Page 35 of The Dance
“No.” I chortled. “Mostly hip hop, but some ballet.”
“Oh.” He smiled. “That kinda explains the fake name on your profile.”
“It does?” I knew Blake called me Toots, and I’d heard Tootsie before, but I wasn’t sure of the connection.
“Because you’re a dancer. Tootsies are feet, right?”
“Oh, I guess.”
“You guess?” We exited the car as the elevator doors opened. “Did you do it because the definition means prostitute, and you are one?”
I stopped walking. “Excuse me?”
He exhaled a breath. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. I’m just certain the definition for Tootsie also refers to a promiscuous woman.”
“I …” I couldn’t find the words. I thought Tootsie was cute to use because Blake called me Toots, and I needed a name for my profile. It was easier than putting Cindy and having to explain later that my name was really Stacey.
Chuck continued as he opened the door to his room. “But given your bewilderment, I’m guessing it’s the feet reason.”
“I … Yeah.” I was changing my name on my profile as soon as I left dinner. Hell, maybe in the bathroom during it.
“Sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“No, it’s okay. Honest mistake.” I stepped into his room, and the door closed. The deadbolt sounded, and I turned back around.
“But this would have gone better if you were a whore.”
11
Blake
“Hey, Blake,”a woman purred.
I looked over from where I’d been pouring vodka into four shot glasses, my gaze landing on a face I’d only seen once the previous Saturday. “How are you?”
What was her name again?
The brunette grinned. “Better now that you’re working.”
I worked most Saturday nights because my focus was on my club rather than partying. Brandon visited for Thanksgiving, and I broke down, putting my pride aside, and picked his brain about how he and Jason had become successful with Club 24. Even though I was saving a little money every month, I was still nowhere near ready to open my nightclub.
“I’ve got a question for you,”I said as Brandon and I went head-to-head in our Thanksgiving family Texas Hold’em tournament. Mom and Dad had gone to bed a half-hour before because, for once, I was keeping up with Brandon and not letting him run the fucking table and it was well after midnight.
“What’s that?”
I threw in a bet of five bucks. “How’d you get the money to open your Austin location?” Austin was their first Club 24 gym before they opened one in Houston, then Denver. The San Francisco location was behind schedule because when they moved to California, something happened at the first location where they had wanted to open a gym, so they had to find another place. They were hoping to open in June.
“Don’t you know?” He called my bet, throwing in his chips, then flipped the river card over.
I furrowed my brow. “No. I was twenty-one, and you weren’t on my mind that year.” Drinking legally and partying was. I’d also wanted to move to Vegas, but that clearly didn’t happen.
“I used the money from my settlement, and Jason got an inheritance.”
Well, fuck. I had no plans to have my back broken by a crazy rival, nor did I have an inheritance coming my way that I knew of.
“Oh.” I threw in another five bucks for my bet.
Brandon looked at his cards. “Oh?”
