Idol

by Carrie Duffy

  Outside the applause was starting to die down, and shouts of ‘More’ and ‘Encore’ could be heard.

  ‘Is everyone ready?’ Sadie hissed into the darkness, as she slipped into a pair of red skyscraper heels. There were assenting murmurs from the other girls, and then the music started up. Sadie strutted out into the dazzling glare of the lights as the others filed out behind her.

  The energy of the crowd stepped up a notch – Sadie could feel it, as though it was a living, breathing being. Many of them had seen the show before, or read about it, and they knew what was coming. The anticipation in the air was tangible. This was how the Kandy Girls had got their name. All five of them were dressed in very short, very sexy red and white striped uniforms, slashed low at the front to show their corseted cleavages. They wore matching red and white striped hats, white stockings and a red garter belt. It was a sexed-up version of the traditional Candy Stripers outfit, worn by the young American women who used to volunteer in hospitals. In a fit of narcissism Karl had changed the spelling, and thus the Kandy Girls were born.

  Lola, an Amazonian redhead with a body to die for, was stalking up and down the front of the stage, microphone in hand. She had enormous fake breasts that weren’t even trying to look natural, and a take-no-shit attitude that made her a perfect candidate to deal with the rowdy crowd.

  ‘How y’all doin’ tonight? You enjoyed the show?’ she demanded. A roar of approval greeted her words. ‘Gooood,’ she drawled seductively. ‘We aim to please.’

  Now it was Heidi’s turn to take centre stage. She had legs that went on forever, cropped platinum-blonde hair and the offbeat, angular features of a model, with high cheekbones and an imperious bearing. Sadie thought she was a bitch.

  ‘So are any of you guys feeling dirty tonight?’ Heidi asked, receiving a volley of whoops and whistles in reply. Her blue eyes sparkled as she asked, ‘Well, who’s the dirtiest of all of you, huh? Who’s the filthiest?’

  A number of guys waved their hands in the air, and there were shouts of ‘Hell, yeah!’

  Heidi lowered her voice and asked in a husky tone, ‘Who’s so dirrrrrty … that they need a bed bath?’

  The crowd went wild at her words as a full-size four-poster bed descended from the ceiling, fully made up with red silk sheets, soft pillows and feather cushions. The girls stood to the side as it was lowered into place, pretending to scrutinize the room to choose the lucky volunteer.

  The audience was predominantly male, with a scattering of couples and mixed groups. Many of them were the rich, young, LA set, who lived off their parents’ money and flew up to Vegas to party on a weekend. There were a handful of celebrities, and half the San Diego football team in tonight, Sadie noticed, as she raised a hand to her eyes and scanned the crowd. Kandy Girls was fast becoming the ultimate show to see and be seen at.

  ‘Hey Vanessa,’ drawled Heidi to the fifth member of the troupe, a stunning African American girl. ‘Would you like to choose tonight?’

  Vanessa smugly looked out at the crowd, where a number of guys were vying for her attention. Her body was slim but with curves in all the right places, a high, round booty that would have put J-Lo to shame, and large, all-natural breasts. She and Sadie were the only girls that weren’t surgically enhanced, and Sadie felt positively flat-chested beside the rest of them.

  Vanessa pretended to weigh up the options, but Sadie knew that tonight’s ‘volunteer’ was a foregone conclusion. A lot of money had changed hands to ensure that one particular guy would be picked; his friends had set him up for a bachelor night he would never forget.

  ‘You!’ Vanessa exclaimed breathlessly, pointing at a dark-haired man in his late twenties who was sitting at the front table. ‘Don’t be shy, come on up here,’ she beckoned him encouragingly, as he was pushed onto the stage by his buddies. Everyone was going crazy now, on their feet and screaming. They knew what came next.

  ‘Hey baby, what’s your name?’ Vanessa asked, as she put her arm around him and passed him the microphone.

  ‘Oh, man.’ He covered his face in embarrassment, his curly hair falling across his forehead. He was cute, Sadie realized. Light tan, good skin, hot body. ‘My name’s Dexter and I’m going to fucking kill those guys!’

  ‘Well, you can do that later, but first I think we need to get you out of those clothes. What do you think ladies?’

