Authors: Kris Starr
“Oh, you’re such a wicked girl,” Jordan said, the smirk on
his face evident in his tone. “I’ll give you every last naughty detail, if you
want.”
“Always, J.” Julia disconnected the call and returned to the
armchair, somewhat deflated. If Jack was nowhere to be found, how could she
tell him how she felt?
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and Nelson
appeared.
“Showtime, Kitty,” he said with an approving glance at her
appearance. “Love it, Mick is going to explode over this.”
Julia forced a smile to her lips. “Thanks. Give me just one
second, Nelson.” She rose and crossed to the mirror, giving herself a
once-over. Reasonably satisfied, she picked up her drink glass and swallowed
the last couple of mouthfuls of liquid.
Departing the room, they headed down the hallway, deeper
into the house. Opulence lay around every corner in the form of original
artwork and sculpture by various artists, along with luxe leather and mahogany
furniture, but Julia was mostly oblivious. Part of her brain realized she might
want to pay closer attention to her surroundings, that this was a
once-in-a-lifetime chance, but she found she simply couldn’t bring herself to
care.
“We’re heading to the ballroom, where the party’s being
held. We’ve got about one hundred and fifty guests here tonight. Mr. Sweetham
is rumored to be up for a couple of Grammy awards this year, and he wanted to
throw this bash before the nominations are announced in a couple of days.”
Nelson grinned at Julia. “Good karma, and all that.” They turned a corner and
moved down yet another hallway. “Anyway, bottom line is, it’s a really hyped,
excited crowd out there. They’re celebrating already, and they’ll get crazier
when they find out you’re here.”
Julia nodded, forcing a smile onto her lips and eagerness
into her voice. “That’s great.” She had to think of something else other than
the crowd that waited for the famous Kitty Red. “He definitely deserves those
award nominations. I really love Mick’s stuff,” she said, relieved to not have
to fake her enthusiasm on that point, at least. She glanced around herself.
“This place is huge, isn’t it?”
Nelson nodded and grinned. “It takes a while before you stop
getting lost on your way to the bathroom. Don’t worry, I won’t make you try to
find your own way back to the suite. I’ll be escorting you. We’re almost at the
ballroom now.”
The bass thump grew louder and Julia mentally reached
inside, giving her party-starter core a poke.
Nothing.
No reaction.
Her stomach did a small, familiar roll of anxiety. Where was
it? Why couldn’t she get going? Trying something different, she threw more
swing into her hips, more attitude into her stride, consciously aware of the
movements, and yet…still nothing.
Her heart started to pound a little harder, the truth coming
abruptly to light. She didn’t want to do this job. She didn’t want to be here.
Then how in the hell was she going to pull this off? And why did this whole
scenario feel so wrong? So incongruous? She’d felt this way before, she was
certain of it, but when? And what did it mean? She frantically searched her
brain, trying to grasp tight to the sensation, identify it, figure out what it
was that was making her crazy.
Nelson interrupted her reverie.
“A circular platform-cum-dance floor has been erected in the
center of the room,” he was saying, “and it’s mainly for you, but it can also
be opened up to anyone else at the party, at your discretion. Of course, you’re
also free to mingle with the crowd and basically do whatever strikes you.” He
sent her a glance, and Julia prayed her distress wasn’t obvious on her face.
She nodded abruptly.
“You’re scheduled to perform from midnight to five a.m.,
with breaks every hour. Basically, I’m your go-to guy. You want the DJ to play
different music? Let me know. Anybody getting too far into your personal space?
Give me a signal, and I’ll get security involved. I’ll be in the room the
entire time. At five o’clock, you’ll be escorted back to your suite. There are
toiletries, towels and sleepwear in the closet, and the staff will have a
selection of food and drinks delivered to the room prior to five. We’ve given
you the use of that room until three p.m., so I’ll come and get you at that
point, unless you decide you’d like to leave earlier. If that’s the case, just
dial that 7-7-7 number, like I told you before.”
They came to the end of a long, dimly-lit hallway where a
pair of French doors stood closed. Spotlights and lasers flickered on the other
side, casting frenetic shadows of many gyrating bodies on the thick linen
curtains covering the beveled glass.
