Read Star Crossed (Stargazer) Online
Authors: Jennifer Echols
“Perspicacious.”
“Colton was insistent,” Daniel said. “Of course, I couldn’t explain what my reservations were without telling him more about you than I would ever want him to know. And my turning down the invitation on some sort of moral grounds would not be a manly man thing to do, because duh.”
It was her turn to laugh at his appropriation of her language. He was in rare form. Possibly drunk.
When she stopped laughing, she warned him, “Colton’s going to get seen there at best and videoed there at worst. It’s going to look like he’s not interested in Lorelei at all. Obviously he needs an outlet for his misogyny.”
“Actually,” Daniel said, “Colton and Lorelei came here together on their first adult romp through Vegas last year. So it will be like an elderly couple retracing their steps on their first date.”
Wendy shouldn’t have been surprised anymore at much Lorelei and Colton did. “That’s sweet.”
“That’s why I need you to bring Lorelei down here. Right now Colton looks like a reject at a strip club. When she comes in, it’ll look like a fun, bawdy night they’re enjoying together. We’ll get Lorelei on the pole.”
“We’re
not
getting her on the pole,” Wendy protested.
“I’ll bet she can do it. Wasn’t that a fitness craze in Hollywood recently?”
“That was before her time. Now it’s
boxing
, remember? How much have you had to drink?”
“I was trying to have fun on the job, like you said. Too much fun.” He paused. “Look, just bring her down here, unless you have a better idea. That’s the only way I can think of to solve this right now. Reason only works with Colton when he’s not drunk yet. Now that he’s plastered, even if you have trouble with Lorelei, it’s going to be a lot easier for you to get her in here than for me to get him out of here. We won’t stay long, though. It’s so late already. Just come, let the paparazzi
take pictures of her arriving and the two of them leaving the club together, and we’ll all call it a night.”
Wendy bit her lip. Her stomach turned flips at the thought of venturing into a dark strip club again—this time through the front door.
“Wendy,” Daniel said gently. “Seriously, is this going to bother you? I didn’t intend to make you feel uncomfortable. Surely to God I can figure out something else, or we can start over tomorrow—”
“Tomorrow is too late,” she said. “You know what? I need to get over my strip club stigma. That way I can finally go see my next-door neighbor’s act.”
“She’s a stripper?”
“His boyfriend is a stripper. He himself is more of a burlesque performer.” She glanced back at the poker table where Lorelei and company sat losing their money and looking glum. Her star crashing a strip club might not be
better
press, per se, than her star losing two hundred dollars at poker, but it would be more exciting. “Yes, we’ll be there in a few. Ask Colton to commence the polite but provocative tweets.”
The strip club, long and low, lingered on the outskirts of the Strip, not so close that the casinos could chase it off, but not so far away that the tourists wouldn’t be tempted. The lighted walkway from the parking lot to the building was lined with paparazzi. Wendy’s heart leaped. Daniel’s plan was working. When the two taxis full of Lorelei’s party pulled up, Daniel himself was leaning against a column at the
front entrance with his arms crossed. He walked forward and opened the taxi door for Wendy.
Beside her on the seat, Lorelei said wistfully, “Such a gentleman. The best Colton can do is not slam the door in my face.”
Wendy was more concerned about whether Daniel was, in fact, a horny gentleman. He’d dressed down for once, though he still looked like he’d stepped out of a men’s magazine in a tight designer T-shirt, dark jeans, and expensive shoes. He didn’t seem drunk—he moved smoothly as ever—but his steps and gestures weren’t as big, as if he were purposefully holding himself close to counteract the alcohol. In short, he wasn’t three sheets, but he was probably as loose as Wendy would ever see him.
And as much as she ached to run her hands across his perfectly defined chest, she didn’t want to seduce him. No, she didn’t. She would get in trouble at work, and he would dump her anyway, and it wasn’t worth the heartache. But thanks to their charade, she could
act
like she wanted to seduce him. The night promised to be fun.
She stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” He nuzzled her ear and gently bit her earlobe.
She sucked in a breath, and her eyes darted around the paparazzi as if she’d done something deliciously guilty. But they were focused on Lorelei as she stepped
out of the cab, long legs first. She stopped and talked to the photographers, even hugging one she hadn’t seen in a while. Wendy shook her head. This was the reality of Lorelei. At least there would be gorgeous photos of her online tomorrow, giving the cameras her genuine grin.