  The audience whooped as the girls pounced, Sadie tugging at his jacket while Lola and Vanessa went to work on his shirt buttons. Brooke pulled off his belt while Heidi went straight for his fly. Moments later, Dexter was standing centre stage wearing only his Armani boxers. He didn’t look at all fazed by the experience. In fact, he was loving the attention as he struck a variety of poses, flexing his impressive muscles. He had a rock-hard body, and he wasn’t afraid to show it off.

  Heidi raised her leg in a high kick, pushing him sharply backwards with her stiletto heel. He stumbled drunkenly and fell onto the bed, where all five girls immediately leapt up to join him.

  ‘Bed bath!’ yelled the crowd, as the Kandy Girls gave Dexter the sexiest rub-down he’d ever had in his life. Lola raised her hands above her head and squeezed a large sponge over her body, causing water and bubble bath to trickle down between her breasts as she soaped herself provocatively. Then she began to wash Dexter, smoothing the sponge in long, slow circles across his chest until the two of them were slippery wet with soapy bubbles.

  The others bent over his body, giving the audience a tantalizing flash of underwear as they got to work with oils and lotions. They each took a limb, massaging the warm oil into Dexter’s skin, their fingertips pressing and probing every inch of his body. Sadie could see he was doing his best not to get aroused, but it was practically impossible. After the amount of Patrón his friends had made him down, his dick was working independently of his brain. Hell, the two were un cooperative at the best of times.

  Sadie tried not to giggle as she watched him close his eyes and bite down on his lip in a lame attempt to distract himself. She knew it wouldn’t work. The Kandy Girls were very good at what they did, and always tried to ensure the guy left with a full-on erection for maximum embarrassment. ‘I want completely unsatisfied customers!’ Karl had instructed them. It was amazing how popular this ritual humiliation had become, with guys lining up to be picked.

  The music was nearing the end and, without warning, the five girls suddenly jumped off the bed leaving Dexter alone and vulnerable. They took their bows to a standing ovation, and once again Sadie felt the sheer thrill of performance. She didn’t think she could ever tire of it – the adrenaline and the adulation of doing a live show.

  ‘Vegas, give it up for Dexter!’ Heidi yelled into the microphone. Sheepishly, he crawled off the bed, hunching over as he awkwardly acknowledged the cheers. Heidi grabbed his hand and thrust it into the air as though he’d just won gold at the Olympics, before sending him back to his seat wet, greasy and barely dressed.

  The Kandy Girls took one final bow before they sashayed off stage. In the wings they grasped each other’s hands and squealed, thrilled with their performance.

  ‘That was the best one yet,’ shrieked Brooke.

  ‘Man, it was awesome up there,’ agreed Lola. ‘Did you see Sam White?’ she asked, naming the hot new TV actor and star of the CW Network’s latest teen drama.

  ‘No! Was he out there?’ asked Vanessa in disbelief.

  ‘Uh huh. And he liked what he saw!’

  Giggling and talking, the girls fell back into their dressing room where they opened a bottle of champagne and toasted the show. Each of them had their own mirror and vanity table, with a large bunch of flowers on every one – Karl sent them each week without fail. Sadie thought it was sweet.

  She still couldn’t believe how quickly everything had happened. Karl had rented a house for her and the other girls in Henderson, Clark County, a little way south of the Strip. The idea was for them all to bond, and to this end Sadie and Brooke were sharing a room, as were Vanessa
and Lola. Heidi had managed to bag the third room all to herself, which pissed Sadie off. Not that she minded sharing with Brooke, but the lack of privacy took a little getting used to and she hated seeing Heidi strutting round as if she was the queen of the place.

  The house itself was beautiful – a luxurious family home with a gym set up in what would have been the dining room and even a small swimming pool in the back yard. Not that they’d had time to use it. Karl had worked them like slaves and the rehearsal period had been ridiculously intensive: twelve-hour days, with Karl masterminding and Desiree filling in when he had to fly off to attend to his other clients.

  Their first gig was a month to the day after they moved into the house. Their ninety-minute set incorporated singing, dancing, banter and burlesque, and the Kandy Girls had gone down a storm. They danced to ‘Hit Me Baby One More Time’ in pigtails and jail-bait school uniforms, and Christina Aguilera’s ‘Candyman’ wearing hot little Forties’ outfits. They performed ‘Like a Virgin’ in tiny white-lace dresses that looked like sexed-up wedding gowns, and ‘Mein Herr’ from Cabaret with a raunchy routine featuring top hats and canes.

