeing her booty. “Hi there. They call me Bambi.”
Symphony smiled at the cheery woman. Maybe, being naked, under a spotlight, in a gentlemen’s club, wasn’t as bad as she imagined. After all, someone named Bambi worked here.
Slipping into a yellow tank top and cut-off jean shorts, Bambi continued to talk. “The bubbas and cuzzies are generous tonight.”
The boutique-sized club brimmed with people. There looked to be more than the locals in the audience. Key West felt more like a big neighborhood than a small town, so most of the locals were related and called each other cuzzies, a colorful term for cousins. Men and boys born in the Keys referred to one another as bubba.
“How… how long have you been performing here?”
“I drive down from Fort Lauderdale for the tourist season. The money I make between October and March is enough to keep me at home with my seven-year-old for the summer.”
Symphony was speechless. Tourist season strippers.
“Don’t look so shocked, Siren. We all have to make sacrifices to survive in this world.”
“How did you… know my name?”
“Richard told us ladies that you would be closing out the show.” She grinned. “Glad you came in tonight, or the rest of us would have to do another number.”
“Oh, what do you sing?”
“You got it all wrong. I just strip. My mama always said I couldn’t carry a tune or a bucket, but my looks could carry a man straight to heaven.”
Her brunette locks were up in a ponytail now. All signs of the exotic dancer tucked away in a backpack she threw over her shoulder.
“See ya tomorrow night.”
“Shouldn’t you wait around, maybe… see if you need to save the day if I wig out?”
“I heard your warm up between mine and Heavenleigh’s set. You got this.”
A small speaker mounted in the corner above the doorframe crackled with static.
“Sounds like you’re up next.”
Bambi bounced on her toes as she exited the room.
“Gentlemen, get your money ready.”
Symphony recognized Richard’s voice.
“Silken’s newest pearl, Siren is about to drain your wallets, so order another round of drinks and pay your tab before you make it rain. This little lady will lure you to your fantasy with her voice… and her body.”
Oh pumpkin pie, Symphony’s courage may have hitched a ride on Bambi’s backpack. The urge to run overwhelmed her.
“Symphony?” Rachel’s voice wafted in from the open door. It was gentle and calm, the exact opposite of everything slamming around inside Symphony’s head. “You don’t have to do this. You can stay with me until you find a place.”
Could Symphony make this sacrifice? Her mother was gone. How would she survive in this world alone? Nathan said he would stick, but for how long?
“No, I can’t.” As much as she knew Rachel cared about her, Symphony’s habits required she have her own space. Roommates that moved in with a trunk full of fire extinguishers generally wore out their welcome really quick.
Inhaling a lung full of courage, Symphony closed her eyes, envisioning her mother on stage. Give the crowd what they want and you’ll get what you need. When Rachel took both her hands and led her out of the dressing room, Symphony didn’t flinch when she heard a maelstrom of male voices. Is that Siren, she heard someone ask.
“I believe in you.” Rachel’s eyes twinkled in support.
Had anyone ever believed Symphony possessed the ability to change her circumstances? She didn’t think so. Slowly, she relaxed the furrow between her brows and cracked her lids.
The darkness surrounding the stage served to calm her frazzled nerves. Rachel had assured her; she could pull this off without one customer seeing her nude body. Symphony trusted Rachel, but more importantly, Rachel trusted Symphony. She could do this, save her home, and keep her promise to Nathan.
Eyes wide open, Symphony faced Rachel, “Queue the music.”
Symphony stepped into the spotlight.
Chapter Eight
Nathan entered the burnt shell of the Cubano Cigar Shop. The scent of charred wood and sweet tobacco filled the air. Clouds of gaseous fumes and smoke hung thick with the nighttime humidity. Little more than a shotgun shack, the shop was a holdover from the early 1900s row houses occupied by cigar factory workers migrating from Cuba when Key West was America’s top producer of cigars. Steam from the thousands of gallons pumped in to extinguish the fire settled with the weight of a wool suit against his skin.
There were shouts coming from every direction, but from the pace of activity, there were no human fatalities. Cutler and Trace greeted Nathan with a somber nod of the head.
“This is wrong, Nate, man.” Cutler’s voice was ripe with pinned up frustration.
Nathan knelt down with his eyes trained on the burn pattern outlined on the concrete floor.
“Someone is setting these fires. There’s nothing flammable or combustible at the fire’s origin,” Cutler said.
“I know. The pattern is the same modus operandi at the law office.” Nathan had logged in and reviewed the case file.
Trace, the proverbial strong silent type, weighed in. “Is it possible there’s an arsonist that decided to vacation in the Keys this winter?”
As ludicrous as the suggestion sounded, it was a possibility.
“How do we find this guy?” Cutler asked.
Nathan treaded his fingers through his hair, wishing he was back in Symphony’s RV getting lost in her warm body. Whoever the guy was, he was experienced. No witnesses, no casualties.
