Page 18 of Sprite Wedding
I pulled myself to my feet and glanced around the garden. A shovel rested in a patch of hosta and day lilies. Oh yes, I was going to divide some hosta. Why hadn’t I?
Considering I’d woken up from a siesta on the grass, I must have decided to take a nap. Odd. Why wouldn’t I climb into the hammock or at least a comfortable chair?
A nasty taste lingered on my tongue. My mouth was dry, like I’d eaten a bowl of cotton balls. Oh yes, now I remembered. I’d been about to dig when the dirt hit my face—and then that yucky taste in my mouth.
I went inside the house, filled up a glass with water, and gulped it down. Then I refilled it and downed the second one.
Enough gardening for the day. I entered the living room and put on a Scorpions record, playing “Rock You Like a Hurricane.” Shadow trotted over to me and glanced up out of his green eyes.
“Hey, Shadow-bear, wanna dance?” I shook my shoulders and moved my hips.
He stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
I laughed. “No dancing for you, my furry little friend?” I bent down and shimmied before him. “I’ll have to work on moves for the both of us.”
He scooted backward and then took cover under a coffee table, watching me from under there. Weird. My moves shouldn’t spook him. But whatever, cats were weird. Who knew why they behaved the way they did?
I got into it more, dancing around my living room. Where was Zoe? We could be dancing here together.
I wanted to dance some more, but not here alone in my living room. Where could I go?
Ah, yes. The perfect place sprang to mind. I tapped my chin and nodded. My old stomping ground, Ripped.
That was the club where I’d worked as an exotic dancer. I should go down there tonight. I heard regulars asked about me. They’d said they missed me and wanted me back.
Why not go and give them what they wanted?
I walkedinto my old club. The scent of stale alcohol and lingering beauty products hit my nostrils. The club wasn’t open for the night yet, but staff buzzed preparing.
Rocco, a bartender with graying hair who’d been there the entire time I worked there, jerked his head when he spotted me. “Lucas, what are you doing here?”
I spread my arms and strode in like I owned the place. “I’m back, bitches.” As I headed backstage to get ready, I slapped my ass.
Familiar faces I’d worked with in the past greeted me. “How have you been, Lucas?”
“Great. Just got back from a cruise to Bermuda, and I’m feeling refreshed.”
“Oh, man, I could use a vacation.”
“Then take one.”
Unfamiliar dancers were there as well. Probably newbies. How were they faring in a club like this that could chew you up and spit you out? A veteran like me would show them how it was done.
When I opened my old locker, some guy had his crap in there. Right. It wasn’t mine any more. That meant I didn’t have any of my costumes or props with me. They were back at my place. Sometimes, I brought them out for private showtimes for Zoe.
I should text her and have her come down. She’d love to see me perform like I had back when we’d met. A sexy little road trip down memory lane.
Since I was coming back after several months, I had to do something big. After borrowing different pieces, I asked one of the guys about the schedule.
“You’re not on it.” He handed me a clipboard.
I scanned the sheet of names and the routine planned. “That’s okay, I can go out during amateur hour.”
That started the night. It was a good opportunity to test out new guys who wanted to become a dancer.
“Ha ha ha. You’re hardly an amateur, old man.”
“Yeah, I’m a little rusty, but you never forget. It will be like riding a bike.” I motioned as if holding handlebars.
