Page 21 of Untouchable Billionaire (The Hardcore Novels: Special Editions #1)
* * *
Siri
* * *
The rhythm of my swim stroke calms my mind, quieting the echoes from the gentleman’s club.
As I approach the wall, a hand appears, waving under the surface.
What the fuck? I stop swimming and tread water.
My best friend and manager stands on the edge of the pool. The look on her face makes time stand still.
“Cat, what’s wrong?”
“Siri, there’s been an accident.”
My heart stops, then starts to race. “Who?”
“Come here, baby girl.” She holds up a towel.
Swimming to the stairs, my mind is both blank and racing.
Blank, not wanting to think about how bad this must be for Cat to use her key to my apartment and invade my privacy.
Racing, wondering what has happened to whom.
As I emerge from the water, I ask again. “Who?”
She holds the towel for me. “Come sit down.”
Oh, god!
My heart beats hard with a dull ache as I allow Cat to wrap the towel around me and lead me to the barstool in the kitchen.
When I’m seated, she moves to the liquor cabinet, takes two lowball glasses, and pours us both a heavy splash of Crown Royal. Neat, so it bites.
She doesn’t say a word until we have both taken a hit of the whisky, then she says one of the two names no one wants to hear. “Your mother…”
“There’s been an accident. Your dad called me when you didn’t answer your phone. He doesn’t know much, but they are prepping her for surgery.”
I take the glass of whisky, toss the rest back, then stand. “I need to pack. Will you ask Bart if I may use his jet?”
“Sure, baby girl. I’ll make the arrangements.”
An hour later, I follow Brutus through McCarran International Airport to Bart’s private jet. He keeps looking down at me. I know he’s worried I’ll lose my shit before I get on board. My hands are shaking like leaves.
When we walk out of the terminal onto the tarmac, he asks, “Are you sure you don’t want me flying home with you?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” I say, braver than I feel.
I take two steps up the stairs, then turn and face him. “Brutus,” my voice cracks, “Thanks for having my back all these years.”
He grins, “Siri, don’t get all sentimental now. You’ll be back soon enough. Your mom’s had a bad accident, but she’s going to be fine.”
I nod. “I’ll call you when we touch down and the minute I know something.”
Once I’m on board, I look out the window. The big giant of a man who has been my bodyguard from the beginning is standing at the terminal waving. I wave back, knowing he can’t see me in the little window, but it doing because it makes me feel better.
As the jet taxies down the runway, I promise myself, as soon as Mama doesn’t need me anymore, I’ll return home to Vegas. I close my eyes and try to rest, but the tears begin, and instead, I cry. This isn’t the triumphant return to Live Oak, Alabama, I had envisioned.
For three years, I’ve lived a life other people only dream of as the headlining act at Been Jammin’, the premier gentleman’s club on the strip.
Looking out the window not seeing the passing landscape, my thoughts drift back to the summer I arrived.
Piper and I came out to celebrate graduating from Florida State University. We were only supposed to stay a couple of weeks, but we landed jobs at Coyote Ugly so we thought, 'Hell yeah! Let's stay all summer.'
We laughed at how much money we were making working at a ‘Tits and Ass’ establishment, dancing on the bar, serving people food and drinks, having a blast.
The flight attendant touches my arm. “Can I get you anything, Siri?”
“No, thank you. I’m good.”
She smiles, returns to the front, and I look back out the window.
That September, Piper went home to London. "I miss me Mum, Siri, and the rain! It never rains here!"
But I stayed in Vegas. I couldn't bring myself to return to the rednecks and hicks from the sticks.
The day she left, I met Bart, and my life changed forever.
He was my first customer, and he offered me a job dancing at his club. He said I could make more money in tips in one night dancing than I made all week. I had no clue who he was, so when he pulled out his business card and I read Been Jammin' , my mouth fell open.
“Come to the club tonight and see for yourself.”
I took him up on his offer.
When I arrived, he escorted me through the casino, by a steakhouse, and two other nightclubs before we arrived at Been Jammin’ .
I was impressed with the famous gentlemen’s club that featured a big stage with several finger runways and pole dancers on the ends.
As well as, pole dancers elevated along the walls.
The space between the stage and the bar in the back that ran the full length of the wall contained booths and tables, but also had a standing room only section.
He walked me through to the bar, and introduced me to the bartender, Cat. We hit it off right away. Instant friends.