  They were booked for three nights a week at The Play Rooms, but Karl wanted them to cut down to two.

  ‘That’s crazy,’ Heidi complained. ‘We could triple what we’re making now if we played every night.’

  ‘Au contraire, my dear,’ Karl contradicted her, wagging a finger in her face. ‘Always leave them wanting more. The more popular we get, the more exclusive we become.’

  And he knew what he was talking about. The reviews were unbelievable:

  ‘The sexiest show in town’, screamed Las Vegas Weekly.

  ‘Glamorous, glossy and downright dirty’, purred Luxury Las Vegas.

  Las Vegas Magazine said that, ‘Whilst the Kandy Girls may not be the most original idea out there, they sure as hell do it bigger, better and harder than anyone else. Unmissable.’

  They’d even done a profile on Sadie, with a two-page interview and photo shoot at The Mirage, entitled: ‘Sadie Laine, A Star Is Born’. She had quickly emerged as the Kandy Girls’ main attraction, something which she could see had the potential to cause friction within the group. The truth was that Sadie was the only girl who was a trained dancer – the rest of them were waitressing wannabes, stars in their provincial home town who’d made the long journey to Nevada in the hope of making it. Along with Lola, Sadie also had the best singing voice, and the crowd went wild for her British accent when she spoke over the microphone.

  As she pulled off her Candy Striper dress and wriggled out of her corset, there was a knock at the door. Amanda, who was staff at The Play Rooms, stuck her head round.

  ‘Great job girls, you rocked!’ she told them.

  ‘The audience were wild tonight, huh?’ said Lola.

  ‘Yeah, and some of them are dying to meet you. There are six of the Chargers guys out there waiting for you.’

  ‘Six? I guess one of us will have to double up,’ giggled Brooke.

  ‘They sent you this, with their compliments,’ explained Amanda, holding out an enormous bottle of Cristal, ‘and they were wondering if you’d like to join them for dinner afterwards.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ shrieked Vanessa. ‘Those guys are hot!’

  ‘Yeah, I love a bit of athlete action,’ smirked Heidi. ‘Especially Tyrone Cole. I could give him a night he’d never forget. He’d be too exhausted to play football the next day, I guarantee it.’

  ‘Well, he’s out there,’ Amanda confirmed excitedly, ‘and he specially wanted to know if Sadie was going to join them tonight.’

  ‘Me?’ Sadie’s head snapped up from where she was pulling on her battered old jeans.

  ‘Oh my God, Sadie, you have to come out tonight,’ Brooke insisted.

  Sadie waved a hand dismissively. ‘I don’t even know who he is.’

  ‘He’s gorgeous,’ Lola filled her in, as though that explained everything. ‘So hot. He’s the Chargers’ quarterback and he’s divine.’

  Something seemed vaguely familiar to Sadie. Briefly, she flashed back to the Starbucks at LAS, the TV screen with the handsome black guy, and the barista’s comments. ‘Sorry, not interested,’ she shrugged, as she turned away and hooked her bra.

  ‘Sadie, are you insane?’

  ‘Are you a lesbian?’ bitched Heidi, peering at her as though she was a different species.

  ‘I’m tired tonight,’ she shot back irritably. ‘I just want to go home and chill.’

  ‘Freak,’ Heidi said lightly, but Brooke glared at her. She could tell that there was something else – something Sadie wasn’t letting on.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come tonight?’ she asked gently. ‘If it’s money you’re worried about, they’ll pay for everything. And they’ll take us somewhere amazing, VIP all the way.’

  Sadie smiled wryly. Oh yeah, she knew all about rich men who turned up bearing extravagant gifts and took her to fabulous places. She found herself wondering whether Tyrone Cole had a wife back in San Diego. ‘Not tonight. But you guys go, have an amazing time.’

  ‘Don’t wait up,’ Heidi quipped, as she swung her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the door, followed by the others.

  Sadie watched them go.

