I put the ticket into an envelope with the name of the guy who details Tommy’s cars.
I hand the envelope to Billy. “I have someone picking up the car in an hour. Should be a wild night. Figured it’d be better to have a car to take us home.”
Sander’s car pulls up behind mine.
I turn toward the car and tell Billy, “I brought some friends with me.”
“Nice ride,” he says.
“Hey, Billy,” I whisper. “Do you know Mr. Sharpe?”
Billy rolls his eyes. “Silver Porsche. Douche.”
“Is he here tonight?”
“No, but it’s Thursday. He’ll be here.”
“Could you do me a teeny little favor?” I hand him a folded hundred-dollar bill. “When he arrives, will you discreetly let this guy know immediately?” I gesture to Cooper. “He’ll be in the VIP section.”
Billy looks down at his hand and smiles. “Absolutely.”
I move my skimpily clad body just a little closer to him. “And, Billy, under no circumstances am I to leave with Mr. Sharpe.”
“He bad news?”
“For me, yes.”
I get the boys happily situated in the VIP section and do a shot with them while Cooper uses his all-access pass to check out the exits. I look down at the dance floor, knowing the door Vincent tried to drag me out of is almost directly underneath me.
When he gets back, Cooper says, “You sure he’ll let me know when he arrives?”
“Yeah, I tipped him a hundred dollars.”
Cooper pulls me toward the balcony overlooking the dance floor, wraps his arms around my waist, and appears to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.
“I want you dancing there.” He uses a mini laser pointer to indicate the spot.
I toss my head back and giggle, playing my role.
“There’s an exit here.” The red light hits a black spot on the wall. “And here.”
“Got it.”
My bottom lips pops out in a pout, like Cooper just told me something I didn’t want to hear.
Sander says to him, “Aw man, you’re in trouble. No one can resist the pout.”
“Sander, stop giving away my tricks.” I smile at him. “So, the party pooper here has to take a business call. Who wants to go dance?”
Ten minutes later, Cooper joins me on the dance floor, pulling me tightly into his body.
I grind on him, making sure my ear is close to his mouth.
“Vincent’s here. He just left the VIP section and moved closer to the dance floor. As we walk back to the bar, he’ll be on your right. I’ll be walking on your left. No matter what, I want you keep looking at me. If you make eye contact with him it will ruin your plan.”
“Got it.”
I stop grinding on Cooper, close my eyes, and just cling to him for a minute.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asks.
I open my eyes, nod at him, and Party-Girl-Keatyn yells to Sander, “I think we need another drink!”
The small pack of us makes our way back to the VIP section.
Cooper keeps his arm tightly wrapped around me.
Party-Girl-Keatyn gabs loudly the entire way. “So I can’t decide what I’m in the mood for. Should we have hypnotic, lemon drop shots, or should we should just keep going with the Don Julio?”
Just as I finish my sentence, I feel Cooper’s grip on my waist tighten and I know we’re about to walk by Vincent. I keep my eyes locked on Cooper’s and stay in my role.
“How about you, sexy?” I say loudly to Cooper. “What are you in the mood for?”
Cooper mumbles something and I laugh loudly. “I think we’d get arrested for that, baby.”
“Keatyn, darling, let’s do Fireball shots,” Danny yells back at me.
“Hot, just like us.” Sander and I yell at the same time.
Which makes me forget about Vincent for a second and actually laugh for real.
While Sander is ordering shots, Cooper keeps watch behind me. “It’s time to go. He’s headed this way.”
I pat Sander on the back. “I have a surprise for you boys. Keep an eye out for me.”
“Move now,” Cooper says, quickly leading me to one of the pass-only doors.
He flashes our pass to the guard, who lets us through.
“I’m still worried about getting you down.”
“I know.” I lead him to the DJ booth and get Troy’s attention.
“Damn, girl,” Troy says, giving me a hug. “I’ve missed you. Not the whiner boyfriend, but I’ve missed you.”
“Brooklyn’s not my boyfriend anymore.”
“If you weren’t our friend, I would have kicked his ass for all the bitching he did. You had fun though, didn’t you?”
“I had a blast being on tour.”
“Damian says you’re going to be in our video.”
“If you guys still want me, yeah.”
He looks at me again. “We do. So, keep going down the hall. Second door on the left is where all the girls are. They’ll tell you what to do.”
“Why don’t you walk down there, Cooper, and check it out. I’ll be right there.”
As soon as he’s out of earshot, I say to Troy, “Were you able to get it?”
“Are you sure about all this? Damian gave me an earful before I left. I assume you want this guy to see you but not get close?”
“Exactly.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. Patrons aren’t allowed to touch the cages.”
“Still.”
Troy sighs. “Fine. It’s duct taped to the floor. I put a little spot of glow-in-the-dark paint on both ends of the tape. The safety’s on but, Keats, the last thing we need is a shoot-out in a packed club.”
“I won't use it unless I absolutely have to.”
He musses my hair. “You looked great dancing out there. Wherever you've been has been good for you.”
“Thanks. You look like a rock star.”
“It's pretty exciting, huh? “You and Me” has been getting a ton of airtime. The label thinks we’ll hit the Billboard chart this week.”
“Seriously? Damian didn't tell me that.”
“He has some new tail he's after. But I'm not complaining. He's written some seriously amazing shit this week.”
“He's in love.”
“Apparently. Okay, so get down there. You only have a few minutes.”
In the dressing room with the paid dancers, I get a quick makeover by Marla, the woman in charge. She cakes on more makeup and glues on the huge glow-in-the-dark eyelashes the dancers are known for.
Then she adds glow-in-the-dark paint to strategic locations on my body. Stripes fanning out from my eyes. Four stripes around the clover tattoo on my wrist. A swirly stripe across my left shoulder blade. Filling in numerous diamond shapes in my fishnets.
She stands back and looks at me with an artist’s eye, trying to decide where else to put the paint, when she spots my tattoo.
“Oh, I like this,” she says, outlining it. “What’s it mean?”
“Chaos.”
“Love that. We should all have those. I’ve always said that if they ever give this place a name, it should be called Utter Chaos.”
After a few words of advice, I’m being locked in a cage and swung out over the now jam-packed dance floor.
I look through the neon sunglasses I’m supposed to wear to start the dance and quickly see Vincent standing in his former spot, his calculating eyes searching the dance floor.
I hang onto the bars of the swinging cage until I’m lowered onto a six-foot-high platform just to Vincent’s left.
When all the cages are on the platforms, the music screeches to a halt and a new song plays, causing the Plexiglass bases of each cage to light up, flashing with the beat.
Our cue to start dancing.
The more we dance, the more people cluster around the cages.