Ryan loved kids. He’d want them some day. She owed him the truth.
She must have fallen asleep at some stage because she woke hours later when Ryan tugged back the curtains. His phone rang, and she heard him murmuring to someone.
“I don’t believe it.”
Julia rolled over. “What? What is it?”
“The woman has served legal papers on Seymour. I need to take care of this.”
“Now?”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. What time is your flight?”
“Midday.” Julia thought rapidly. “You’ll be back in Auckland after the extra concert next Saturday, right?”
“Yeah.” He sat on the bed beside her, his expression tight and worried. “I don’t want to go.”
“I don’t want you to leave either, but the sooner this is done, the sooner we can move on. You go and see Seymour, and I’ll get myself to the airport.” She paused and swallowed before looking him straight in the eye. “We’ll get through this, Ryan.” Although upset, she manfully held her stuff together and was glad she did.
His smile was a bright thing of beauty. It stole her breath and made her anxious at the same time. The little voice at the back of her mind told her, now! She should tell him now.
She couldn’t.
She didn’t.
Instead she returned his smile, let him kiss her goodbye, burying the truth deep down inside and pretending waiting to hear news of a child—Ryan’s child—didn’t matter.
Chapter Eleven
Back in Auckland, the week dragged. Julia spoke with Ryan on the phone each morning and most nights too. They chatted about the club, about his music and the tour and skirted the topic sitting like a dinosaur between them. Heck, there was no point discussing it until Ryan heard the results of the DNA test.
Her phone rang. “Julia, have you seen the paper this morning?” Maggie asked.
Something in her friend’s tone sent a frisson of warning darting through her in a pinball fashion.
Ryan. The baby. It was bad news.
“No, I never have time to read the papers.”
“Where are you?” The urgency in her friend’s voice confirmed her fears.
Julia squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m at the club. I wanted to run through the routine for the fan dance on the stage again. Susan will be here any minute.”
“Wait there for me,” Maggie said. “Connor and I are on our way.”
Julia hung up, forcing her mind away from Ryan and their problems. Someone knocked on the front door, and she went to answer it. Susan rushed inside, her cheeks blooming with health. She was looking good these days.
“I’m so psyched about this dance. I thought I’d be petrified, but it’s such a tease. I can’t wait to do it the first time in public.”
Julia nodded, forcing her mind into a reboot. Focus. “Me too. I hope the crowd will enjoy our new routine.”
“They will. We’re getting good numbers through the door each night. The bank overdraft has disappeared.”
“Maggie and Connor are on their way,” Julia said. “You ready to rehearse your number?”
“Yep.” Near the stage Susan tossed off her coat to reveal her leggings and tight T-shirt beneath. She vaulted onto the stage, grabbed her white feather fans from the dressing room and returned. Julia started the music and watched Susan go through her moves.
“A bit slower at the start,” she suggested. “Make each move subtle and languorous. Speak with your hands and your eyes to the audience. Yes! Perfect.” When the music came to a crashing crescendo and faded, Julia clapped. “You will wow them tonight.”
Someone hammered on the front door, and Julia’s phone rang. Maggie, she saw when she glanced at the screen. “That’s Maggie and Connor. I’ll let them in.”
One look at their concerned faces, and she realized it was bad. She stood aside and wordlessly gestured for them to enter. After shutting and locking the door behind them, she turned to them again. “It’s Ryan’s kid.”
“Yes. Wait, you knew?”
“Ryan and I talked about it last Saturday. How old is the kid?” She held her breath, not sure she wanted to hear the answer. Ryan had remembered the woman and said her story sounded legitimate. The worry in his voice had amped up her own fears. Now the truth thumped her like a death blow.
“They say he’s almost three,” Connor said.
Julia’s shoulders slumped while she groped for mental control. Okay. Everyone had things in their past—mistakes—that came back to haunt them. Lots of people had illegitimate kids, and they dealt with the problem. Ryan had said the woman was probably after money. Ryan had enough not to miss giving some away. “Is there anything else?”
“No, just speculation about Ryan’s identity.”
“Is the woman’s name mentioned?”
“She’s referred to as Leah K,” Maggie said. “I doubt it’s her real name.”
“Okay.” Julia walked past them and grabbed her fans off the stage. Not the time to think about this now. She had to hold herself together until she was alone. “Since you’re here, you can critique my routine. Music please, Susan.”
Julia spoke crisply, not giving her friends a chance to comment or speculate further. Fiercely concentrating on the here and now, the things in her control, she sucked in a deep breath while waiting for the opening notes. The sultry tones of the popular old song from the thirties rang through the club, and she flowed into her routine. She was the lady in the song, seductive and sensual, arms flashing. Teasing. Each flutter of the fans designed to conceal yet reveal, erotic tension at its best. She became one with the music, strutting, kicking her legs while keeping the fans in constant movement. The song came to an end and she stilled her two fans in front of her body, a little out of breath with the exertion of the dance.
For a long moment, not one of her friends made a sound, then the three of them starting talking together.
“That was amazing,” Maggie said.
“You make me look like an amateur.” Susan’s breathless opinion.