Daniel held Wendy’s hand, saluted the bouncer, and led her through the doors into the dark club, music throbbing. One woman shimmied onstage, and strippers boogied around poles throughout the room. About half the patrons were women, Wendy noted with relief. That’s what Sarah had told her about the strip clubs she’d crashed sometimes with their friends in college. Wendy had always opted out. In the club where she’d worked for a week, only men had leered at her.
Daniel squeezed her hand. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. He watched her as if he expected her to elaborate, but she didn’t particularly want to talk. She wanted
him
to talk to
her
again. Every time he put his voice and his breath in her ear, all her blood rushed downward.
“How’s your head?” he asked.
“A lot better,” she answered truthfully.
“I guess you don’t want a drink,” he said doubtfully.
She shook her head. She could have used one, but there was way too much over-the-counter painkiller in her bloodstream for a drink to be safe.
“I’m drinking a soda now myself,” he said. “I had to cut myself off.”
She laughed. “You don’t seem drunk, but you seem very careful.”
Oh,
he treated her to that rare, open laugh she loved so much. “You’re right. It really has been fun tonight. Colton and his posse have become my best buds, which tells you a
lot
about how drunk we all are. Thank you.” He kissed her on the lips.
She hadn’t been expecting the kiss. It was so fast that her heart opened to it after it was over.
Daniel had sat down in a huge booth scattered with shot glasses and entire bottles of liquor. He scooted over to give her room, pulling her by the hand. Obediently she sat beside him. He let go of her hand and sandwiched his fingers between her crossed thighs. It was a signal of possession that was not allowed in polite settings and was barely socially acceptable even in a strip club. Wendy felt like the presence of his hand was a hot rock sinking and melting through the ice of her body. They were fully clothed. They were
not
really together. And she had never been so turned on.
“Where is everybody?” she asked, looking around. Except for them, the booth was empty.
Daniel nodded toward the nearest pole, where a stripper talked with Colton. They didn’t look like they were in intimate conversation. They looked like she was giving him instructions. Colton reached up, braced his hands wide apart on the pole, and pulled himself close to it. He was able to hold his body up for
several seconds before collapsing to the floor. Lorelei and her friends clapped for him as they approached the table. Colton stood and bowed to them, grinning goofily.
“This has been going on for a while,” Daniel said, nodding to Colton’s driver and bodyguard, who stood to one side of the pole as if they’d already taken their turns. “It started out with everybody displaying their big guns.”
He slid his fingers out from between her thighs, making her shiver. He pulled back his T-shirt sleeve to show her his thick bicep. “Go ahead. You can touch it.”
Seeing him like this was hilarious. She humored him by trying and failing to wrap her hand around his upper arm. “Wow,” she said dreamily.
Grinning, he put his arm down. “Then the lady here”—he gestured to the stripper, who was now laughing with both Colton and Lorelei—“came over and told us that pole dancing is the true test of upper body strength. And here we are.”
“Did
you
take a turn on the pole?” Wendy asked in disbelief.
“Ha! I’m not
that
drunk.” He sipped his soda, made a face, and set it down.
Wendy was very glad Lorelei was now hanging out with classy young actresses instead of the reality star and the celebrity hairdresser. These girls had spotless reputations. And they were now taking turns getting instructions from the stripper on how to tackle the
pole. In their company, Lorelei wouldn’t look bad when she inevitably tried it.
Sure enough, Lorelei came bounding up to the booth. She asked Wendy, “Am I allowed to pole dance?” Her face fell. “Don’t look at me that way. It was a fitness craze a few years ago.”
“I know,” Wendy said. “Like boxing!”
Daniel pinched her.
Lorelei still stood in front of Wendy, looking unsure.
“Go ahead,” Wendy said. “I think it’s an okay PR move. Even I know how to pole dance.”
“Yay!” Lorelei jumped up on the small stage. The men in the party gave each other knowing looks as they slid into the booth with Lorelei’s friends to watch. There was an interim while the stripper offered Lorelei some pointers and the men poured Lorelei’s friends some shots. Then Lorelei braced herself on the pole as Colton had. She couldn’t hold herself very long at all, but her dismount was a lot more graceful. She curved her body around the bottom of the pole. The men cheered for her.
