Page 96 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

My heart was racing, my blood pumping faster than it had on my morning run. I entered the casino through the bar, grabbing a bottle of water as I went. Casting my eyes around the room, I did a quick inventory.

The high rollers, with Evie and Ruby.

Lucy over at the blackjack table.

Sienna had found a new mark at a different roulette table.

Nevaeh was behaving herself for once at a poker table in the corner.

That only left…

Carina wasn’t at any of the tables, wasn’t walking around the room like she fucking owned it the way she usually did. My heart thudded then froze as I caught sight of her gorgeous curves and her bright red shoes right before she disappeared through the front door.

I raced that way, not caring what anyone thought. I had to stop her, had to keep her from walking away. I had to know what the fuck was going on with her.

But I didn’t get a chance. By the time I cleared the front door, the only thing I saw was her short black bob as the car she was seated in drove away.

Three

CARINA

A day off for me was more rare than an honest politician. It came from a long history of working every minute to make ends meet, and continued on even now—when my emergency fund was flush with my earnings from those “untoward behaviors” King despised so much.

When I wasn’t working at the club, I was usually waiting tables at Reilly’s Irish Pub, the same bar I’d worked at for far more years than I cared to count.

Tonight, I had a true night off. No waiting tables, like I did the last two nights. No working at the club or spending time with men rich enough to happily fund my penchant for designer bags and shoes without blinking an eye.

Tonight was just me, a bottle of Prosecco, and a few hours spent with my old friend, Leni Harper.

“Please tell me you’re not considering coming back,” Leni said from her seat on the other side of the sectional. “You were miserable at the Minx.”

The Pink Minx—the strip club where Leni and I met.

“It wasn’t that bad,” I said before taking a sip.

“Oh, please. You have a selective memory.” She kicked her feet up on the couch. “You’re as bad as my sister. She’s on her fifth pregnancy and every time she says, ‘It’s not that bad!’ And then during labor, she’s bitching at everyone who walks by to never let her have another, only to forget it a few months later.”

Laughter—true, genuine laughter—was almost as rare for me as a day off. But Leni always knew how to loosen my tongue. My shoulders shook and my heart felt lighter than it had in a long time. “I think stripping and having a baby are very different things.”

“You’re right. They are. At least with stripping, you don’t have to deal with dirty diapers.” She smiled into her wine glass before bringing it to her lips. “You hated the Minx. The pole. The music. The leering and the filthy cash thrown at you every night. And don’t forget the private dances and the men who paw you worse than all my sister’s children combined.”

“Ugh. I did hate that. But at least the money was good.”

“Was being the operative word.” She swung her legs off the couch, giving me her full attention. “This economy sucks, Carina. The men coming in want more and more for less and less. They are so desperate for the show that they try paying us in jewelry and junk like we’re a damn pawn shop.”

A smile crept across my lips. “Maybe you can get some new bling.”

She rolled her eyes. “What would I do with some guy’s wife’s diamond tennis bracelet? It’d get scratched on the pole if I wore it to work. And let’s be honest—finding a man who wants more than a lap dance and a blowy from his stripper girlfriend isn’t easy. Truthfully, if I could afford to get out, I would.”

Tilting my head to one side, I looked her over. Years ago, I’d tried recruiting Leni to the club. Back then, there was money to be found in stripping, and I stopped asking when I couldn’t convince her to give it up.

But now?

Her looks had only gotten better over the years. Her rounded face had slimmed, her body had grown more toned. Years of playing with her clothes, hair, and makeup had given her the experience to know exactly how to set off her best features on the shoestring budget being a stripper often provided.

Leni had always been a favorite at the Minx. Men loved her and women got along with her easily enough—provided she liked them. She was exactly what I’d been looking for.

“I know it’s been a while,” I told her, “but my offer still stands. The Starlight Club could use some new blood, and I think you’d be perfect.”

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