“Either he’ll mess up and leave a clue, Nathan offered, “or someone will see something and tip us off.”
Cutler released a string of expletives. “How many businesses do we lose in the process?”
“I’ll do some research on fires in the last twelve months, see if I can get a lead on where this guy may have been before arriving on the island.” Nathan turned in the direction of his truck.
“Where are you headed, man?”
He looked at his clothes. A layer of ash covered him in a thick blanket. “To the station to clean up, and then to Symphony’s.”
“You trying to win her over?”
“Battle’s already won, my friend.”
“Maybe I should be the one to start researching this case? I have the rest of the night to do some digging and I can pull criminal records.” Trace volunteered.
Like him, Trace had completed the public safety curriculum. The training included twenty-six weeks at the police academy, sixteen weeks of fire training, and six weeks of emergency medical training. They both could conceal carry and make arrests.
“Fine with me. There’s a link between the law office and the cigar shop.”
“I’ve got your back,” Trace said as he and Cutler turned away.
“Thanks, brother.” Nathan climbed into the truck’s cab. Trace would start to investigate the link between the two fires. One person, two fires that they knew of. There was always a connection when he chased the flames. Nathan would find the connection.
As he put the truck in gear and pulled onto Duval Street, heading west, he thought ab
out his connection with a certain butterscotch beauty with blue hair. He’d find a way to keep her connected to him, too. He had to. His heart was involved and there was no way in burning hell he’d lose Symphony Porter.
***
Symphony’s hand shook. She folded one leg against the side panel of the RV to quell the jelly-like sensation in her lower body. The deed was done. She’d shed her clothes for hungry-eyed men with fans made of the almighty dollar. Instead of a pea under her mattress, Symphony had another one thousand and forty-six dollars.
A tight-lipped Richard glared at the sheer flesh-tone body suit that Rachel had her wear beneath the corset, but the men showered her with more money than she’d ever seen when she spun around and flashed her bejeweled G-string. When the crowd demanded an encore, he’d reluctantly shooed Symphony back on stage. Three songs later, she had earned in one night what it would have taken her seven days to earn at the bar.
The petite honey-scented cigarillo she held called to her. With the roll of her thumb across the striking wheel of her lighter, the flame appeared. As the orange blue glow invaded her field of vision, its sultry wave of heat burned bright, filling her six-course meal. Symphony raised the tobacco-filled sedative to her nose, melting into a relaxed posture as the tension left her limbs.
“Sweet light.” The flutter of her insides settled as the familiar scent of burning tobacco filled the surrounding air, cocooning her from the outside world. What would she say to Nathan when he asked about her disappearing from the bar?
Symphony closed her eyes, and inhaled, using the calm the fire brought to push against the rising storm of seeing Nathan again. Claudia had sent Rachel a text after he left the bar. When he’d come looking for Symphony.
“Hey, Blue.”
Symphony jumped. Her eyes flew open.
Nathan walked toward her, his stride smooth and sensual. Her body heated at the sight of him. She realized her place in Nathan’s life was under silent attack. What if she scented of Perfume au de Stripper?
She’d sloshed water in every crevice and fold once she arrived home. Hopefully, all evidence of the Silken Pearl had dissolved on contact and circled down to a watery grave.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
They faced off, neither of them moving. Nathan did a slow scan of her body from head to toe. She smiled to herself at the possessive gleam in his eye, but saw worry there, too. He worried over her?
Immediate guilt assailed Symphony. For the first time in her life a man wanted to be available to her, and what had she done—taken a job as a stripper—a job he would not support her doing. While Nathan surveyed his territory, Symphony did some body-mapping of her own.
“I didn’t hear you come up, that’s all.”
He nodded in the direction of the lit cigar in her hand.
“Late night smoke break or were you waiting up for me?”
His eyes narrowed like her response to his question was a serious matter.
“Hoped I’d see you again.” It was the truth. Out of the corner of her eye, she’d watched him, watching her as she worked the tables last night. He’d talked with Adam, then he’d left without a word. There was a silent moment of panic. It terrified her how much she wanted their relationship to work. To her relief, Nathan had approached her. Max needed a walk and he needed to do some work he explained. He’d swing by her place and pick up Cujo.
A smile formed at one corner of his mouth.
“Yeah, me too… I missed you at the bar.”
She hesitated, “How’s Max?”
Symphony bent, pressed the lit end of the cigar against her white cinderblock ashtray. She gazed at his powerfully built legs covered in lazy denim, before moving higher and fixating on the bulge in his pants. Why did he have to be sexy as hell and tempting as sin? She was already imagining him naked with her astride him like a rhinestone cowgirl. Oh, she was already having stripper thoughts.
“You see something you want, Blue?” He grinned as he swept her into his arms. “Max is fine. He told me to tell you hi.”
