Page 44 of Phoenix

“It’s good to see you, Andre.”

Andre’s eyes settle on me. “Who is this pretty one?”

“Andre, this is my friend, Nora. Nora, this is Andre. He worked on the force with me in Savannah until a few years ago. Now he’s head of security for Erotique.”

“Hi, Andre. It’s nice to meet you. How exactly does one go from cop to security here?” I ask in complete curiosity.

“On the job injury and my girlfriend’s passion project. This is her place. I’m just supporting cast,” he says.

I smile, but my heart hurts knowing he was hurt in the line of duty, just like Case could be. Just like my father was.

“Thanks for getting us in tonight, man,” Case says. “We had some free time, so I wanted to let Nora see a show.”

“Starts in about ten. Plenty of time to get a drink and get settled.” Andre pushes open the large, frosted glass door for us and we step inside, immediately transformed into another world.

It’s dark, but warm lights cast over the floor, guiding us down a hallway toward a set of dark wooden doors.

The walls are lined with blood red cloth and dotted with fiberoptic lights, making it seem like a red sky covered with stars.

Case squeezes my hand then releases it to push the door open.

It’s a small, intimate club with a stage to the right. A plum-colored velvet curtain is hiding whoever is on the stage, and it seems everyone is scurrying toward their seats at small tables and booths.

“What is this place?” I ask, as we approach the bar.

“You’ll see. What will you be drinking tonight?” he replies, placing his hand on the small of my back.

“Vodka soda with lime, please. Just the one. I’ll have water after that.” I want to be completely sober tonight.

He looks to the bartender. “I’ll have a glass of water as well.”

“You aren’t having a drink?” I cock my brow.

“Nah, keeping my wits about me tonight. I may never get you out on a date again. I want to remember it.” He flashes that panty-dropping smirk.

I lean in closer so he can hear me. “You’re such a flirt. It’s not fair sometimes.”

“How’s it not fair?” He slides his credit card to the bartender then we receive our drinks.

“You look like you do, with all your hot cop glory, then you turn on the charm and women are done for.” I sip my drink slowly.

“Are you done for?”

“That’s up for debate.”

The lights begin to dim and he takes my hand. “Let’s go sit.”

We weave through the tables until we reach an empty one just in front of the stage. He must have called in a favor with Andre.

The lights lower until it’s pitch-black, save for the candles on the table, and I feel his hand creep onto my thigh.

The curtain raises as a classic, twenties crooning classic bursts from the speakers and a very scantily clad woman with auburn hair takes the stage, singing her heart out.

A burlesque show.

Case freaking Carmichael brought me to a burlesque show. I’ve always wanted to see one, but never got around to it.

It’s so impressive, watching these women dance in perfectly choreographed numbers wearing next to nothing and sky-high heels.

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