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“Good-bye, Champion.”
She answered her phone as I exited her office. So, I guess that was done.
Feeling off balance, the way I’d been since Electra, I strode across Plexiglas floors that had a violet glow. I passed an ebony bar that stretched the entire length of the back wall, except for the space set aside for Mercedes’ office.
Every red-upholstered stool in front of the bar had a patron seated on it, even though it was Sunday. All the chairs around pub-height tables were filled too. Waitstaff in short black shorts and white T-shirts that bore the name of the club in fancy purple script where the first letter was a silhouette of a woman were hustling to keep up with men waving cash and credit cards in the air.
I was thirsty. I wanted a drink, but I figured the VIP section would have its own server.
Turning, I headed down the stairs that that led to the stage. There were rows of semicircular booths in red velvet like the bar stools on either side. Every section was filled. A line had wound around outside the building when Zack and I arrived, even though there was only one performance remaining.
Mercedes ran a successful, popular club. I was excited to see her headliner, though I knew I’d be disappointed. There was zero chance of Zack’s plan working. No woman dancing or otherwise was going to interest me after Electra.
“Grab ahold of your drinks,” the handsome black man on the stage said into his cordless microphone. “Grab onto your chairs. Prepare to be dazzled.” He gestured with a flourish. “Here’s Electra.”
“What?” I froze solid, wondering if I’d heard right. No longer looking for Zack, I tried to peer through the smoke that swirled around the stage and a lone ladder in the center. I’d almost convinced myself I’d misheard the MC, but then I saw her.
Electra.
My Electra, I thought, only she wasn’t.
This woman wasn’t fire and ice that was mine to shape. She was untouchable, otherworldly, as the spotlight shone on her. She sparked like a flame wearing a red-sequined jacket with a high collar buttoned up to her chin. It completely covered her shapely top half. A satiny black skirt clung to her hips, and a slit that reached to her upper thigh provided a seductive glimpse of her long legs. Fishnet hose disappeared into her low-heeled black dance shoes.
Looking at her, I drank my fill. I was thirsty, but not for liquid. Lust and longing pounded inside me, along with a hot, roiling wave of jealousy. I scowled at the men surrounding me who followed her with hunger in their eyes like mine.
Her arms flowing like they had in the tree, Electra’s movements drew my gaze now like they had on Saint Croix. Her feet weren’t on a branch, but they seemed to float over the floorboards. The sweeping notes were her steppingstones. She circled the ladder, tiptoeing across a narrow invisible line between hope and despair that only she could see.
The humming of the song became lyrics about survival and doing what was necessary. It was her story. It was about her finding the will to continue after losing her family.
Did anyone else see the pain inside her that I did?
I took another step forward, wanting to ease that pain now, just like then.
She kicked and fell. I stretched out my arms as she spun, then rolled on the stage. She was down long enough for me to worry that she couldn’t get up. But then she rose, gracefully, regally, her chin high and her shoulders back.
Determinedly, she eyed the ladder. Her skirt came off to gasps, then her jacket. I heard groans, including my own.
Electra was nude now except for pasties, fishnet, her shoes, and a pair of red wings that bore a strip of lace that covered her scar.
I licked my dry lips as I watched her grab the ladder. Kicking her legs high, one and then the other, she held on to a rung and spun around it.
Her desire to take flight was palpable, her frustration evident when she released the rung. She danced around the ladder as if to seduce it. Every man in the audience was enraptured by her, including me. She was amazing, mesmerizing with her spirit, heart, and body in sync with the music.
Reaching for the ladder again, she grasped a rung and began to climb it. One step and then another, she rose high above the stage.
I held my breath as the song hit a crescendo. Her elaborate wings unfurled and she leaped. For impossible moments, she was suspended above the smoke that now seemed like clouds.
Then the lights went out. All was dark on the stage and inside the interior of the club.
My heart hammered as I searched the blackness for her. When the lights came back on, my eyes were stinging with emotion, but the woman who had inspired that emotion was gone.
Electra
“TELL ME AGAIN why I have to do this?” Pulling the lapels of my robe together over my tits, I glared at Mercedes.
“Because a client asked for you.” She rapped once on the door where the words private room were written in red and gold lettering. “And you work for me.” Her dark red brows drew together, a sure sign of her displeasure.
“I’ll talk to Zack.” I cranked up my chin. “But that’s all. I’m not doing a lap dance, and I’m not having sex with him.”
