Passionate Bid (12 page)

Without a doubt, this woman possessed the greatest body he had ever seen.

Georgina, he bet, would kill to have a waistline and flat abs like this goddess. It must have taken her years of practice to move like that—slow, sensual, provocative. And to have such a small waist—damn. He could wrap his fingers around her waist while she was on all fours and he standing behind her. Someone whistled.

Julian took a sip of his beer, cursing the primal beast inside him for thinking lustful thoughts.

The dancer flipped her long cascading dark brown hair. Lights made it shine so beautifully. Julian thought the woman”s hair was her other weapon, on top of her spectacular figure.

When the music picked up a faster beat, the woman”s seductive movements quickened as well.

The crowd came back to life and started throwing money on stage, calling the dancer”s name. He noticed the dancer mixed Jazz, modern, and ballet in her movements. She arched and swayed her body as if there were invincible hands caressing her and she was responding to the touch. Her mouth was slightly open, a thin sheen of perspiration shone above her lips. Julian stood mesmerized. He”d never seen anyone dance so erotically the way she did. She looked like she was making love and on the verge of having her orgasm.

He couldn”t take his eyes off of her.

It was amazing how she held the men enthralled, including him. Surely, if his body were on fire, he”d bet his Porsche the rest of the men were, too.

Julian continued to watch, ignoring the warm bottle of beer in his hand. The woman looked his way. Through her mask, he could see her eyes almost unblinking. She stared at him. He must have distracted her because she stumbled a bit. What, did he make her nervous? She started biting her lower lip and her tongued darted in and out the way Joanie would when… Goddamn son of a bitch! He narrowed his eyes. No fucking way. Could she be Joanie? He turned around to find Sweetmelon.

Sweetmelon was standing by the bar watching the dancer, too. He wound his way to her. “Tell me. What is Cherrybomb”s real name?”

“Get in line, handsome. See those men, they”ve been asking for Cherrybomb”s real name since she started working here. Bogart told us not to tell anyone. It”s private.”

Julian took out his wallet and offered her a hundred dollar bill. It was too much, but he didn”t like bargaining. “Tell me.”

“Customers are not allowed to know—”

“I”m sure I can find someone here who will give me the dancers name in exchange of a hundred dollars.”

“Jesus! I knew I should be dancing on that stage. Men would not only pay to see me dance, but pay just to know my real identity. But damn Bogart said the cedar trees could swing better than me.”

“Do you want the money or not?”

“One C note isn”t gonna help you. I”ve been offered more than that.”

“Here. Two hundred. Tell me her name.”

“Fine.” Sweetmelon snatched the money out of his hand, then looked toward Bogart. The man was so busy watching the dancer he wouldn”t know if his restaurant was on fire. “Well, I can tell you but promise not to tell anyone.” Julian nodded. He had a feeling he already knew who Cherrybomb was, but he wanted to hear Sweetmelon confirm his suspicion. “I promise.”

“That”s our star dancer, Joanie Saint Claire.”

“Goddamn it!”

“Hey, you promised not to tell anyone. My ass will get fired for telling you.”

“How long has she been doing this?”

“Almost two weeks, I think. She started a few days after her father died. She used to live in Seattle, you know. She had that city like air around her before. Not anymore. I heard she moved here because some loser knocked her up and left her like an old broken down car on the side of the road. Her kid”s gonna be four-years-old soon, I think. Sexy for a mother, huh?”

Sexy. She was a goddess dancing in hell. “Damn it, Joanie,” he mumbled.

“Don”t tell Joanie I squealed on her.”

“Tell me how do I get to the back stage?”

“Now that”s another—”

“Tell me or I”ll have this joint shut down for failing to follow proper safety codes. You”ll find yourself looking for another job. Take me to the backstage.”

“Oh God, you”re really gonna get my ass kicked all the way to China.”

“Sweetmelon, I swear I”ll do what I can to get you another job. Just take me to the backstage. Or I”ll find it myself.”

“Why? Got the hots for her? All men here have boners—”

“Chrimanysakes, Sweetmelon!”

“You”re one eager…Wait a minute. Do you know Joanie?”

“Yeah, I know her. Intimately.” Julian stressed the last word.