For a second, she froze, the secret like a boulder in her shoe, the pain preventing her from taking another step.
Nathan closed the distance between them, pressing into everywhere he could fit.
He was solid everywhere their bodies touched, warm muscle, hard and giving under her fingers.
“Relax, baby. You’re stiff as a j-pipe.”
“Ah… sorry.”
“It’s cool,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “Didn’t think we’d be at the awkward phase of our relationship on day two.”
“It’s been a long night… guess I’m tired.”
“Let me see what I can do about that.”
Nathan took her mouth in a long, slow kiss that curled her toes under and tickled more than the bottom of her feet. Symphony felt moisture dampen her panties. She tried to clamp her legs closed, but Nathan’s hand on the soft curls of her mons stopped her.
“Nathan,” she gasped.
“Love my name on your lips.”
He pressed a finger inside her and Symphony moaned her pleasure.
“Say it again.”
“Nathan.”
“I told you I missed you.”
He made several small circles over her clit and Symphony spread her legs wider, granting him better access. “Did you miss me?”
“Of course I did.” She had done little but think of him. Even while on stage, it was his ruggedly handsome face she pictured in her mind’s eye.
“Then why did I have to coax a response out of you?”
“Not…so,” she moaned as he increased the pressure on her pleasure button, causing the beginnings of her orgasm to move closer to the surface. “I… I was about to—” The rest of her words were lost as Nathan covered her mouth with his as she screamed her release.
Panting, Symphony found her voice. “You shouldn’t be doing stuff like that to me outside,” she chastised, still gyrating her hips, squeezing out every sensation from her orgasm.
Nathan slid his fingers free of her body. Fingers glistening with her juices. Then he did something that had her coming again. His fingers did a slow disappearing act into his mouth.
She moaned at the carnality of seeing him take the very essence of her into his body.
He seemed to feast on his fingers, his eyes half-lidded as he stared into her reddening face. When he was done, he bent and licked her lips before pushing back into her mouth. Symphony trailed her fingers through his thick locks, gripping his head to hold him closer to her.
Nathan broke the kiss.
“Pack a bag.”
“What for?”
“Max.” He looked at her like he’d spoken a paragraph.
“And now folks, here’s the rest of the story.” Symphony threw up her hands.
“He’s at home alone. We had an unplanned sleepover last night. I figured you’d want your things with you at my place.”
Symphony tucked her head, not wanting to trigger any questions about last night.
“Sure,” she whispered. So, their time together would be on a night by night basis. Her heart thudded in her chest. She shouldn’t feel disappointment, but she did. This was a huge gamble for her, gosh, if he really was hers. Maybe this way was for the best. When… if he left, it would be easier for me to pick up the pieces.
“Come stay with me tonight and we can walk Max in the morning.”
She would stay with him every night, if he asked. Enjoy the moment, she told her herself as she climbed the stairs to pack.
***
Nathan’s mom had loved this house. He hoped Symphony had the same reaction to seeing his home. The heather gray two-story house sported an “A” frame with a two-car garage beneath, and a metal roof that annoyed the heck out of Nathan if there was heavy rain. His mother had the yard professionally manicured before she died, with mat-black solar-powered lights front and back. The front yard held a curved aluminum canopy large enough to house his pickup truck, a
thirty-foot boat, and Max’s kennel. Since Symphony had the RV, he guessed his boat’s spot would become RV parking when Symphony… came to visit or moved in. Was he considering asking a woman he’d met little more than twenty-four hours ago to stay?
Symphony toyed with the wood shavings on his workbench while he hunted for the house key.
“What’s all this, Nathan?”
“I dabble in woodwork.”
“Oh yeah… I wish I had some kind of talent like that. Something I could use to take care of myself, you know… be proud of.”
Her voice sounded distant. When Nathan looked back, she had a pained expression on her face.
“We could make an exchange,” he said, wiggling his brows.
“Hey,” she slapped his arm. “I’m not that type of girl.”
“You think like a bad girl. Teach me how to cook a few firehouse meals for me and I’ll teach you woodwork.”
Inserting the key in the lock, Nathan pushed the door open, and then stepped aside for Symphony to enter before him.
Max greeted them at the door, tail wagging and dancing paws across Symphony’s feet.
“Hey, Cujo,” Dropping to her knees she scratched Max’s scruff. Like a smart pooch, he sat back on his haunches to absorb the affection turned in his direction. Lucky dog.
Though Max belonged to the fire department, Nathan couldn’t imagine his home or his life without the overactive canine. Max had taken to Symphony like sand to the beach and Nathan felt a ping in his chest as he saw his life complete with this woman and his dog.
Symphony came to her feet, glancing around the living room. She looked around the quaint living space. Her head swinging left, then right, before it returned to the center. Eyes glued to the view off the back of the house.