Maria grabbed her hands and squeezed. She had been Lacy’s best friend, and confidant since college, someone she would be lost without.
“Oh honey, you’re amazing with what you do and if Jamison doesn’t see it then he’s blind. You need a night out. Drinking, dancing, relax a bit, if you know what I mean. My Tommy can find you a good guy. All you have to do is just say so.”
“I thought you broke up with him. Something about lack of timing, if you get what I mean.”
Maria slugged her, and they laughed. “Oh dear, I did break up with him, but he didn’t break up with me. He said he was going to make me change my mind. I will definitely need more batteries if that’s going to happen.”
Their laughter spread throughout the office. That was an image Lacy didn’t need in her head and the last thing she wanted was another cousin of Tommy’s. The last one was an octopus, all hands and tongue. Nothing Lacy was interested in right now. She knew it would be hard to compete with the other marketers for a contract this big. Corporate will make sure to research everyone on the team. On the outside they’re all the same. But she knew her choice of activities to fund her college would cost her everything if anyone finds out. She shook her head. Ashamed, she wasn’t. She had no student loans and a degree that pays her well. They just wouldn’t understand the decision she made once she graduated. They were family. Something she doesn’t want to let go of.
“Come on.” Maria shrieked as she rushed to the door. “We have a lot of work to do. Last one to the conference room gets the coffee, and I want to beat Markus. All the good donuts will be gone if we don’t.”
2
Is everything in place? I need this to run smooth, without a hitch.” Jamison Michaels said as he signed the last batch of forms in front of him.
“Yes sir. The contracts are ready, and they know you are coming. But, Sir, can I ask you something?” Jamison looked up at Davis Heart. He had been his right-hand man for years, and probably the closest thing he had to a true friend.
“Davis, what is with the Sir shit. I thought we were past that. It’s Jamison, Jamie or hey you. Just anything but Sir. That makes me feel old.”
“Yes…” Jamison glared up and Davis cleared his throat. “Is your Mother aware of this? I need to know so I can run interference. There will be some serious negative repercussions once she finds out. She was specific on the team she wanted. She even had their contracts sent over for you to deliver. How are you going to explain your decision?”
Jamison leaned back in his leather chair. He spun around to look out the wall of windows that canvased the city sky. “I haven’t thought that far ahead, but I do know Lacy’s work is better than the jokers my Mother picked out.” He returned to look over the files on his desk. Running his hand over the one with her name on it. Lacy Austin. A name that eluded him, and many Private Investigators, because it wasn’t the name he remembered. Lacy Henson was the girl from high school, the one who stole his heart, and still invades his dreams.
“I’ll figure this out, and don’t worry so much.” He slid his hand across his desk, catching the two contracts his Mother sent over. David and Markus, the two biggest ass kissers he knew. He pushed then to the edge, and into his trash can. “I will tell her that I didn’t know she had a preference, and that I already chose the team. Once they sign. It will be legal, and binding.”
“You’re playing with fire, but she is your mother, so I will just let you deal with her.” Davis straightened up the stack of signed documents and put them into his briefcase. “Is there anything else you will need from me today?”
Jamison glanced at his watch, seven pm. Shit, he was late. “No, I’m good, and running way behind. Like usual.”
“I called the restaurant and told Todd you were detained.” Davis said as he opened the office door.
“You are awesome, remind me to give you a big raise this year.”
“I always do.”
They both laughed as Jamison ran to the elevator. He pushed the button and tapped his foot, waiting. If it wasn’t the thirty sixth floor he would take the stairs. But that would be pushing his cardio abilities today.
Todd was his Uncle but had been more like a father throughout his life. He was always there for him, listening, giving advice, when his mother was on a quest to tie their name to the next biggest, prestigious, school. As a good son Jamison always did as he was told until Monroe Academy. A place he did not want to spend his senior year. He tried to reason with her, but she only saw what she would lose, so he left, moving in with his Uncle. A decision that changed his life because of a shy girl named Lacy. She stole his heart, and showed him he had the talent to design, giving him confidence to stand on his own. When they announced the contest, he knew who his partner was going to be. With Lacy’s designs, and his ability to mold, he knew they could win. The wedding theme led them to so many ideas, but they settled on one, a wedding dress. Lacy utilized their limited supplies and designed an old fashion lace dress made from scraps of material she had collected. His job was molding all the beads and pearls from droplets of dried paint and clay. Major designers wanted to purchase their finished product, but his mother stepped in. Destroying his dream, and her future. He knew what doors that would have opened for her, but they were all closed before he realized it, and she was gone. Jamison raced to his car and hit the freeway. He knew his Uncle was on his side, he liked Lacy, and knew her talent for design. A talent that would get noticed if she had the chance, and he was going to make sure she got it.
Avery’s was a popular place for the high end and was crowded tonight. It was filled with business men closing deals, married men dining secretaries and corporate executives drinking away their long day. Jamison walked right past the Hostess to the darkened booth in the back by the kitchen door. The table his Uncle always sat at.
He extended his hand and his Uncle grabbed it, pulling him into a tight embrace, patting him on the back. A small gesture to some, but one that made him feel welcomed.