“Intimately? Oh, crap.” Sweetmelon spat her gum on her hand. “You”re the one who knocked her up and—”

“Yes. The loser who left her on the road like a broken down car.” Sweetmelon”s eyes grew big. She popped the gum back in her mouth and chewed it faster than a hungry goat. “Now this is better than a Lifetime television show. Follow me.”

Joanie spotted Julian right away. She wanted to run back to her dressing room, but Bogart had already threatened he”d fire her heinie if she didn”t dance tonight. What the hell was Julian doing here, anyway? She continued dancing, but her body felt stiff, she might as well do the strut or do a jig. She tried concentrating again. Beaches, famous rock, white-capped waves…Ah, drat! She couldn”t. Blocking the sound, stale smell of beer and sweat was impossible now that her concentration was broken. Thanks to Julian.

Now where the hell is he going? Why is he talking to Sweetmelon? She did a pirouette.

When she glanced back to the spot where she had spotted Julian, he was gone.

Damn the man. Did he recognize her? Maybe not. And maybe he didn”t like her performance so he decided to leave. Joanie wished the music would play fast.

Seeing Julian among the crowd had made her uncomfortable. What if he indeed recognized her? Oh my god. Would he use her dancing against her so he could take Sam away? Her steps faltered. Luckily, the men were more interested in staring at her body than her dance movements.

Bill tried reaching for her calf. She stepped back and smiled at him. The fool was so drunk he probably didn”t realize he just threw her a fifty-dollar bill. Joanie made a mental note to give Marie the money back. She”d tell her Bill dropped the money under the table because he was so drunk. God, his family needed the money more that she did.

Finally, the music ended. She forced a smile on her face and made super low bows—to the left, right and middle. The bowing was Bogart”s idea. To give the audience a chance to see every side of her, he said.

She blew the audience a kiss before turning around. She sashayed her hips until she reached the curtains. Once the curtain closed behind her, she took off running. But she didn”t make it far enough to reach her dressing room. She hit something solid. A chest. Julian”s chest.

“Yaikkss!”

She looked up and met Julian”s angry glare. He blocked her path and practically smothered her with his coat.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I should ask you that question. What the hell are you doing? No. What are you thinking?”

“What do you mean? I”m working. Didn”t I tell you that this morning?”

“You said you”re a waitress.” He wrapped his arm around her and dragged her with him. “One who serves beer and chips to fucking drunks?”

“I am a waitress in the morning and a dancer late in the afternoon.”

“Good God! Can”t you just be a waitress morning, afternoon, and night?” Joanie dug her heels on the floor, forcing Julian to stop. “I can”t work at night. Sam needs me at home.”

“But it”s night time and you”re working. Get your fucking story straight.”

“I work when Mark and Dana can watch her. And for your information, I make more money being a dancer. And dancing is decent.”

“Not if you show your ass and boobs for everyone to ogle.”

“So what? That”s the plan. Those men come here to see me on stage. They look but I never let anyone touch me while I dance.” She removed the coat off her shoulders and shoved it to Julian”s chest.

“The way those men looked at you, it didn”t matter whether you let them touch you or not. To them—in their heads—they were fu—feeling you.”

“Is that what you”re thinking when you watched me dance?” she blurted.

Julian pierced her with his angry blue eyes. His nostrils flared and jaw locked tight. She noticed his chest was heaving. Lord, he looked like a mad rhino.

But why? What the hell ticked him off?

“Let”s go home,” he said in a nasty demanding tone. “I think I inhaled enough second-hand smoke here to turn my lungs black.”

He didn”t answer her question, but she had a feeling she wouldn”t have liked his answer anyway. “I can”t go home. I still have an hour left.”

“Joanie, don”t be a fool. A woman like you should be at home. Let”s go.” Once again, he wrapped his coat around her.

“I can”t. I”ll lose my—”

“Joanie, what”s going on?” It was Bogart twirling his baseball bat like a baton.

“Nothing, Bogart. This is a friend of mine and he”s going to drive me home.”

“You know you”re not done for tonight.”

“I know. That”s what I kept telling him.”

“She is done here forever,” Julian said, putting heavy stress on each word.

“I am?”

“Let”s go, Joanie.” Julian tugged her hand.

“She can”t be done here.” Bogart moved, intending to block them.

“Yes, she can. Why? Because I said she is. Now move out of our way.” Julian snarled.

