Page 3 of Allured (Love and Burlesque #1)
CHAPTER THREE
ALEK
You better work, bitch.
F riday night hits faster than I expected it would. I spent my week training the new dancers brought onto the team and creating the menu for Knight’s gala tomorrow.
It’s still early September and nearing the end of our summer show season but we’ve got a lot of new material to learn for the fall. Typically I love showing the newbies the ropes and getting to know them. I’m ‘painfully extroverted’ according to T, but he’s a grumpy fucker. He’s one of the reasons this week hasn’t gone as great as it could have. He’s broken up over his ex—girlfriend and taking it out on people around him.
“Dude, they’re ready, you don’t need to be freaking out,” I reassure my brother. I catch T’s eyes through the dressing room mirror as I apply a second layer of mascara to my eyelashes. What can I say? It makes my eyes pop .
“I know they’re ready, Alek,” he sighs and sets down one of his contour brushes onto the dresser. “I’ve just been in a funk.”
“Nah, really?” I ask rhetorically, a playful tone in my voice. “Didn’t notice that when you barked the newbie’s head off the other day.” Crossing my arms, I turn toward my brother to get a good look at him. Setting free a sigh of my own, I put down my mascara wand.
He’s tired, I can tell. It’s not easy training new dancers, especially ones that come in with a primadonna complex because they recently graduated from a fancy dance academy. I don’t necessarily blame T for getting upset at one of the new guys. Jason was being a dick because he didn’t get a lead part, but the yelling was harsher than it had to be.
“I apologized to him, Alek.” He mimics my pose and crosses his arms as well. “I was gonna say, I’m gonna be taking next week off. I’ve got some clinicals coming up and need to focus on my residency,” he voices quietly, not wanting to share the information with the rest of the dancers in the dressing room.
I honestly couldn’t be more proud that my little brother is within reach of his dream to become a doctor but I think he takes on too much. He’s working at the club in order to make money and pay off what he can for school, but I can tell balancing everything has been wearing him down lately. Savannah leaving him was just the thing to make him realize it.
“Good,” nodding, I continue, “you need some time off, T. Shit’s been a lot for you lately.” T narrows his eyes and tilts his head at me with a confused expression. He looks like some giant puppy when he does that.
“You’re okay with that?” His tone doesn’t do anything to hide his surprise. Why would he think that I would be against him taking care of himself? “It’s gonna be a lot more work for you, Alek.”
“It’s not a problem,” I reply, brushing him off with a wave of my hand. It honestly isn’t a problem for me to take on some more hours. I won’t lie– the club is my life, and it’s not like I have any outstanding commitments after Knight’s gala tomorrow.
“The new dancers are trained and we’ve only got a few bachelorette parties next week until we start the Halloween shows. Nothing I can’t handle.” I explain as I clean up my station and pack my makeup bag.
“Alek…” T’s voice is soft as he places his hand on my forearm. “I appreciate you taking over, I really do.”
I turn to him as a small, sad smile begins to play on his face. “My mind’s been messed up lately and I think this will give me some clarity.”
I pat the hand he has resting on my arm and meet his green eyes with the hazel of my own. “I’m always here for you, y’know? If you want to talk, drink, or punch it out, I’m game, bro.” I earn a genuine laugh with that one.
“No, fuck you, you play dirty.” He shakes his head, shoves me away, and begins clearing his station as well. Our prep time is coming to an end with only fifteen minutes until the show starts, and I’ve instilled in these guys that any messes are their own.
“It was an accident!” I huff out an annoyed grunt. “You,” I start, pointing my index finger at him, “should have watched where the pool was, idiot.” How dare he say it was my fault that he fell into a half empty pool last summer. We were having a bonfire with a couple of friends that night and we both ended up drinking too much. For some reason, a wrestling match sounded like a great idea. So great the night ended with T needing stitches on his upper arm after I tackled his big ass into the pool. Still, I say it’s his fault. He double dared me.
“I have scars, Alek!” he shouts his fake offense and slaps my finger out of his face. There’s no anger there, just good ol’ teasing about a brotherly fight taken too far. He’s totally mad I kicked his ass.
“You got a concussion Alek, I wouldn’t say that you came out clean.” Viv laughs as she appears out of the corner of my eye and begins to fiddle with some of the tassels on my costume.
I’ve got to admit the costume she whipped up is gorgeous. It’s a sparkling shade of champagne with tassels and small gems shining on the criss—cross straps that surround my torso. And of course it’s topped off– or bottomed off I should say– with a matching metallic thong that shows off this ass I squat five days a week to have. The coverup of my costume, a rip—away three—piece suit, sits in my chair behind me. I’ll definitely need her help with that. Funny how easy the velcro is to tear off, but so damn hard to put on by yourself.
“You’re supposed to be on my side, Viv.” I pretend to scold her as T snorts smugly. He’s reaching for his three piece—suit too.
“I’m not on anyone’s side. You’re both ridiculous. Now, turn around so I can help get this suit on you.” Her tiny hands feel anything but small as she practically man—handles me away from the vanity and expertly slips the suit on me.
“Thanks, Mom .” I might as well call her that with how she’s got me feeling like some toddler that can’t get his own clothes on. I love taunting her but I know I’d accidentally flash the audience way too early in the show if she wasn’t here to make sure the costume was in place.
T howls with laughter as he and one of our long—time dancers, Benny, help each other get their costumes on. They’re dressed in something similar to me but their costumes have underlying black and silver strappy lingerie. We’ve got a fun show planned tonight and the excitement is starting to get to me. Nothing beats the rush of knowing you’ve got the crowd’s attention, admiration, and desire. The electricity of it all causes some serious adrenaline to run through you.
“Showtime, my beauties!” Seb, our master of ceremonies, announces over our intercom system. A loud smack of his lips over the speakers punctuates the announcement. Our nightly kiss for good luck.
Once the final piece of my costume is in place, I turn away from my siblings to take in the room full of about a dozen other dancers. It’s time for our pre—show prep rally.
“You better what?” I deepen my voice and it fills the room as if I’m some commanding officer yelling at his soldiers.
“You better work, bitch!” A loud chorus of masculine voices salute back to me.
Music to my fucking ears.