G-Men: The Series (7 page)

Table six was close to the horseshoe bar nearest the entrance. I saw the lone gentleman sitting there. He smiled as I approached. He looked like he was in his late fifties, perhaps early sixties. He reminded me of someone that my father might associate with in his line of business. It was obvious the man was a businessman of some sort.

He stood as I got to the table, holding the chair next to him out for me to take a seat.

“Thank you,” I murmured in the husky voice I used exclusively at the club.

“What would you like to drink, Diamond?” he asked, motioning Renaldo over. His voice was soft. It lingered on my name a bit too long, as if he liked the way it felt on his lips and tongue. My creep radar was out big-time.

“Club soda’s fine,” I replied. He placed our drink order, turning his full attention back to me.

“My name’s Harry. I want to know everything about you, Diamond, every last detail.”

This was typical of how these club one-on-one conversations went. Janine had clued me in to develop a fictional story, and then stick with it.

“Well, Harry,” I crooned huskily, “there’s not a lot to tell. I was born in Kansas City. I lost my parents in a car accident when I was just three years old. My grandparents raised me on a farm. Needless to say, this girl wasn’t about to be tied down on a farm for the rest of her life. So, after I graduated high school, I high-tailed it to Chicago. That’s where I learned to dance. I’ve been doing it ever since. I came to Indy about three years ago. Chicago’s not a safe place for a single girl these days.”

“I can imagine,” he said, his eyes were locked on my cleavage. I noticed his tongue dart quickly over his lips. He was totally creeping me out now.

Renaldo brought my club soda and Harry’s martini. Harry didn’t bat an eye when Renaldo collected the $50 from him for this round of drinks.

“What about you, Harry? Tell me a little something about yourself.”

I gave him a smile, as if I was really interested in knowing something about Harry. The truth was, I was close to spitting my club soda down the front of him at this moment, hoping some of it would land in his crotch and dampen his spirits. I wasn’t pleased that his hand was occasionally rearranging his junk while he ogled my tits.

I laughed inside, thinking about how much my demeanor had changed in three short weeks. The influence of the other dancers, bouncers, and even Janine had given me a hard edge that was new to me. I couldn’t imagine saying
junk
and
tits
to Becky.

“So that’s pretty much why I’m here in Indy. I’ll be going back and forth to conclude business for the next couple of months.”

Shit! I hadn’t been paying attention to Harry’s conversation; something about mergers and acquisitions, I think.

“That’s so fascinating, Harry. You must really love what you do,” I commented, as if I’d actually heard him.

“Honestly,” he purred, scooting closer, “I find what you do much more fascinating than anything else. How much for a private dance?”

Thankfully, I was spared giving him an answer right then when a group of bikers came in through the entrance. I knew the bouncers would be congregating nearby.

Bikers weren’t really the type of clientele that the club welcomed. There were about six of them. They took seats at the horseshoe bar. They all had the trademark black leather jackets on, which sported some type of insignia displaying proudly to which biker club they belonged.

Garnet was up on the stage. As she paraded her scantily-clad body just above them, it prompted loud whistles, hoots, and hollers from the bikers. She was eating it up. Garnet loved attention. It mattered little to her from where it came.

Harry was getting impatient, as I’d yet to respond to his question, since my attention had been diverted to the bikers.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“I asked about you giving me a private dance, Diamond.”

“Oh, yes. I mean
no.
I don’t offer that service.”

I could tell this didn’t sit well with Harry. He frowned, as if he wasn’t going to accept my answer. His body language was loud and clear.

“I’m almost sure that the last time I was in here, I was able to get a private dance from one of the girls,” he continued, eyeballing me still.

“That may be so, Harry,” I replied, “I’m sure Garnet, Ruby, Jade, or Pearl would be happy to provide that for you. I, personally, don’t offer that service.”

“Why’s that?”

Relentless prick aren’t you?

“I just don’t,” I replied, not bothering to mask my irritation at this point.

“I’ll certainly compensate you generously, Diamond. Perhaps you’ll reconsider?”

His tongue flicked over his lips again; his eyes were boring into mine. He was a determined son-of-a-bitch, I gave him that.

“Look, Harry,” I said, smiling, “it’s been fun chatting with you, but I do have to get changed for my next number, so if you’ll excuse me, please.”

His hand found my arm as I started to get up from the chair. He grasped it tightly, forcing me to gasp as I turned to face his angry eyes.

Uh . . . got bouncers?

I tried to tug my arm from his grasp. The son-of-a-bitch was stronger than he looked.

“Listen,” he hissed, his voice having lost its softness…

“No,
you
listen, old man. Take your fucking paws off of her and do it now. I believe the lady has declined your invitation.” The voice had a steely edge to it. It had come from behind me.

I turned to see who had come up to the table. I gazed up into the intense blue eyes of one of the bikers. He was tall and muscular, and his thick, dark hair hit just below the collar of his leather jacket. His face was rugged, yet young. He was gorgeous.

I felt Harry’s hand drop from my arm. I pulled it back to my side, instantly aware of those magnificent blue eyes on me, taking a long, leisurely look, as if he was checking for damage. I felt my face flush.

“Are you alright?”

I started to answer when Vince, one of the bouncers, came up to the table.

“Is he causing a problem with you, Diamond?” he asked, nodding his head toward the biker.

I quickly looked up into those smoldering blue eyes and saw his mouth twitch into a slow smile.

God he’s smokin’ hot . . . God I sound like my daughter now.

“Actually no, Vince. He was assisting me with a customer who didn’t understand that I don’t give private dances.”

Vince looked over at Harry, immediately sensing a good paying customer.

