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“I’m sure it’ll be awesome,” I tell her honestly.
“I’m just glad we get you tonight,” Maggie says. “I swear, we’re gonna have to arrange a visitation schedule with your new man.”
My eyes jump to her, but she’s smiling, not mad at all. “I guess I have been a bit busy,” I hedge.
Maggie and Ami gawk at me for a split second and then burst out in laughter. “Babe, you come home from work later and later every day, and last weekend, when you were home, I don’t think you picked your head up from the computer for more than ten minutes total. I was throwing cheese cubes at you to make sure you ate something.”
She’s right. Last weekend, I don’t think I slept more than a couple of hours each night. I poured myself into that report, which was totally worth it to hear Dylan say that it was good work. And I have been staying with Dylan longer in the evenings. Our Monday after-work meeting ran way late, and thenTuesday, we ended up at his penthouse. Last night, we went to dinner at a French restaurant with private tables where no one would see or care who I am and who he is.
“Sorry?” I offer, not really sorry but feeling like I should say it, anyway.
Maggie scoffs. “I’m not giving you a hard time. Get your shit rocked and get that bag. I’m just happy you’re here.”
That’s a far cry from where we started when she was all ‘just once’ and ‘be careful’ about this deal with Dylan, and I look at her in surprise, not sure what’s changed. Well, I mean I know what’s changed for me… a whole hell of a lot. But for her?
She tilts her head, reading my mind. “You’re happy. That’s all I care about. Besides, I relinquished all responsibility, so you are not my circus and not my monkey. Especially tonight when I think I’m gonna have to play ringmaster on this one and whip her into shape,Fifty Shadesstyle.” Maggie grins, pointing at Ami, who has lost track of our conversation and is dancing in her seat to the music while her eyes scan the stage in obvious anticipation for the show to start.
“Thanks,” I tell Maggie, and then we both switch off the gushy stuff, focusing on the fun we’re gonna have tonight in honor of Ami’s birthday, which is still officially more than a week away.
The lights dim and the show starts with a bang, literally, as pyrotechnics pop and flash on stage. The entire crowd becomes instant wooo girls, including me and Maggie, with hoots and hollers sounding out from every corner of the room.
The first number is a choreographed dance introduction to each performer as they come out to the center of the stage one-by-one. They’re handsome, I’ll give them that. And the Starlight Revue definitely knows how to cater to almost every taste. Thirty men in all, each unique in their own way even though they’re currently wearing similarcostumes of gray athletic pants and muscle tees that make them look like the world’s sexiest sport team.
I find myself thinking about Dylan… and wondering what he would think of this. I certainly didn’t tell him the girls were dragging me out to a show and don’t-tell night.
After the introduction song, the guys take turns with various themed routines, from cowboys who do some interesting things with their lassos, to a firefighter who gyrates and strips down to a jock strap that barely conceals his cock, and even a military themed performance where several guys do all sorts of acrobatics on an oversized pull-up bar jungle gym.
It's all in good fun, and Ami especially seems to be enjoying herself, crunching on her chips and salsa and catcalling to her favorite performers, which is the point of the evening.
The next act starts and a tall, sandy-blonde, sharp-jawed Adonis with steely blue eyes struts out in black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a power tie. He stalks over to the desk and chair that’s been set up in the middle of the stage, grabbing the chair and spinning it on one leg, his pecs flexed beneath the thin material of his shirt.
Ami fans herself. “Jeezus, is that what your office is like, Raven?”
I snort, shaking my head. “Definitely not.” I get why she’d ask. The guy on stage has the whole powerful boss vibe going on, and though he’s sexy, he’s nothing compared to Dylan’s charisma and magnetism.
A few seconds into Adonis’s routine, he leaps off the stage and into the crowd. Women go insane, screaming and reaching for him, and he smiles as he dances through the tables. Ami sits up taller, straining to see him, and then suddenly, he’s right in front of our table.
He folds at the waist, holding his hand out to me like he’s asking me to dance. But I shake my head wildly. “No, no, no, no,” I mumble, having no intention of going on stage. Forsomanyreasons. Yeah, one is Dylan, and I wouldn’t disrespect him by dancing with a half-naked guy. But also, two, I am not a dancer. I mean, I have rhythm and can do a little wiggle when the time’s right and the alcohol’s been flowing, but that’s on a crowded dance floor, not a stage, in front of people.
“C’mon, I don’t bite… often,” he purrs.
I shake my head some more and then push Ami his way, shouting, “It’s her birthday!”
He takes the hint and holds his hand out to Ami instead, and she promptly grabs it. “Happy birthday to me!” she squeals, letting him pull her to her feet.
And thank God I volunteered Ami as tribute because Adonis squats down, wraps his arms around her thighs, and picks her clean up off the floor, carrying her back to the stage. She ends up sitting in the chair, looking giddy as can be about whatever’s about to happen.
“I don’t think you’ll have to get her a birthday present now,” Maggie shouts, and we lock eyes, laughing.
Adonis gyrates around Ami, sitting in her lap, and ultimately, leaning the chair back to the floor and climbing over her. Ami’s hands are pressed to the floor, which he seems to have instructed her to do, and he runs his nose up her body from her belly button, over her cleavage, to her ear. He grips her hip, and she wraps her legs around him, an active participant in the show at this point.
“I don’t think I’ll ever have to buy her a birthday present again,” I correct when Adonis does some fancy move that scoots the chair from beneath them while he flips them over. In a blink, Adonis’ back is on the floor, his legs bent, and Ami is sitting on his hips like he’s a mechanical bull. When he starts body rolling, holding her firmly in place against him, I send up another silent prayer of thanks that it’s her and not me. The music reaches a crescendo, and Adonis bucks his hips rapid-fire, bouncing Ami roughlywhile she shouts.
And then the stage goes black.
“Holy fuck,” Maggie says. “I think I would’ve embarrassed myself, coming right then and there.” I stare at her wide-eyed.
“Think Ami’s gonna kill me?” I ask, suddenly not so sure. That was… a lot.