  She would go home, soak in a hot bath then curl up in her pyjamas and watch trash TV. It would be so nice to have the house to herself for a while, a little breathing space to clear her head. Yeah, she was just concentrating on her career right now, she told herself – and that was working out fantastically. Turning down tonight’s invitation definitely wasn’t anything to do with how Paul Austin had treated her.

  Okay, so Tyrone was undoubtedly hot, but she knew next to nothing about him – and everything she did know marked him out as trouble. There was only one reason an absurdly rich, stunningly gorgeous athlete made a play for a cabaret dancer, and it certainly wasn’t for her conversation.

  Sadie stood up and glanced around the now empty dressing room. It seemed bare and lifeless without the exuberant chatter of the other girls, empty and still. Through the wall she could hear the distant sound of music playing in the club and the hum of conversation and laughter – the sound of other people having fun. Without giving herself time to think, Sadie picked up her bag, switched off the light and headed outside to hail a cab.

  22

  High above Las Vegas in the inky night sky, the Virgin Atlantic flight from London was beginning its final descent into McCarran. Comfortably ensconced in upper class were Jenna Jonsson and Nick Taylor, whose arrival at Gatwick had caused a sensation. They were now officially an established, superstar couple, with all the gossip, speculation and paparazzi craziness that entailed. It was only now that Jenna was realizing the press attention she’d dealt with in the past was nothing. Dating a fellow celebrity hadn’t just doubled people’s interest in her – it had blown it off the scale.

  She settled back in her seat, gazing idly out of the window at the stunning view below. Vegas looked spectacular at night, as the gambling city loomed unexpectedly out of the miles of barren Nevada desert that surrounded it, a blaze of neon in the dark sky.

  ‘Excited?’ Nick asked her with a grin.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Jenna assured him, as she ran a French-manicured hand along his thigh and thought how gorgeous he looked. He was wearing loose-fitting jeans and a light shirt, open at the neck. Both of them had baulked at the unflattering sleep-suits provided by the airline. It was like wearing a polyester body bag tied up with a shoelace.

  The pair of them were heading to Sin City for The Night of a Thousand Stars, a huge one-off concert that looked set to be the music world’s biggest event of the year. Millions would be watching around the globe, and there had been a furious bidding war for screening rights, with NBC emerging as eventual winners.

  The Night of a Thousand Stars was being held at The Colosseum, and Jenna and Phoenix had both been asked to appear. The official line was that they were performing as separate ac
ts, but in fact the plan was to finally debut their single ‘Without You’. Details were supposed to be kept confidential for maximum impact on the night, but inevitably the story had leaked. Someone had talked – a roadie or a make-up artist had sold them out for an exclusive with US Weekly, and now the rumours were spreading like wildfire.

  Although Jenna hadn’t exactly lied when she told Nick she was excited about the show, she hadn’t mentioned that she was also absolutely terrified. She had the ridiculous sensation that her whole career was on the line. Everything she’d done until now, professionally, had always gone down a storm – there had been number one singles, sell-out tours, adulation and adoration. But now she wanted to step it up a level and run with the big boys. She was moving out of her comfort zone, from bubble-gum, mass-market pop to a major collaboration with an established band. She wanted to prove to people that she would be around for the long term; that she was more than just a manufactured pop star with a limited shelf life. More than anything, she wanted credibility and respect.

  But she was confident that the music was good. She knew the critics weren’t expecting it to work – a pop vocal on a storming rock track – but it did, and together they’d delivered a piece of music that was sassy, sexy and bang on trend.

  After the incident with Amber, which they’d all tactfully pretended to have forgotten, the band had stayed on the island for another couple of weeks. The atmosphere had been a little weird, and Zac in particular had been tense and snappy for a while – because of what had happened with Amber, Jenna presumed. But the creative juices were flowing and they’d made a fantastic record. It had been sent to Don back in London for final production, and he’d done them proud. They all knew they were looking at a sure-fire hit.

  On a personal level, Jenna was walking around with a ridiculous grin on her face and a constant, insatiable heat between her legs. She was crazy about Nick Taylor, and the sex was incredible. They’d tried to keep their relationship under wraps, worried about what the rest of the band might think, but it was obvious to anyone who saw them together. Nick couldn’t keep his hands off her. His gestures were possessive and more than a little smug – for a playboy like him, dating Jenna Jonsson was like winning the pussy lottery.