Page 52 of Strip Search

“My percentage is fair,” I said. If word got out that I was willing to drop my cut, I’d be in a load of trouble. “I don’t charge a house fee or make you tip out.”

Although most of the dancers did tip the bus staff, DJs, and bouncers at the end of the night.

“You owe me for being mean to me,” she wheedled.

I had to get this bitch off the phone and go after Jackie. “If you want the job be here Friday night. If not, don’t. You’re getting the same fifty-fifty split as all the other girls, though.”

“I’ll think about it.” She hung up on me.

I rushed through the bar after Jackie.

JACKIE MITCHELL

Oh my God. Miles was a drug dealer. I barely made it to my car before I started to cry. How could I have been so stupid? I pulled out into traffic and headed back to the Strip. I’d go to Pahrump on my own. I should have known better than to get so involved before I knew a thing about Miles aside from the fact he fucked like a Greek god. I didn’t even get a chance to tell him about the audition. I realized I was too upset to drive, so I pulled into a parking garage until I got under control.

Did Lisa leave Dalton’s because she didn’t want to be involved with the drug scene?

Miles was blowing up my phone, but I didn’t want to deal with him right now. Damn it. All I wanted was to ride the buzz of my audition for a little while and have some hot sex with a man I really liked before I had to drive two hours to track down Lisa. I didn’t even know him. And I had no one to blame, but Las Vegas Jackie.

My stomach growled loudly, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. I’d danced my ass off at the audition, so those calories were long gone. Getting out of the car, I decided to grab a late lunch and a few cups of coffee before heading out. Walking down the Strip, I barely registered the sights, but when a convertible started beeping the horn at me it jolted me out of my thoughts. At first glance it was filled with obnoxious, butgorgeous men. I did a double take until I recognized Darcy at the wheel. He pulled to the curb, pissing off everyone on the road, but he didn’t care.

“Want a ride, luv?” he asked, grinning at me.

“Are all Australian men hot? Is it like a requirement for living in the country?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Get in.”

“I don’t think there’s room for me.”

“I’ll make one of these wankers walk.” Then he looked at me closer. “Have you been crying?”

“No,” I said.

Darcy put the car in park and hopped out.

“You can’t park there,” I said.

The guys in the car did vehicular musical chairs and the new driver took off while the others gave Darcy obscene gestures and called him vulgar names. He flipped them off as they sped away.

“They just stranded you,” I said.

“I’ll catch up.” He took hold of my elbow. “Now tell me who made you cry so I can kick his arse.”

“Miles,” I said.

“He’s a tough bloke,” Darcy said. “And he hits like a fucking sledgehammer. Before I go toe-to-toe with him, do you mind telling me what he did?”

“I don’t know where to start,” I said helplessly.

“Where are you heading?”

“I was going to get something to eat.”

“Bonzer. I know the perfect place. Do you like drag queens?”

“Who doesn’t?”

A few minutes later, we were being serenaded by dual Chers singing Abba. I had an enormous iced coffee in front of me with shaved chocolate chips and real whipped cream. Our burgers and fries were on the way.

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