A giant rubber band was squeezing Julia’s chest tighter and
tighter. This felt so, so wrong. She wasn’t ready. She couldn’t do this alone.
She needed Jack, but Jack was nowhere to be found.
“Kitty?” Nelson’s gaze held a touch of concern. “No problems
with what I just told you? Now’s the time to make your last-minute requests, if
you have any.”
Julia shook her head a little too quickly, making the
hallway tilt and whirl. “No, no, Nelson. That’s all fine. And I actually do
have one request. Could I get a bottle of merlot or shiraz for the suite
afterward?” She’d need it after this show. And if there was a full-size bathtub
in the ensuite, even better. Because the way things were shaping up, she was
going to need to relax and de-stress.
“Absolutely. I’ll have that taken care of for you.” He
glanced at the heavy gold watch on his wrist. “Okay. You ready?”
Julia nodded. “Yeah.”
About as ready as I’ll ever be.
Nelson spoke into a walkie-talkie. “We’re ready out here,
Jim. Give Mr. Sweetham the cue.” He pulled the French doors open just a crack.
Julia craned her neck to peer through the opening as best she could, but the
room was mostly dark, and the dancing pyrotechnics didn’t allow for a good
view. The music faded, and there were the shuffling sounds of a microphone
being passed around.
“Oi, mates!” Mick Sweetham’s thick accent boomed from the
speakers. “Are y’having fun yet?”
Catcalls and cheers answered his question.
“Good, good. Now, have I got a surprise for you lot. Anybody
here ever heard of a bird named Kitty Red?”
Excited screams filled the room, and a tiny thrill of
pleasure rippled through Julia’s belly. She might not be completely ready to do
this show, but the crowd was ready for her. And that was a big help. Julia took
a deep breath. All she had to do was get through tonight, make Mick Sweetham
happy, and then she could deal with the rest of her stupid, mixed-up life afterward.
Fake it ‘til you make it, baby. That’s all you can do.
“I see you have, then,” Mick continued. “What would you say
if I told you she was here tonight, to party with us?”
Cataclysmic noise exploded from the other side of the doors.
Julia shifted her weight from foot to foot, a knot of anticipation growing in
her belly.
“Yeah!” Mick boomed loudly into the microphone. “Jim, if you
will…” Julia’s theme song began to play, the familiar notes wrapping themselves
around her tense body. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the one, the only,
Kitty Red!”
Nelson took hold of the door handles and glanced at Julia.
“You’re on, Kitty. Knock ’em dead!”
Julia gave the man a swift smile then struck a pose as the
French doors flew open.
A rush of heat washed over her, the temperature in the
ballroom several degrees warmer than the hallway, compounded by the sudden
flash of a spotlight that instantly blinded her. A cry of excitement pierced
the air, and Julia felt more than saw the movement of bodies and heads as people
turned toward the doors.
The roiling in Julia’s stomach settled by a few degrees with
the familiarity of the scene. It was just a job. She could do this. And hell,
she might even end up having fun at the same time.
As her eyes began to adjust to the altered lighting, the
muted shine of cell phone screens and camera flashes exploded like tiny stars
around her. The spotlight moved, thankfully, illuminating the raised platform
in the center of the room, ready for her just as Nelson indicated it would be.
A lean, lanky figure stood in the center of the platform, dressed in worn jeans
and a leather jacket, his salt-and-pepper hair wildly mussed. Sweetham brought
his hands together to applaud, and Julia blew him a kiss. He jokingly clutched
his chest, and then brought the mic up to his mouth again.
“Delicious! Kitty, baby, c’mon up here!” Mick’s voice boomed
over the music, and he motioned her toward him with one hand.
Sweetham’s words jerked her into motion, and she began to
dance her way to the platform, the euphoria of the crowd slowly seeping into
her skin. The tension that had knotted her shoulders began to loosen, and Julia
exhaled forcefully with relief. This job was going to be so much easier to do
if she could just relax and not think about…him.
Pushing Jack’s image out of her mind she focused on the
bodies around her. The young and pretty were out in full force, by the looks of
things. Scantily clad sweet young things gyrated and grooved with each other,
plastic cups holding their poison of choice high in the air. She recognized a
number of famous faces in the crowd, actors and musicians, but didn’t stop to
ogle. She had a job to focus on.
