Their eyes connected and for a moment Chantelle forgot to breathe.
No man could be that perfectly handsome!
It had to be because she was upside down, she realized and smiled as she automatically righted herself and spun to face forward again, all without missing a beat.
Oh God!
He was even better looking the right side up! And he was staring at her as though he’d been starved for months and she was the first morsel of food he’d come across.
She continued her routine by sheer instinct, her heart thumping against her ribcage. It wasn’t possible that he could be as affected by her as she was him…and yet he seemed shell shocked, too. She had always scoffed at the concept of ‘love at first sight’. Heck, she hardly believed in ‘lust at first sight’, but something weird had happened when their eyes had connected and even now she couldn’t pull her gaze away.
Her heart kept up its erratic beat, as if it wanted to break free and run to him where it belonged…or run as far away as possible before he enslaved it., she thought fancifully as she finally dragged her eyes away, bowed and left the stage.
Her legs felt barely able to support her as she stumbled to her dressing room.
What the hell had just happened?
***
“Come here,” Russell beckoned one of the waitress as the song came to an end. “Tell that dancer I’ll give her £1000 to give me and my friend here a private lap dance.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the woman apologized. “She doesn’t give private dances.”
“Tell her I’ll pay £5,000, then.”
The waitress’s eyes widened at the sum.
“Okay, I will tell her,” she agreed, “but she might still refuse.”
“She won’t refuse,” Russell said arrogantly. “That’s more money than she’s ever seen in her life.”
The waitress hurried to do Russell’s bidding.
“I bet she refuses,” Dominic warned the other man.
“You wanna bet?”
“Actually, let’s make it an official. If she accepts, I will pay for the lap dance. If she refuses, you sell me the property at the price I offered today.”
“Deal!” The man confidently pumped Dominic’s hand and then slouched back against his chair with a smile.
Dominic felt confident too, although he had pretty much sealed his fate with the all-or-nothing offer. The woman had a look that was out of place even in the classier-than-average strip joint. He sensed that she wouldn’t be tempted unless the sum was large enough for her to quit.
The waitress came hurrying back to them and Dominic barely resisted the urge to punch the air in triumph—from the look on her face he knew she wasn’t returning with a positive answer.
“I’m sorry, sir. She said that she’s not interested.”
“Bloody stupid bitch!” Russell snarled in disbelief.
“I’ll be at your office at noon tomorrow.” Dominic didn’t lose any time in reminding the older man that they’d had a deal and he’d lost.
“Fine!” The man stood up and stormed out, seeming to have forgotten that Dominic had accompanied him to the club in his Hummer.
Jubilant, Dominic sat back and savored several sips of his cognac—his chauffeur was only a phone call away.
The waitress who had delivered the message was passing again, this time with an empty tray and heading towards the bar. Dominic raised his hand and called her over.
“Tell her I said to name her price.”
“Sir, I don’t—”
“Just ask her, please.” He gave her the smile his mother called his lethal weapon and the woman smiled in return.
“Okay,” she agreed, but didn’t look hopeful.
Less than five minutes later she hurried back to him, looking pretty much the way she’d done when she’d given Russell the bad news.
Prepared for another refusal, Dominic was stunned when she informed him, “She said £50,000 in cash.
“No problem,” he assured the woman, with another warm smile. He had read the dancer correctly—she was looking for nothing less than quitting money. If she’d asked for twice the sum, he would have still agreed to pay it.
The waitress blinked in surprise at his response. “She also wants to check the notes before she gives you the dance.”
“By all means,” he agreed. He was liking the dance’s style more and more. “What time does she leave the club?”
“She leaves at one.”
“Tell her that I’ll have the money ready by time she’s finished.”
Dominic pressed some notes into the woman’s hand, then stood up and walked out of the club, pulling out his mobile phone and speed dialing his chauffeur’s number as he approached the door.
“Alvin,” he said, when the man answered after the second ring. “Tell Rogers I need four of the brown envelopes from my desk drawer. Bring them here to me at Armstrong’s in an hour’s time.”
“Yes, boss.”
Dominic smiled and shook his head. He had given up asking Alvin to not call him “boss”. “Mr. O’Brien” would sound less formal, but it was better than being called “sir”, he’d decided and accepted that the man would never call him by his first name although they were almost the same age.
If Alvin Thomas wondered what his employer was doing at the elite strip club, he knew better than to ask. He quickly confirmed the instructions and hung up aware of the short time window.
***
“He agreed!” Tiffany burst into the tiny dressing room, grinning as if she’d won the lottery. She opened her hand and revealed several crumbled fifty pound notes, her grin widening until it almost split her face. “And my God! Look, he gave me all of these!”
“He’s insane!” Chantelle gasped. Her ridiculous demand of £50,000 had been a joke she’d expected him to laugh off. “Are you sure he’s right in the head?”
“He looks fine to me. Too bloody fine!” Tiffany closed her eyes and faked a moan of satisfaction. “Honey, if I was a dancer I would give him a lap dance for free!”
Chantelle laughed as the woman graphically demonstrated the kind of lap dance she wanted to give the man.
“You should be on stage, girlfriend! I’ll have to tell Colin that you’re wasting your talent.”
“Shit! I better get back before he comes looking for my ass!” The woman laughed and raced out of the room, stuffing the notes she had quickly and skillfully folded into a neat rectangle up under her large breasts, where Chantelle suspected it would stay hidden until the woman’s next break when she could discreetly slip it into her purse. Waitresses usually shared tips, but the sum the man had given Tiffany was more than her week’s wages.
As the door closed behind the woman, Chantelle’s legs gave way as reality stepped in. She felt blindly behind her for the chair she’d been sitting on and sat down again, heavily.
Mother of God! £50,000!
She had been tempted by the offer of £5,000. It would have meant giving both him and the shorter, older man at the table a lap dance. It would have also meant that she could have taken some time off in the weeks before and during her final exams, using the money instead of working.
But then she’d remember her body’s strange reaction to the younger man and changed her mind about getting that close to him.
She would be just fine, she decided, as long as she kept to the study timetable she’d devised.
Then Tiffany had returned and told her that the older man had left in a huff and Mr. Sinfully Handsome was asking Chantelle to name her price.
She had automatically quoted the sum she prayed she’d win each week when she played her single line of numbers on the National Lottery. Most players wanted to hit the jackpot; all she’d ever hoped for was enough to get her alcoholic mother back home to Jamaica in the care of her grandparents and have enough remaining to take care of living expenses for her and her three sibling until she graduated and found a job.
On her opening night, she had convinced Colin that she didn’t need to strip completely—that a miniscule bra and thong would be classier than being completely nude. He hadn’t been thrilled, saying that he wouldn’t have hired her if he’d known that she had a problem getting naked. She’d assured him that she would strip if she had to, but begged him to let her try it her way first. The men had, of course, loudly voiced their displeasure at the end of the song. But most had cheered enthusiastically when she’d given an encore performance. Pleased with the crowd’s response, Colin had paid her £500 net instead of gross, from that very first night.
Chantelle had used the unexpected extra money to buy her siblings some of the little luxuries they had been denied over the years without complaining. Grateful to finally own one, her brother had been willing to have an iPhone 3 or 4, but she’d insisted on buying him the latest version. He looked after his possessions and was likely to have it for quite some time.