“Sorry I’m late. I got tied up with some last-minute files.” Said Jamison as he slid into his seat.
“You’re always late, but I come to expect it. And I ordered your drink. Whiskey, two shots, one piece of ice. I will never understand why you feel the need to water down a good drink.”
“I don’t water it down, I like it cold, and one piece is all I need to get it to the right temperature. Now you did not ask me here to talk about how many ice cubes I prefer. What’s up?”
“I heard what you’re doing with this year’s fashion runway and I’m here to support your decision but warn you also.” His Uncle leaned forward, sliding a file across the table. Jamison pulled it closer. The tab read Lacy Austin Henson. His head shot up and his Uncle leaned back, sipping his martini.
“I know the PR team will do research on the marketers you choose. I just want you to know what they’re going to find. And If you truly want them to.” His tone was firm. Out of character for him.
Jamison opened the file and read the name across the top. Borders, the club out by the airport. He continued to scan the description of the Gentleman’s club but catered to both men and women. It was known for its shows and the fact that it has no nudity or touching tolerated. He’s been there a few times with clients. It was a higher end club. Dancers doing little plays, almost like a show on stage, the outfits were scant, but everything was covered. Even their face. A way for the girls to protect their privacy.
“Is this a business venture you want me to consider, or a place you want to go? I’m confused?” Jamison scanned the documents, looking for anything that would answer his question since his Uncle chose to sit quietly. Just pointing to the second page while he took another drink from his glass. He quickly read, stopping at the bottom. The list of employees. Stage names, but he recognized one. Second Hand Lace, a name she was given in high school by rich kids who never had to shop anywhere that didn’t have a high end name attached to it. Holy shit, this was bad. The PR department will tear
this up.
“I see you finally found the importance to the file.” His Uncle said as he lowered his glass.
Jamison closed it, tossing it back to his uncle’s hands and he pushed it back. “This is yours. I would think hard, for her sake, and talk to her before you present her with a contract. She might not want this to get out.”
Jamison shook his head. “This doesn’t make any sense. She makes a good salary with us. Why would she need to work here? Of all places? It has to be a mistake.”
“No mistake my boy. I stopped by last weekend and there she was. The last dancer, and one that was known by the locals. They chanted her name. She only did one number, and her mask was a full face, but it was her.”
Jamison tossed back his drink and slammed the glass down. Motioning for the waitress to bring another. This is bull shit. He had to be wrong.
“I see the wheels turning my boy, and I called the car. We can go over there tonight. I’ll prove it to you.” His Uncle drank the last from his glass and reached for his coat as the waitress brought Jamison his drink. He slammed that one back and stood.
“Let’s go, I’m ready to prove you wrong.”
3
Lacy made her way through the list the bartender made. The liquor order was not matching the sales receipts. She sat back, and her old wooden chair squeaked. It belonged to the only man in her life she loved, and trusted, her Dad. Everyone who sat in it complained about how it was unsafe, ready to fall apart. Lacy just felt safe and secure. She stretched her arms above her head. Her dad questioned her decision about Borders, but if he could see it today she knew he would be proud, not ashamed, like so many others. This was one of the few decent clubs left. And she was determined to keep it that way. The changes her manager put before her were parts of this business she chose to not be a part of. The club made a profit, and the girls made a good living, without sacrificing their dignity. She will never let Borders be nothing but a meat shop. She hunched back over the receipts and started to go over the tally’s, again. Something just didn’t add up. She had two bartenders, and she hired them both. Well known for their talents, and trustworthy, until today. One of them was either giving away too many drinks or lining his pockets with the receipts. She dropped her head into her hands and rubbed the headache that was building behind her temples.
This really sucks. She’s going to have to spend more evenings here, watching, like the boss she didn’t want to be. And this was the last thing she needed right now. Her full attention needed to be on securing the Runway contract, not having to play detective to find out who’s stealing from her. Now she needed a drink. She stood, shoving the chair back, and stormed to the old wooden door. Lacy pulled her black cape off the hook on the door and grabbed one of the masks that hung from the wall. A simple, full face black one, mysterious, new, not known by anyone. Maybe being hidden in plain site will be just what she needed tonight to watch the actions behind the bar. She was heightened by the excitement of gaining control as she walked down the back corridor, and into the club from the side door.
It was filling up fast. Thursdays were theme nights and tonight was fairy tales. Patrons were encouraged to dress up and the regulars did. The staff enjoyed guessing who was behind the costume. It was also a night she loved when she took the stage. The girls would pick their characters and Lacy designed all the costumes. It was like having her own runway show. She slid into the booth at the end of the bar. The perfect angle to see the stage, and the actions around the cash register. She waved Tonya over, she was new and wouldn’t recognize her right away. She ordered a double shot of crown. No water, or ice. She preferred her drinks cold but this way she can find out if someone was watering down the products. Something that was a known practice in other clubs, but not here. She refused to take part in it when Amy insisted. Said it would save on alcohol, I see it as loosing good clients.
