Page 6 of Single Dad's Second Chance

The small vestibule where I paid for our cover was dark and cramped, but I supposed for a temporary waiting place, it served its purpose. That stink from outside didn’t follow in here, and with simple dark carpet and black-painted walls, it seemed cleaner and well-maintained.

“Enjoy the show,” the attendant behind the small window said as she held up the card device for me to sign after paying for our entrance.

“Something like that,” Owen muttered behind me.

I shot him a look and opened the second door to enter. “We’ll give it five minutes. Then we’ll move on to somewhere else.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He walked alongside me, also scoping the dimly lit interior and checking out the surprisingly full house. Many guests sat around tables. Others had seats at high-top tables. It seemed we were late getting here because it took us a good few minutes to snag a couple of chairs. They were closer to the stage, and since the cushions were still warm, I deduced that we only had these chairs because someone must have recently vacated them.

“Where else would you like to go for your belated birthday?” I asked when we sat.

“Eh, this is fine.”

Not.

He continued scoping out the crowd, doubtful and concerned about being here, somewhere clearly below his standards. Danger fell short on my standards. I didn’t go out clubbing or to catch shows often, but I owned clubs and was familiar with how one such establishment should be run. Fifty would be a combination of a traditional nightclubanda cabaret venue, which was different from the other Dunn clubs. It was all the more reason I felt the need to impress, to really make it look good with the dancers. While Owen might be a tougher judge, I was able to tune out the details about the place and focus onwaiting for the show to start. I was here to see the dancers, not to critique a club that wouldn’t be in the same league of competition of a Dunn club.

“We won’t stay long. Just to see if anyone catches my eye.”

“Since you have such expertise in selecting dance and entertainment staff,” he teased.

I smirked and shrugged, being a good sport about it. “The scouts are bringing in nothing new.” I wasn’t an expert, but I was a man. And I could be impressed just the same as all these other people who’d paid to come in here. “Maybe the scouting agency is too stuck on protocol and only considering a select few.”

“I know what you mean.” He nodded, sitting back in his chair. “I watched half of those videos with you, and it’s all meh.”

“Most of the audition videos seemed…”

“Immature?” he guessed.

“Yeah. It seemed like they were cheerleader tryouts or the dancers were ballet fanatics.” While I was sure all the people the scouts found were talented in their own rights, they didn’t spark any intrigue.

“Hey, before the show starts.” He lost his dubious expression and got serious for a moment. “I saw your dad in the office earlier. What’d I miss?”

I shook my head. “Nothing?”

He arched a brow. “Nothing at all? I know he likes to stop in often, but it seemed like he was on a mission.”

“The usual whining about my working too much and never settling down. He?—”

The lights dimmed further, distracting me from talking with this cue that the show was about to begin. Music played low in the background, but it cut out for a newer tune to take over.

I faced the stage and watched as the first dancers came out. All of them looked fine—more than fine—and it was abundantly clear that these were no amateurs. Danger’s exterior wasshoddy and suggested grave neglect, but the flashy, ornamented costumes these professional dancers wore implied that the managers put all their focus and priority on them. They came out with well-practiced choreography. Not a single one missed their step. Every one of them hit their marks and moved effortlessly, like this grand entrance number was something they were simply born to do.

“Holy shit,” Owen said beside me.

I nodded, too riveted with my gaze on the show to reply.

Holy shit was right. Between the lighting and the satiny, flashy clothes the dancers wore, I was instantly wowed. Every woman moved gracefully. Smiles were pasted on without a flinch while the upper half of their faces were covered by intricately designed masks. Their bodies swayed perfectly to the beat of the music, lulling me to want to watch them all at once yet also study them separately.

Relying on the valet’s advice to come here, I hadn’t bothered to actually look into what I was watching. I had no clue what the program was, if they’d stick with a more play-like performance in a naughty musical fashion or deviate into something entirely original.

I wasn’t caught up in trying to figure out what we were watching. I was too busy being impressed with the dancers.

Turning toward Owen’s profile, I noticed a similar look of awe on his face. He grinned, gazing at the stage, but he glanced at me with a smile of surprise.

“It seems the valet was right about?—”

He went slack-jawed at something on the stage, and I faced forward again.

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