Julia made her way through the crowd, playfully stroking
hair and skin as she went. Most returned the favor, and the friction of warm
flesh against hers sent a huge shiver up her spine.
Yes, yes. The touch of skin, the heat, the scent of men and
women alike—Julia inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the intoxicating
perfume. The room smelled like sex already, and a tiny shudder rippled through
her. Better. This was a step in the right direction.
Fake it, fake it, fake it
, her brain continued to
chant quietly in the back of her head. You can do this.
She reached the platform and Mick held out a hand to help
her up. He bowed to her, dropping a kiss on the back of her hand, and Julia
danced around him, shimmying and grinding. A tiny giggle escaped her when she
realized she was rubbing her body against that of a rock legend—who could ever
have imagined it?—but here she was. And dammit, she was going to knock his
socks off. Which, by the look on Sweetham’s face, might not be that hard to do.
He grinned madly at her, his gaze locked onto her body.
Julia gave him a wink, and as the final bars of her song
played, she threw in a couple of new moves she’d been practicing. The crowd
reacted with an explosion of applause, and Mick reached for her hand again,
pulling her close to him.
“Fuck me, luv,” he said into the microphone, “that was
bloody amazing.”
Julia slid her arms around the man, leaning in to kiss his
cheek. “Thank you,” she responded, giving the crowd a naughty grin, “but that
was only the beginning.”
Mick guffawed loudly, giving her a squeeze. “Then you’re
gonna give me a heart attack before the night’s over.”
Julia leaned over to the mic again, gazing out at the
partiers with a knowing look. She drew a breath to speak, but a flash of green
deep in the crowd caught her attention and the air stuttered out of her lungs.
Jack…? No. Couldn’t be. She peered into the darkness, the faces in front of her
blurring into an indistinguishable mass, but he wasn’t there. Some kind of
crazy lighting fluke, that was all. She just had Jack on the brain. So
preoccupied with the idea of him that any little thing brought him to the
forefront.
Suddenly, Julia realized Mick was waiting expectantly for
her to speak. She forced her lips into a smile and murmured, “Then I guess it’s
a good thing I know how to give mouth-to-mouth.” Her emphasis wasn’t lost on
anyone. The guests whooped in agreement, Sweetham’s crow of laughter the
loudest.
“Well, then,” Sweetham said with a chuckle, “the sooner you
get started, luv, the sooner I can get that mouth-to-mouth. The stage is yours,
Miss Red.” He waved toward the corner, where a DJ sat behind a massive expanse of
equipment before turning his attention back to the crowded ballroom. “All
right, mates! Let’s get this party started!”
Mick stepped down off the platform to raucous cheers and
applause, but not before embracing Julia one more time. She returned his squeeze,
then struck a new pose as the spotlight dimmed and a heavy drum beat began to
reverberate through the room.
The sultry melody began to weave its way around Julia,
sliding over her skin like satin ribbons until she recognized the tune and a
band of apprehension tightened around her chest.
Damn.
After spending the day in turns anxious, regretful and
inexplicably annoyed and frustrated, it figured that the DJ would choose the
worst track possible for her to perform to. The one that had played on Jack’s
cell phone while she pole danced for him.
Dammit, dammit, dammit…
The spotlight rose on her once again, but Julia’s boots felt
as though they were glued to the platform. Memory froze her in place,
incarcerating her in a cell constructed of powerful emotions. Fuck, she should
have thought of this, should have given Nelson a vetoed list of tracks for the
DJ, but the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. Images from that night
flickered before her eyes in a kinky slideshow, making her heart thump so
violently in her chest she feared it might burst through her rib cage.
Julia tried to take a deep breath but her lungs were
clogged, compressed. Lightheaded, Julia blinked rapidly, watching the room rock
slightly before her eyes. She was going to pass out soon if she didn’t do
something.
And it wasn’t just the lack of oxygen giving her pause.
Julia suddenly became very aware of every single body in the room. Her lack of
movement had the crowd just as confused as she was. Dancers had stopped moving,
now simply standing still and watching her, and a disgruntled rumble grew
audibly louder.