“Five point five,” Daniel whispered to Wendy in his dead-on British accent, sounding exactly like an announcer in the summer Olympics. “Five point six. Five point five.”
Wendy was laughing so hard that she didn’t realize Lorelei was standing in front of her again until Daniel nudged her. “What?”
“Your turn!” Lorelei exclaimed. “You just said you knew how to do it.”
“Immersion therapy,” Daniel murmured to Wendy. “Hair of the dog. I dare you.”
Wendy raised her eyebrows. “Oh, you
dare
me, do you? You just want to see me do a pole dance.”
“Duh,” he said.
Wendy told Lorelei, “Let us negotiate for just a second.” She whispered in Daniel’s ear, “We’re supposed to be together. Isn’t this going to ruin your reputation with these guys?”
“Ruin my reputation? You just
made
my reputation. It’s every man’s dream to be with a nice lady who just
happens
by accident to know her way around a stripper pole.”
“Every man’s dream, or every fourteen-year-old boy’s dream?”
“That kind of fantasy doesn’t change with age.”
“Is that right?” She examined him more closely. “Are you okay?”
“Very.” He grinned at her. “Why?”
“You don’t seem like yourself, even taking the drunkenness into account. It’s not like you to tell me what you’re thinking. Suddenly I’m finding out that your mind is as dirty as mine.”
He raised his brows. “You doubted this?”
“Yes.”
He gave her a small, naughty smile. “Never doubt this.”
She threw back her head and laughed. “You’re
sure
you’re okay? I just heard a little hint of British accent.”
“Uh-oh.” He covered his mouth with one hand.
She set her forehead against his and asked, “If I do this for you, what will you do for me?”
His eyes widened, filling her vision, black like the darkest night. Suddenly this bargain had turned serious. His lips parted, but he didn’t say a word.
“Kidding,” she said breathlessly, scooting away from him. “This one’s gratis, in celebration of your newfound fun.” She turned to Lorelei. “Get the DJ to put on some Missy Elliott.”
“Um . . . kay.” Lorelei scampered away.
As Wendy slipped out of the booth, Daniel slid to the seat where she’d been. “Your stripping soundtrack is Missy Elliott?”
“She was very big in 2003, and this was my small protest against the patriarchy. While stripping. I know. Shut up.”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” he said. “Please don’t fall on your injured head.”
“Don’t worry about me. Though bare skin gives you traction. I think it’s going to be harder to do with my clothes on—”
“Keep your clothes on,” he stressed.
“I love it when a man says that to me. So sexy. Instills a lot of confidence.” She laughed at the face he made at her. “Anyway, I don’t think I’ll have trouble. I haven’t done it in ten years, but I’m sure it’s like riding a bicycle, except without the carefree innocent overtones.” The creepy beat of her favorite Missy groove pumped through the speakers. “That’s my cue. Here I go.”
The helpful stripper waited onstage for her. “I don’t need any pointers, if you know what I mean,” Wendy told her. The girl swept her arm toward the pole:
all yours.
The cheers from her booth had gotten so loud that they were attracting the attention of the rest of the bar. Shadowy figures turned their backs on their own pole-dancing ladies and approached their corner of the club, curious. Wendy would have felt intimidated if she hadn’t been good at this.
With a wink at Daniel, she braced herself on the pole as the losers had done, then hefted herself up, splitting her legs on either side of the pole and pointing her toes. The booth was whooping, but she couldn’t pay attention to them. Pole dancing took concentration. She allowed gravity to spin her body down the pole. Then she launched herself up again and wrapped herself around the pole this time, spinning down. After a quick calculation of whether she could hold herself upside down on the pole by her ankles in these particular high-heeled boots, she took a chance on the affirmative.
The hard part was holding herself up by the arms while she balanced her body upside down in the first place. But it
looked
like the real trick was letting go with her hands and hanging there by her feet. She could tell by the slight resistance that her hair was touching the floor, which, strangely, she was beginning not to mind. All of Vegas was finding its way into her hair, and all of Vegas had taken a piece.