After several drinks and observing the atmosphere, I questioned her about dancing for Been Jammin’ .
She was honest and explained that pole dancing was the heart of their business. And I explained that I didn’t know how to pole dance.
She smiled and assured me that she could teach me, but what they really needed was a stage dancer.
I perked right up. “Now, that I’m interested in.”
She grinned, “You must have some dancing chops, because Bart doesn’t recruit, and yet, here you are.”
And then she challenged me. “Show me what you got.”
Beyoncé's "Dance For You" started to play, and the rest is Vegas history.
On the barstool, I became Beyoncé, and I danced the video choreography exactly like she does.
When I started tossing my hair, the people closest to me noticed, and when I twisted my torso and snapped my chest, a hush began to spread like a wave over the room.
By the time, I stood and walked out to the dance floor, the only sound was the music. The only one dancing was me.
When the music stopped, I received a round of applause, and on my way back to the barstool, phone camera's began flashing everywhere. People started pushing each other, trying to touch me.
Then the crowd parted, and sweet giant Brutus found me.
He didn't say a word. He simply led me safely back to Cat, then took up post behind me. He has had my back ever since.
People pushed their way up to try to get a selfie with me in the background. They saw who they wanted to see in the dim lights and alcohol induced state. Beyoncé. All I had to do to sell it was keep my face turned away.
A short time later, Bart came back to get me. He put his arm around me and whispered in my ear. "Beware, fame is addicting."
Then he addressed me in a loud voice for the surrounding crowd to hear. “My Queen, we appreciate you stopping by and gracing us with your presence. Brutus will escort you out.”
When I stood up, I kept my clutch in front of my face. The room lit up like the 4th of July.
I followed Brutus to the back where he put me in a dressing room and told me. "I will be right outside the door if you need anything."
When I left, Bart and Cat escorted me out. We climbed into a limousine with the paparazzi cameras flashing and were whisked away.
That night my dreams came true. I was hired to be an entertainer. I would dance exclusively at Been Jammin’ becoming the headlining stripper Seary, as well as Surreal, the anonymous celebrity impersonator.
I smile. I truly live a life others only dream of.
I close my eyes to rest.
* * *
Hardcore
* * *
I arrive at the house and the delicious smell of Maria's cooking. She's in the dining room, setting the table for two when I come in. "Yay! You're here on time!" She sounds more enthusiastic than usual to see me. "Go wash up, and let's eat. I have a date!"
I stop dead in my tracks. "A date?"
"Yes!" She claps her hands together, then starts to happy dance back to the kitchen.
"With who?" I frown and follow her in.
"With a man I met at the grocery store." She giggles. "A tall, dark, handsome man too." She fawns over his imaginary face. "Oh hell yeah."
"What's his name?" I demand.
She stops, suddenly realizing I'm not happy for her. "None of your business." She puts her hands on her hips and sasses me. "Don't go getting all territorial on me now. I won't have it."
"Maria. I. I. I'm happy for you. It's just as long as I've known you, you've...." Her face makes me stop. "I should stop talking now."
"Yes. You should."
"At least tell me where you are going?"
Her eyes narrow suspiciously. "We're going to his place."
I open my mouth to protest, and she sticks her hand out then cuts her throat with it. I close my mouth but narrow my eyes at her too. We stare each other down—a war of wills. I speak first. "I could tie you up and keep you here."
She bursts out laughing. "He owns the grocery store.
I've known him since the first day I moved out here and went shopping to feed you.
His name is Trent Monty. He's thirty-three and a really nice man.
Recently divorced with three kids. All of whom will be with us tonight.
We're going to take them to the UNLV Runnin' Rebels basketball game.
I'll be home before you, but if I'm not, don't wait up.
" She flips me off as she dances back to the stove.
The rest of our visit is spent eating and talking about our prospective dates.
Up until tonight, I had not shared with her who I was going to see every evening these past few months while I was here.
When I told her, she whistled and said, "'at a boy!
As long as I've known you too, you've never once mentioned anyone either.
I knew whoever it was, was someone exceptional.
The renovations to the East Wing are very nice.
So how did you two meet? Tell me about her. "
I laugh, embarrassed. "You probably know more than I do about her. I haven't actually met her. Tonight's going to be the first time."
She drops her fork. "You've been stalking her?"