Page 20 of Strip Search

I was surprised that my hand was shaking when I drained my coffee in one long sip.

This was ridiculous. I wasn’t really going to masquerade as my sister at a dance audition.

They would know the minute I walked in that I wasn’t her based on the headshots and résumé Zimmerman would fax over.

This was just Las Vegas Jackie poking fun at New York Jackie.

Mags called back immediately. “Can you get Lisa there in the next hour?”

I gulped. “Sh-shit. I mean sure.”

“Good. They’ll be going over the combinations to all the dancers then. It’ll take about an hour. Then they’ll give them a half hour to practice and then they’ll start calling the dancers on stage to audition.”

Oh God.

“What kind of dancing are they looking for?” I was shell-shocked, but my mouth went on autopilot, asking the questions I normally would if I was actually sending Lisa.

“Hip-hop, modern, but don’t be surprised if they ask to see a kick line. It is Vegas after all.”

“What can you tell me about the decision-makers?” I murmured, my mind going a million directions at once.

“The casting director is Simi Pierce. Tell Lisa to wear something formfitting. They’re going to want to see her body. And have her wear shorts. They want to see her legs.”

“How do I get to the audition?” I cleared my throat. I had to get my head on straight.

“Pull around the back of the Odyssey casino into the employees’ lot, and tell the guard you’re there to audition for Travesty . Go into stage door C and tell them you’re with the Zimmerman Agency.”

“Got it,” I whispered.

“Break a leg,” Mags said.

I was going to throw up. No. I was just not going to the audition. I wasted five valuable minutes arguing with myself. Then I ran up to my room to get changed into a tight T-shirt and my stripper shorts. I was not wearing the butt floss. No way. No how.

Miles texted when I was in the car. My phone read the text to me over the rental car’s speakers.

Good Morning, beautiful. Can you get here around three and we can drive up to Pahrump?

It was ten a.m. now.

Instead of texting him back, I called. I needed to hear his voice. He was the only one I could tell this to without dealing with backlash and baggage. The hands-free dialed out for me.

“Hi,” I said when he picked up. “Do you have a minute?”

“Is everything all right?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Do you need me to come over?”

I smiled. “I needed you last night.”

“I’m sorry. The jerks at the gas company took their sweet-ass time. It was after dawn by the time they cleared the place.”

“I wouldn’t have minded being woken up by you.” At a stoplight, I stared at my nails critically. I should have gotten a mani-pedi the moment I arrived. Hopefully, no one would notice.

“I wouldn’t have been at my best.”

I shivered at the rough tone of his voice.

“You could come over now,” he said. “I’ll make you some breakfast.”

“I’ve already eaten.”

“Perfect. Then I’ll have you for breakfast.”

Swallowing hard, I shifted in the driver’s seat. “Sounds great, but I’m going to have to take a rain check.”

“You better not be in Pahrump already,” he growled.

“I’m not. I’m actually going to the Odyssey casino right now.”

“I didn’t think they were open.”

“They’re not, but they’re auditioning for their new show Travesty and . . . I’m going to give it a shot.” I had to lower the volume at his whoop of encouragement.

“You’re going to blow them all away,” he said.

“That’s the plan. If I can stop shaking.”

“I wish I could be there to cheer you on.”

Damn, had anyone ever said that to me? “I’m scared.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. You know how these things go. You’ve done auditions before. Just go out there and show them that star quality that you showed us last night. Only keep your clothes on.”

I had to laugh. “They wouldn’t blink an eye if I went out there naked.”

“I doubt that. You’re going to slay them, sweetheart. What are you going to do if you get the part?”

“I won’t. They’ll do a callback.” At least, I thought they would. “Anyway, I can’t think about that right now. I just have to get through the audition first.”

“I’ll be here waiting for you. You can do this, Jackie. You’re an amazing dancer.”

If I didn’t throw up or trip or break an ankle learning the combination.

“Say something, gorgeous, so I know you’re still breathing.”

“I’m here.”

“You’ve got this. Put Lisa and all the other bullshit out of your mind and take the stage like you did yesterday.”

“I’ve got to be Las Vegas Jackie, not New York Jackie,” I muttered.

“Right. Whatever that means.”

“Okay, thanks Miles.” I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders.

“Thanks for what?”

“For talking me off the ledge. I needed that.”

“Always.”

Always. I’d known him less than a week and he’d supported me more than my family had my entire life. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to fall for him hard. Who was I kidding? If bouncers had wall calendars like Australian rugby players, Miles would be my Mr. February.

“I can’t wait to see you today,” I said.

“Come as soon as you’re free.”

“I hope to,” I said as flirtatiously as I could.

“Mmm, you will,” he promised and then hung up.

Great, now I was all hot and bothered. Following Mags’s instructions, I parked in the Odyssey’s employee parking lot. I checked my makeup. I was wearing dark lipstick and went light on everything else. I didn’t want to risk looking like a raccoon or sweating my foundation all over my white T-shirt.

“Just another audition,” I told myself in the rearview mirror.

“It means nothing. It’s not like you’re going to take the job.

You’re here to cross something off your bucket list.” I looked up at the casino.

“Even if they don’t call me back, I can still say I danced on stage in Vegas.

” Of course, I’d done that last night. But this was a little more official. I wouldn’t have to take my clothes off.

Getting out of the car, I made my way to stage door C and met up with a bored-looking man wearing a headset and carrying a clipboard.

“Name,” he droned.

“Jackie Mitchell from the Zimmerman Agency.” I held my breath as he frowned at his list.

“Got a Lisa Mitchell.”

“Lisa?” I deliberately raised my voice. “Oh no. That’s my sister. They sent the wrong file.” I put an edge of hysteria in my voice.

He held up a hand and winced. “You have your portfolio?”

“I can e-mail it.” I showed him my phone.

“Fine,” he droned again. He crossed off Lisa and put Jackie on his list. “Send it here.” He pointed to the address at the top of the clipboard.

“Sent,” I said breathlessly. I hoped this was going to work.

He opened up his own phone and after a moment nodded. “Down the hall. Third room on the left. Stash your bag and phone in the locker and then head out to the stage. Take a right out of the dressing room and keep going. You’ll find it.”

I was in. My knees wobbled as I went to the locker room. Time for Las Vegas Jackie to shine—or fail.