Rock Chick Revolution(132)

“Works for me,” Lottie replied to Smithie and turned to grin at me.

Shit.

“Decided!” Smithie yelled and pointed to me. “Three songs. You pick. Get me the music. I’ll get it to the DJ. You start tonight. Lottie’s first set is at nine. You go on at eight fifty-five. Be f*ckin’ ready.”

My heart started beating. Hard.

Smithie turned to LaTeesha and pulled her out of her chair, murmuring, “Come on, baby. Gotta get you to work.”

After LaTeesha sent us a finger wave, they were gone.

I jumped off the stage, taking my life into my hands because I was wearing platform stripper shoes, and the gang gathered around.

“I sure do wish I was fifty years younger and I could strip,” Ada fortunately noted, and this was fortunately because her doing it cut through my nerves and made me smile.

“I’m sorry I’m going to miss your debut, honey,” Nancy said to me then smiled her gorgeous smile, “But I gotta get home to my hubby. A hubby, incidentally, who has stated he has your back with anything you want to do, but is not about to watch you strip.”

Tex not being there worked for me.

I moved my smile to her then everyone moved as we heard Daisy order, “Make way! Make way!”

They made way and I saw Daisy coming through carrying a big red box with a huge black satin bow.

She plopped it on the stage, turned to me and declared, “We all got together to get you these.”

“Let’s hope this case doesn’t go long or she’ll need more.” I heard Tod whisper. “Then again, maybe not. They were fun to shop for.”

But I was looking at the box because I loved presents and I wasn’t particular about what was inside.

I reached out and yanked on the end of the bow. It came undone and slithered away. I flipped the top open, dug through the tissue and caught my breath as I unearthed all that was inside.

Laying the last bit out, I breathed a reverent, “Righteous.”

“They’re perfect, aren’t they?” Indy asked.

They were. Beyond perfect, whatever that was.

“I’d use some of those for my stage show, too. If I didn’t think Kai would lose his freaking mind, that is,” Stella whispered.

Sadie giggled.

I touched one of the pieces.

“You’ll do great,” Daisy said softly to me.

I looked at her, let my breath out, then turned to the group. I lifted both hands, fingers extended in devil’s horns, and shouted, “Rock on!”

Everyone gave me a devil’s horn, “Rock on!” back.

Even Ada.

* * * * *

Lottie and I sat in the dressing room at Smithie’s.

The back of my neck was prickling and bad.

This was not because I was there, in one of the three new outfits the girls gave me, ready to strip (very soon). Nor was it because I knew the gang was all outside and some of them had not yet seen my performance (though, it should be noted, none of the men were there; not one, including Ren, thank God). It also wasn’t because Smithie and Lottie had introduced me to all the girls, the bouncers, the waitresses and bartenders, because they were all cool.

No. This was because something bad was going down.

Not a little badass’ll-fix-it kind of bad.

Something big.

If I were to say the girls were subdued, what I would mean was, they were subdued. They smiled, they were nice, but they did their jobs, took care in their whispered conversations, and fear permeated the air.

And none of this had anything to do in any visible way with bad guy bouncer, Dan Steiner.

I’d met him and I got it immediately. Friendly, eye contact, lots of smiles and an impressive-seemingly-genuine, “Don’t worry. The guys got your back. You feel trouble, just give us a heads up.”

Smooth. No red flags. No warning signs. He didn’t even give me a once-over.

Totally professional, even as my gut and the look he could not hide behind his friendly smile told me: totally bogus.

“I’m not liking this,” I whispered to Lottie.

“Told you,” she whispered back. “It’s bad.”

“How long has it been going on?” I asked.

“Steiner started about three months ago and this shit started, I don’t know, maybe a month after that.”

“Slow or fast?” I asked.

“What?” she asked back.

“He go girl for girl or did he take them all at once?”

She thought about it and said, “Slow. Girl for girl, I guess.”

“You see any money change hands back here or anywhere?” I went on.

She shook her head.

I looked across the dressing room at Meena, one of the strippers who was on break and re-oiling. She wasn’t avoiding us, but although she smiled and waved when she walked in, she hadn’t approached for any small talk.

“He’s not targeted you because of your cop and Nightingale connection,” I deduced.

“Yeah,” she replied.

“And he’s also keeping the girls clear of you because of the same thing,” I said.

“You think?” she asked. I looked from Meena to her and nodded. “That makes sense,” she concluded.

“Which means whatever they have on their minds, whatever talk they do, they do it when you’re not around so you don’t overhear them.”