“So, are you clear on that now, sir?”

Harry nodded, giving all of us a frown. Vince turned his attention back to the biker.

“Look, dude, we don’t need you butting into our business here. That’s what I do. It’s
my
job to work with the customers and provide clarification, got it?”

The biker didn’t bat an eye at Vince.

“It looks to me like you were a little late on this one,
Ace
. Your customer there had his hands on the girl. Someone needed to step up to the plate here.”

I could see that Vince was now totally pissed off at being taken to task by this biker. I needed to resolve the issue before it became a battle.

“Hey, I appreciate your help, Mr.…. . .”

“Slate,” he said, his eyes locking with mine, “just call me Slate.”

“Thank you, Slate,” I said huskily, my heart skipping a beat.

“Any time, Diamond,” he replied, giving me a sexy smile.

He turned, going back to his group. I watched as he sauntered away, totally mesmerized by his powerful presence. That was the only way that I could describe it. There was a sense of power he exuded, and it was sexy, damn sexy.

“Don’t go there, Diamond,” Vince cautioned. “Bikers are bad news, babe.”

^{chapter 7}

The bus pulled over at my usual stop at the Park and Drive lot. The attendant was on duty until midnight, which gave me a sense of security. He waved as I walked past his station and went to my parking spot.

This is where I parked my car on the nights I worked at Jewels. There was no way I was parking my Mercedes in the club lot, not to mention putting myself in a position to explain why I drove a Mercedes to begin with and then worked as a pole-dancer. It was much easier this way.

I’d changed into my street clothes, leaving my hair and make-up intact until I got home. I had my wig case in the back seat.

Hopefully, I could get into the bathroom off of the main hall and wash the makeup off before I faced Jack, provided he was still awake. He accepted my excuse that this was a girls’ night out with Becky and another mutual friend of ours, Annie. He hadn’t seemed to give it much thought, one way or the other.

I had my routine down pat at the club. I parked my car downtown, then took a bus to the club, and caught the last one incoming at 11:15 p.m. One of the bouncers always walked me out. The bus stop was on the corner, and he waited until I was safely aboard. None of my co-workers knew much about me, with the exception of Janine. I didn’t have to worry about her. She was simply pleased that I wasn’t a twenty-something scatter-brain, as she put it.

My mind drifted back to Slate for perhaps the hundredth time this evening. I shivered thinking of the way his eyes had skimmed over me with an almost appreciative look. My God! What was I thinking? He was probably younger than me, maybe still in his twenties. I needed to get over it. Those days of getting butterflies by fantasizing about bad-boy sex were over.

Hell, for me they’d never begun. Maybe this was all about my lost youth. I quashed it from my mind for the time being.

Luckily, Jack was in bed when I returned home. I showered downstairs and got into a comfortable pair of jammies, curled up on the couch with the remote, and fell asleep. For some reason, I didn’t want to sleep next to Jack.

I was up the following morning to the sound of Jack banging around in the kitchen. I heard him mumbling something, which clued me in that he wasn’t a happy camper at the moment.

I went up to the kitchen from the family room where I’d slept. There was a guest suite right next to it. I’d been tempted to start sleeping in there, just to see if Jack noticed.

“Well,” he said with a hint of irritation in his voice, “it appears that my wife did, in fact, make it home last night. I was beginning to think I’d have to file a missing persons report with the local authorities.”

“Were you worried? That’s new.”

His head snapped up quickly to look at me. He hadn’t expected that I’d get flippant. I actually hadn’t intended for it to come out so sarcastically.

“Actually, no,” he said, his tone every bit as sarcastic as mine had been. “I couldn’t imagine what kind of trouble you could have possibly gotten into with Becky or Annie.”

He gave a slight smirk and continued filling the coffeemaker with water. “What’s for breakfast?”

I walked over to the fridge and opened the door. Thank God we had some eggs. I hadn’t done much grocery shopping over the past couple of weeks.

“Scrambled eggs and toast sound okay?”

“I suppose it’ll have to be, seeing that it looks as if you haven’t been shopping in a while. What are you doing with your time these days, Sammie, besides working out and going to the tanning salon by the looks of it?”

“I’m not tanning. It’s a spray tan that eventually wears off.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“I guess there isn’t one, Jack. I just thought it kind of looked nice. It’s just a healthy bit of color. I don’t think the technician overdid it.”

“Let me make my point, Sammie, since you have failed to make yours. I’m busting my ass working for your father’s company to provide you with this home and a lot of extras. I don’t think it’s too much to expect that when I’m home the laundry is caught up, and there is food in the house. I had to run a load of towels through the wash again because you failed to put them in the dryer in a timely fashion. There was a mildew odor to them when I went to use one after my shower last night. I have four shirts that need ironing, and right now, I’d appreciate some breakfast. Those are your responsibilities and always have been. Do you understand?”

“Yep,” I grumbled, turning away from him.

He hauled me back to face him. My eyes widened and I swallowed nervously. This was new territory for me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d made Jack angry. I’d simply never given him reason before, since my activities had always been oriented to seeing to his and Lindsey’s needs, without delay or error.

“I’m not finished yet. I’ll be traveling extensively the next four to five weeks. I’ll be home by Christmas, but I have to do training presentations to the marketing groups at four of our sales facilities in order to compete for R & D money. You will need to step up to the plate and start handling the bill paying activities. I’ve just got too many other things on my mind.”

I’ll bet.

“Sure,” I replied. “We can go over them before you leave again so that I can take over. Not a problem.”

“Okay, then,” he said, releasing my arm. “I’ll have my breakfast upstairs in the study when it’s ready.”