“Better watch your tone. We don”t bow to anyone wearing fancy shirts and shoes here. Take your arrogance back where you came from. Don”t forget where you are.”

“Believe me, I know where I am. Hell on earth. Now, move.”

“She works for me, jackass. I decide whether she can leave early or not.”

“Fuck you and your barn. I”m taking Joanie with me.”

“You”re a stupid man in a fancy outfit. Didn”t you hear what I said? She can”t leave this soon and definitely not forever.”

“Why?”

“She owes me money.” Bogart pointed the tip of his bat at Joanie and then he began smacking the bat on the palm of his hand.

“Do you owe him money, Joanie?”

“No.”

“My ass! You owe me. For the damage in the kitchen, stove, and wasted food. You can”t leave this place without paying me back.”

“You didn”t tell me I have to pay for those.”

“Why do you think I kept you?”

“Because you need me. I brought in more customers since I started dancing here. I don”t owe you money. And it wasn”t my fault your stove was faulty.”

“Faulty? You lying whore!”

Smack! Julian punched Bogart in the face. Blood spurted out of his nose.

Bogart touched his nose and looked at his bloody hand. “You”re fucking dead.”

Bogart attacked with his bat. Joanie moved in front of Julian. “Bogart, don”t—”

Julian shoved her away seconds before Bogart swung his bat.

What happened next was a blur. First Julian was throwing punches then within a span of a heartbeat, Joanie saw him on the floor fending Bogart”s blows.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh made her cringe. Joanie recognized Julian”s grunt.

The sound pulled her out of her shock.

“Stop! You ugly beast!” she pulled Bogart”s hair, forcing his head to lean backwards.

“Yeoowww!”

Bogart”s hand flew and hit her on the cheek. Joanie saw a million tiny stars swirling around in the midst of darkness. She released her hold on Bogart”s long greasy hair to cover her cheekbone and left eye. An unbridled anger in Julian”s voice as he called her name echoed in her ears followed by a hair-raising growl.

Through one eye, Joanie could see Julian”s fist fly connecting to Bogart”s face and stomach. She watched him elbow Bogart on the rib. Bogart crumpled on the floor.

Good God, Julian looked menacing and not like a veterinarian at all.

“Call my wife a whore again and I”ll have the authorities tear this whole place down and you—I”ll see to it that you rot in jail.” Bogart panted. His nose looked broken and oozing with dark red blood that dripped down his lips and chin. He looked at her with pure hate on his face.

“Wife? I hired your wife to work for me because she needed a job. She”s penniless, you asshole. She said she could cook. Cook my ass. She destroyed my kitchen and nearly set this place on fire. But I—stupid me—gave her a chance and hired her to bus tables. But she broke more plates faster then I could replace them.” Bogart spat bloody saliva on the floor. “The only thing she”s good at is grinding her hips. You claim her as your wife? This fancy man here your husband, Joanie? What a joke.

Get your wife out of here. Joanie, you”re fired.”

“I want my paycheck. It”s the end of the month.”

“You owe me more than what you earned for two weeks.” He winced as he wiped the blood with his sleeve. “And your damn husband broke my nose. I”m going to sue you for this.”

Julian took money out of his wallet and threw it on Bogart. “Have your damn nose x-rayed. Sue me and we”ll see who goes to jail first. Let”s go, Joanie.”

“Julian you”re bleeding.”

“Forget it. Let”s go.” Julian gripped her arm tight, pulling her with him as he walked toward the back door.

“Wait! The money. I have to get it, otherwise Bogart will take it.”

“He should get the money and give it to you.”

“That”s not the way we do it here. When I”m done dancing, I”m supposed to pick it up while the audience is watching. Bogart said that way men would toss more money on stage.”

“Why didn”t you pick the money up?”

“Because I saw you. You distracted me. Let me go back.”

“He can have it.” He tightened his hold on her shoulder, preventing her from turning.

“But Bill tossed me a fifty. I want to give it back to his wife. His family needs it.”

“I”ll give her the damn fifty. Move your feet, Joanie.”

“But—”

“No buts. Don”t make me carry you out of here.”

“You”re a rotten bully, you know that?”

“I know and I am your husband.”

“Until Sam”s birthday.”

“Right. Until then I will exercise my right.”

“What? What right?”