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

“No.”

I pushed down the frustration. It wasn’t Becka’s fault that Lisa was Lisa. It just made me crazy. Reaching into my purse, I handed her my business card. “If you can think of anything else, please give me a call. And if you see Lisa, tell her we’re worried, and a quick phone call would go a long way.”

“I will,” Becka said. “And maybe I’ll come by and check out your gig at Dalton’s.”

“You better be a good tipper,” I said.

Chapter Seven

Miles Carvello

I deliberately scheduled Jackie for the shit shift, noon to six p.m. It would very nearly guarantee that she’d have a hard time booking a VIP lounge or a lap dance. Even though it was a Friday, things didn’t get going until later. Unless she was aggressive, she’d collect the tips from the horndogs around the stage and escape their greedy hands mostly unscathed. I wasn’t sure why I cared so much, but the thought of someone else’s hands on her soft skin made me want to punch something.

Of course, I hadn’t counted on Chance and the bachelor party to come in this early. And it figured that they now took up the entire first row around the stage she was going to use. They ordered beers and tipped the waitress a fifty to keep them supplied.

“For someone who’s going to make a killing on liquor this month, you’re not looking too happy,” Highway said, leaning up against the support pole so he could watch both the door and the stage.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” I growled.

“I want to see the new girl.”

That was the problem. Everyone did. During her orientation yesterday, I tried to stay as far away as possible from Jackie. But it hadn’t worked out so well. Mav had said I hovered like a helicopter mom and Kikki remarked that I’d never watched the girls warm up before. The only saving grace was that Jackie looked as distracted by me as I was by her. In the end, I told myself to find something to do in my office or nothing would get done while she and I eye fucked each other.

But of course everyone noticed and it caused more buzz than I would have liked to have given a newly minted stripper. My off-duty staff was here anyway, working the bachelor party, doing lap dances and keeping the Aussies happy. That should have pissed off the on-duty staff, but curiosity was a great equalizer. Everyone was positioned to see the stage, like sharks scenting blood in the ocean. They were going to make her first dance hell and I hoped it scared her off. Jackie Mitchell shouldn’t have to strip because her sister was an inconsiderate bitch.

“What name did she pick?” Highway asked.

“La Vie Bohème. It’s also the name of the song she’s dancing to now.” The somber strains of the song from the musical Rent started, and Jackie slowly strutted out wrapped in what looked like a thousand scarves. She’d told me she spent most of the day yesterday shopping for costumes.

“This sounds like a dud.” Highway frowned as the tempo slightly increased. Every time the chorus of the song said, “La Vie Bohème,” Jackie did a hip bump and a scarf fell to the floor.

“It picks up,” I said.

“She knows they’re not here to see a ballet, right?” he said as Jackie went up on her toe and spun like a ballerina in a music box.

“Just wait.” Jackie had run the concept by him, but hadn’t actually rehearsed the song in front of anyone at the club, which was another reason why it was standing room only out here.

As the lyrics got more suggestive, her hips went wild and the scarves flew in all directions until Jackie was left just wearing pasties over her nipples and hot red booty shorts. She acted out the voice parts, getting the audience involved. She was a natural and a damn good dancer. She leapt and twirled around the pole and it looked like she was floating.

“Are you sure she’s never done this before?” Highway squinted at Jackie.

“To S&M,” she sang with the music, flinging her arms wide.

The Aussies roared and jumped to their feet.

“Holy shit,” Highway croaked.

Jackie slid around like a snake on the stage, accepting bills into the waistband of her shorts. Then she coiled away and slowly sauntered off the stage as the song wound down.

“That was a hell of a way to warm up the room.” Highway said, and went back to his post by the door.

She killed it. I hid a grin behind my hand, ridiculously proud of her. I noticed that some of the dancers weren’t so happy that Jackie had made such a splash on her first number. But they were reaping the benefits of the excited audience. Kikki and Mina took two of the bachelor party guys into the VIP room. Chance was all in, dancing by his chair this time, to Nalia’s gyrations to J Lo and Pitbull’s “On the Floor.”

“Make sure Chance stays off the stage tonight,” I ordered Mav over the headset.

Making my way back to the kitchen, I saw that we were a little short staffed, so I put a load of bar glasses into the dishwasher. “Where is everyone?” I asked Liu, my chef.

“Paulie is a no-show. No answer at his house.” Paulie was the dishwasher. “Dee hasn’t been into work for two days. Her mother hasn’t seen her.” Dee was his sous chef. “And Zeke’s phone has been disconnected.” Zeke was a waiter.

“What the actual fuck?” Was someone stalking my staff, discouraging them from coming to work?

“Something in the water,” Liu grunted as he took stock of the supplies. “I need some help.”

“What can I do?”

Liu gave me a dismissive look. “You can stay the hell out of my kitchen. Go knock heads together and let me create.”

I rolled my eyes. He made the best damn appetizers I’d ever tasted, and he did it cheap and made a