Page 49 of Strip Search

“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 bouncershad 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.

Chapter Fourteen