“Sex with clothes on,” Connor added.
“Imagine Julia’s act with the right lighting and when she’s in costume.” Susan went up on stage and gave her a swift hug. “You will wow the crowd tonight.”
Julia kept busy for the rest of the day, and each time her mind wandered to Ryan, she yanked it back to work. She checked the books, did the roster for the following month and cleaned up the dressing room. She rang her mother, who’d come through heart surgery well, and popped out to visit her in the hospital. If she kept moving, her fears wouldn’t catch up with her. She wouldn’t stare at her phone, waiting and wondering why Ryan hadn’t rung her.
One by one the staff arrived. When she walked outside to open the front doors and do her normal stint of meet and greet, she found a line. The cool breeze snatched away her startled laugh.
“Good evening,” she said to the group of women standing at the front of the queue. She recognized them from the previous weekend. “Thanks for coming back. Go straight on inside.”
“Thanks!” one woman said as she and her friends wobbled through the doors on their skyscraper heels, delicate and musky designer perfumes combining into an original bouquet.
“We love Maxwell’s,” the last of the women said. “It’s so classy.”
“Thank you.”
She greeted the next couple with a smile and nodded to several customers who’d visited the club during the previous week. Repeat customers. They were doing something right.
After half an hour Julia strolled back into the club and watched one of her acts with a critical eye. She nodded when the music ended, unsurprised by the enthusiastic applause. The girl was good. She checked her watch and headed for the changing room.
As usual, it was a cacophony of noise and dancers and color. Comforting and accepting. Julia dropped onto a chair in front of a lighted mirror and added more eye makeup. She pulled her hair out of the upswept do she’d started with and bushed i
t until the blonde strands glowed under the lights.
“All ready?” Susan asked.
Julia nodded, shrugging aside the unease that had crept inside her while she sat still. “Let’s do it and get the crowd warmed up for our special acts tonight.”
After her first routine, the evening passed in a flash. She rang Janet and ask how her mother was doing.
“She’s doing great,” Janet said. “The doctors are pleased with her recovery and say she should be out of hospital sooner than they’d envisaged.”
“That’s great news! Give her a hug for me, and tell her I’ll pop in to see her tomorrow morning.”
Julia mingled with customers and soon she was ready to introduce her new act with Susan performing straight afterward.
The onstage lights dimmed. Julia walked silently into position, despite the spiky heels of her red shoes, despite the faint tremor of her knees. She struck a pose, caught her breath and waited. The spotlight snapped on, enclosing her in a beam of light.
The aliens have got me. The fanciful thought curved her lips, and just like that her nerves settled.
She could do this.
The musical introduction started. Her fans fluttered above her head, showing the audience her sparkling black and red bra top and matching long skirt. The light caught the sequins, her sashaying steps displaying the long length of her legs, encased in fishnet stockings.
The vocalist crooned, his husky voice coming faster as the song swelled around her on the stage. She strutted, swayed, created mesmerizing patterns with each swish of her feather fans, yet never revealing her torso to the audience. Her back arched. She stripped the skirt off with one quick twist of her wrist. The silky fabric sailed toward the wings, one of the other dancers whisking it off the floor.
Julia glanced at the audience, those seated in the front near the stage. They weren’t talking. They weren’t drinking. They were watching her with avid attention.
The sultry music ebbed and flowed, the singer’s voice a husky croon slithering through her veins. The front closure of her bra top opened with a flick of her fingers and her breasts spilled free. She tossed the top into the audience and winked toward the man who caught it. Her feather fans fluttered, teasing. Always moving, yet never revealing her bare breasts.
The singer held the last note of the song before tailing off. Silence fell. Julia bowed, fans concealing her partial nudity. The crowd remained quiet, and the only audible sound was the pounding of her heart.
Frowning, she straightened, peering out at the shadowed club. Hadn’t they enjoyed her dance? Had she misjudged her audience? She opened her mouth to ask where she’d gone wrong. Then she noticed her customers standing. The applause and cheering was the sweetest music she’d ever heard.
Ryan stood in the back of Maxwell’s with Caleb at his side. Awe battled with an edgy side of jealousy as he stared at his wife gliding about the stage. Although the fans screened her body, he realized she was almost naked. Hell, every red-blooded male in the room knew her breasts were bare, their lustful thoughts almost deafening him.
“Your wife has spoiled me for every other woman,” Caleb said. “I wish she had a sister.”
The roar in Ryan’s head was loud and thunderous. It certainly stifled rational thought. His hands balled and his body tensed.
“Don’t hit me,” Caleb said after a sidelong glance. “Man, you’re in enough trouble without adding brawling to the list.”
“I don’t like these men looking at her,” Ryan snapped.
“They can’t see nothin’. She hasn’t flashed her boobs at anyone.”
“I can hear what they’re thinking.” Ryan’s weight shifted from foot to foot, desperate to rid himself of the influx of edginess. It struck him that this was what Julia had tried to tell him when she’d mentioned the single women who hung around French Letters.
“A lot of women come on to us,” Caleb pointed out. “That must be difficult for Julia.”
