Tough Guy: A Hero Club Novel by Jamie Schmidt (the reading list .TXT) 📗

skin, but I was enticed by the innocent temptation of her. Jackie wasn’t intimidated by being alone with me in her underwear, but that didn’t mean she could be an exotic dancer.

“How did she seem?” she asked.

Lisa Mitchell was nothing like her sister. She had been mostly forgettable and a prude. You could tell she didn’t like taking her clothes off and was uncomfortable in her own skin. Jackie seemed right at ease and I wanted to feel her body against mine more than I wanted my next breath.

“Miles?”

“Hmm?” I realized I had been staring and forced myself to look away. What the hell had she asked me? Oh yeah. Her sister. “Broadway was a competent dancer, otherwise I wouldn’t have hired her.”

“Was she strung out or desperate?”

“No. I wouldn’t have hired her if she was.”

“If I prove to you that I can do this, you said you’d let me do a set. That’s not going to be enough.”

“Enough for what?” I asked warily.

“Mina said there was one guy who would come in and always ask for Broadway.”

“Yeah, that’s how it goes. Repeat business.” I rubbed by thumb against my fingers, indicating money. “She must have had something he couldn’t get enough of.”

“Do you think he might show up again? I could hang around and do a few sets. I’d like a chance to talk to him, if he’s a regular customer.”

“I was joking about the set,” I said, staring at her in shock.

“The dancers would warm up to me, if I was one of them.” Jackie paced around the room while she spoke.

I didn’t like the idea of watching other men drool over her. On the other hand, I’d love for her to dance for me. Privately. “That’s not going to work. I need a certain type of dancer.”

“I’m a good dancer. I’m better than Lisa. Now, anyway.” She muttered the last part under her breath.

“This isn’t A Chorus Line and you’re not in a cattle call for a showgirl position.” I gave her a slow once-over. “Although, you’ve got the legs for it.”

“I do?” She smiled as she looked down the line of her legs.

Jackie was going to drive me out of my mind if I didn’t put an end to this and her cute exotic dancer fantasies. “You’d freeze the moment it came to take off your clothes.” I grinned as her lips tightened. “And my clients want to see more skin. And those granny panties aren’t going to cut it on the stage.”

“They’re not granny panties.” Jackie scowled. “You’re just used to women in butt floss. Do you know how uncomfortable that is?”

“No, but I’m told you get used to it.”

“I don’t want to get used to it,” she said.

“I can’t have full nudes because I’m serving alcohol, but you need to show some tits and ass.” Normally, I wouldn’t be so crude but the men who came to my club weren’t going to be as suave and erudite as I was.

Jackie blushed.

I pointed at her adorable pink cheeks. “And that’s why you’re not an exotic dancer.”

“I’m not ashamed of my body,” she said, throwing her arms wide.

“How much have you had to drink?”

Tilting her head, she thought about it. “One at the Spearmint Rhino and one and a half here.”

Hmmm, that didn’t sound like she was drunk.

“I’ve been around show people all my life. Everyone is naked backstage, and no one cares. Hell, I’ve known you all of ten minutes and you don’t see me clutching my pearls.” Jackie struck an innocent pose that made me want to see how wicked she could be.

One of us needed a reality check and I wasn’t sure which one. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t contract you to work at Dalton’s without a Las Vegas business license and you need to be registered with the Nevada Department of Taxation.”

“Did Lisa have all that?”

“Yes.”

“That surprises the hell out of me. Lisa had to have her hand held to do her taxes every year and hated filling out forms. She usually just had me do it. I’m surprised she didn’t call me up and make me file for her.”

“If I had to guess, I’d say because she didn’t want to answer any questions.”

Jackie murmured something that sounded like she agreed with me. Just when I was about to suggest she get dressed and we could get some dinner, she looked up from nibbling on her damn lip again.

“What happens if I get my license and register with the state?”

“How long are you here for?” Fuck me, but she was serious.

“Two weeks. Less, if I can find her.”

“It will take about half that, if you’re lucky. You’d be better off working as a subcontractor with one of the other dancers’ licenses.”

“Could you hire me outright? Like a bartender who dances too.”

“If I gave you a salary and let you dance for tips, I’d have a riot on my hands.” Wait. Why was I even giving this crazy idea serious thought? Because not only did Jackie Mitchell look mouthwatering in her bra and panties, I also liked talking to her. It had been a hard slog these past two years to get Dalton’s to turn a profit. I had to rebuild. Nothing of Uncle Johnny’s Gentlemen’s Club had survived the fire. I worked night and day. Sure, there had been women, but no one who lasted longer than two weeks. I was due for another two-week fling and Jackie was clicking all my buttons.

“What if I split the tips amongst all of the staff, not just the dancers? I’m not in this for the money,” she said.

I couldn’t believe she was still talking about this. I was distracted by the leg lifts she was doing so it took me a full minute to register what she’d just said. “That’s already the wrong attitude. Weren’t you listening?”

“Yes, but I’m here to find my sister, not hustle for tips. If dancing and sharing tips will get me enough goodwill that people will feel free