Lacy sipped her drink while watching the transactions behind the bar. Nothing out of the ordinary. Mike and Steve ran a smooth operation, she allowed them to show off their talents with a show of their own during the set changes on stage. Tonight, they were in full form, competing for all the girl’s attention. Borders was not just a gentleman’s club, it entertained both men, and woman. Brought in a better, more manageable crowd. Higher end, and one that could cater to couples. Lacy leaned back, enjoying the show when the lights dimmed. The next girl was getting ready to start. It was Candy doing her Little Red Riding Hood skit. A favorite with the crowd. The spot light came on and all eyes were on the stage, except Lacy’s. She knew this would be the perfect time if she were going to lift from the drawer and she was right. Her eyes blinked, wishing they were wrong, but the act was blatant, hidden from everyone but her. Damn, how could this happen, and why? Lacy lifted her glass and downed her drink. The amber liquid burned, fueling the anger that built inside her. She stepped up to the bar, sliding in between two customers when she froze. That voice, his voice, he was here. Right behind her. She stepped back, running into Tonya.
“Sugar, you okay, can I get you another drink?”
Lacy shook her head, unable to speak as her eyes met his. He was staring at her as if he could see right through the mask. She needed to leave, get back to her office.
“Let me get you a chair. I’ll get Mike to make you another drink, double of crown, right?”
Tanya kept talking and it hit Lacy, they don’t recognize her. The new full body cape, and mask, worked for the perfect disguise. Her shoulders relaxed, and control returned to her breathing. Hide in plain sight. This just might work. Now to change her voice and she will be able to pull this off without being noticed.
“I’m fine, and yes. I would love another drink.” Lacy looked right into the blue eyes she fell in love with years ago. “Can I buy one for you, and your friend?”
Lacy remembered Jamison’s Uncle. He was always so nice to her when they worked on their project. Never treated her like she was beneath them, she liked that.
Jamison’s eyes widened when he smiled, and he pointed to their full glasses. She nodded, unable to hear over the music. He pointed to the empty chair beside him and she stepped forward, his hand extended, and she reached for it, yet stopped when Amy rushed past Mike behind the bar. She cursed behind the mask. The flutter in her chest turned to a stab of disappointment, but a jolt back to reality was what she needed. He still had the ability to make her melt, and she needed to get back in control if she was going to be able to convince him to give her the runway account. Lacy absently pointed to her watch and gave them a curt wave and backed into the crowd, making her way to her office. The one she knew Amy would be going to. This was a conversation she was not looking forward to, but one she had to have.
Jamison stared as the masked girl disappeared into the crowd. He would not have believed it if he didn’t see it with his own eyes. Lacy, but why the disguise? Why this place? This might ruin everything he wanted to accomplish. And he needed her to make this all work. He whipped around on his stool and slammed his fist on the bar. The music quieted, and he glanced at his Uncle.
“Have you seen enough?” His Uncle asked.
“Yes, but I still can’t believe it.” Jamison said loud enough for his Uncle to hear. His eyes scanned the area around him. A few changes and it would be just another corner club. But the stage in the middle, and the dancers, moved it up to an establishment that his PR department would have a field day with.
“This might change everything.” Jamison said as he waved for another drink.
“It doesn’t have to. Talk to her. Ask her why. Maybe she will quit if she knew what she could lose for working here.” His Uncle motioned to the stage. “It’s not a strip club, or a dive I would never step into. It’s respectable. And the dancers make it more of a play, then an erotic show. So, we might get away with just a little backlash.”
Jamison wished that were true, but he knew how his mother ran the PR department and she would have fun with this. She never liked Lacy and went out of her way
to let her know it. The memory of the night they won the contest was etched in his mind and not for the award. It was for the amazing kiss they shared. One he wanted for months, but was a too shy to ask, and afraid to try. But his mother made sure she knew how she didn’t fit into her plans for his future. The horror on her face when she ran out that night was etched into his mind. Something he swore he would make right if it was the last thing he was going to do. And this was just the thing. She was an amazing designer, one who deserved the contract. A chance to show the world what he saw the day she made a million-dollar wedding dress from scraps of material and clay jewels.
“Let’s go, I’ve seen enough. We need to figure out our next move. I’m not giving up on my plan. She deserves it, and I know it will work. I just have to convince her before my mother makes her run away again.”
Lacy ripped open the door and slammed it behind her. Amy stood in front of the safe, attempting to open it. “What in the hell are you doing?” Lacy yelled.
Amy whipped around, her face turned pasty white as she crammed her hands into her pocket.
“Um, nothing, just making change. What are you doing here?” Amy stuttered as she inched away from the safe. “I thought the weeknights were mine to run, and the weekends were yours? Did I miss a memo on the change?”
“No, I stopped in to check the deposit. It’s been off the last few weeks. Since the weeknights are yours do you know why our profits are getting lower as our purchases are going up? Makes no sense to me.” Lacy lifted the ledger and tossed it to her. “As you can see our sales do not reflect our usage. And I think I know why.”
“Really?” Asked Amy as she threw the ledger back on the desk. “And why do you still use these stupid paper ones. I told you I had a program for that. Paper leaves too much room for mistakes. Computers are easier and my excel spreadsheet shows our profit margin.”
Seduction in a Suit: An Office Romance Collection Page 26