“Fuck off,” Ryan said, irked because Caleb read his mind way too often for his comfort.
“All I’m saying is that this is a job for her. She’s turned a sleazy strip club into something classy and sophisticated.”
Caleb’s reasonable tone pissed him off. His friend was right, and that pissed him off too.
“What are you going to tell her?” Caleb asked.
Caleb wasn’t talking about the club or Julia’s performance. He meant the kid who was currently sleeping in the apartment he used to share with Caleb before he’d moved in with Julia. They’d left their grandmotherly neighbor babysitting. “The truth.” Yep, Caleb was doing his best work on Ryan’s last nerve. “What do you expect me to do? I can’t hide the kid. He’s my son.”
Caleb cursed under his breath. “I hope I don’t have any rug-rats out there. I never want to go through today again.”
“You want to try wearing my shoes,” Ryan snapped. Realizing he was delaying seeing his wife, he straightened. “I’m going to talk to Julia.”
“Good luck. I’ll be propping up the bar, watching the action if you need me.”
Up on the stage another performance was ready to start. The crowd seemed to straighten, the heightened interest a living, breathing thing. A purple spotlight flicked on, highlighting a masked brunette woman in a tight purple gown. She held two large purple fans in her hands. The surrounding patrons took a collective breath as they waited for her to commence.
Ryan wove between the tables, eager to see Julia again. A snatched phone call wasn’t enough. A security guard stood in front of the door leading to the dressing room. Ryan didn’t recognize the man.
“You can’t go in there.” The man might be elderly, but he possessed the solid hulk of a rugby forward, the crisp white shirt and black trousers all of Julia’s frontline staff wore highlighting the fact he’d kept up his fitness. “Staff only.”
“I’m Julia’s husband,” Ryan said. “I’ll wait while you check with her.” He appreciated the man’s caution and didn’t mind waiting.
The man returned with Julia on his heels. She bore a wide grin of welcome.
“Ryan, I didn’t expect you so early.” She threw her arms around him and squeezed him hard.
“Caleb and I were able to catch an earlier flight.” Despite the audience, he kissed her, taking his time. Delaying the talk, his conscience prompted because his son was a ticking bomb. “Do you have a minute?” He’d promised the babysitter he’d be back as soon as he’d spoken to Julia.
Her smile died, the pleasure at seeing him fading from her expression. “You look serious.”
He shrugged. “I need to tell you what happened in Sydney.”
Julia led him into the office and shut the door, proud of the way she’d greeted him without a hint of the anger and confusion or the plain panic that roiled like a ship in a storm inside her. “I saw the paper. The kid is yours.”
“Yes.”
Something in the way he answered made her scrutinize him more closely. She swallowed, afraid of what he might say next. Mentally, she ordered herself to calm down, but fearful thoughts collided with the secrets she’d kept, shoving her frustration levels higher. She cleared her throat, intending to ask about the child. That wasn’t what emerged. “I can’t have children,” she said baldly, cringing inside while she waited for the fallout. “Not easily because of the STD I caught.”
“What?”
She closed her eyes, pain stabbing her chest, making it difficult to breathe, to think. She groped for the words to make him understand. She should have told him about the baby weeks ago, but talking about it brought back horrid memories of pain and feeling achingly alone. Loss. Guilt. The panic she’d experienced when she couldn’t contact Ryan, the awful moment when she finally accepted they were over. “I’ve tried to tell you a dozen times.”
Ryan gaped at her. “But we talked about children. Why didn’t you tell me when I moved in with you?”
“How?” she demanded, her nostrils flaring. Heat flushed her c
heeks as she fought the urge to fling an empty coffee cup at his head. “It’s hard enough to think about, let alone talk to anyone else. You told me you wanted children when the time was right. What did you want me to say?”
“Do your friends know?”
It was difficult to read him, with his hard face devoid of emotion. Yet his pale blue eyes bored into her, demanding answers, returning her glower with interest. She swallowed hard and studied her red shoes, noting the scuff on the left one.
“Julia.”
God, she had to tell him. She scowled at the offending scuff mark. “When you were on tour in Europe, I discovered I was pregnant.” Her lips twisted as her words tumbled out. “Hell of a shock since I was on the Pill. I tried to contact you and failed.”
“Julia.” Ryan moved closer and gripped her forearms. “What happened to the baby? Did you—” He broke off, his breathing sounding harsh in the enclosed office.
“I miscarried,” she snapped, lifting her chin to meet his unfounded accusation. She would never…he could shove his thoughts right back where they came from. “I didn’t abort the baby or give it away. I miscarried, Ryan. Christina and Susan found me unconscious in my apartment.” She couldn’t see, couldn’t focus on him, and realized her face was damp. She sniffed, knuckling away the moisture from her eyes. “I didn’t understand how much I wanted the baby until they told me I’d lost it. When the doctor told me it would be difficult to have more children I was devastated.”
“Hell!” He dragged his hand through his dark hair, leaving it ruffled. He took half a step toward her and halted, his arms falling to his sides. “I’m sorry. All this happened about the time I was mugged?”
Reunited Lovers (Friendship Chronicles Book 2) Page 15