Iron Rods: 1 (Strip Club) (19 page)

She let out a
whoop
and fist pumped into the air.
Elation engulfed her like a toasty fuzzy blanket on a frigid February morning.
“I’m so happy for y’all. I loved working with them. I truly did. Be sure to let
me know when the girls perform so I can watch them.”

“It’s a deal,” he promised and waved his goodbye as he
headed toward the warehouse front doors.

A warm hand fell on Tatum’s shoulder. She glanced back to
see Lyle grinning from ear to ear. His handlebar mustache tilted in the same
direction as his upturned lips.

“Young lady, I reckon hiring you was the best thing I’ve
done since marrying this woman.” He gestured toward Anne standing at his side.
The beautiful woman with silvery-blonde hair blushed, lightly tingeing her flawless
creamy complexion. “I’m so damned happy, I’m ready to dance a jig. Taking my
lovely bride here to the Broken Spoke to do just that. Ain’t gonna stop dancing
until my feet blister or they kick me out of the place.”

Anne laughed and took the old man’s age-spotted hand in
hers. “Then I’m glad I took a nap this afternoon.”

A sense of longing tugged at her heart as she took in the
happily married couple who looked more like love-struck teenagers. She craved
that kind of relationship, solid and everlasting, with Bennett. There was not a
single doubt in her mind about her feelings. She yearned for him so badly her
bones ached from the wanting. Unfortunately, she had no idea if the slick New
Yorker she’d fallen for felt the same way. The messages he sent were mixed and
confusing. Hot as blazes one moment, colder than a witch’s tit the next.

“I talked to Miguel,” Lyle continued. “He’s going to wait
around here until you are ready to leave and then walk you to your car. Don’t
want any more wacko strippers meeting you in the parking lot.” Out of nowhere,
the old man snapped his fingers. “Nearly plumb forgot. I talked to Bennett on
the phone a few minutes ago. Said he’d left you some of those text message
thingies, but you probably haven’t seen them yet. Still don’t understand why
that boy couldn’t wait to go to New York next week. He completely missed
tonight’s shindig. Sometimes he doesn’t make a lick of sense to me.”

A sizzle of excitement sparked through her belly. Bennett
had left her messages. He was thinking about her while he was a thousand miles
away. Surely that was a positive sign of his affection, wasn’t it?

Anne directed a look of sympathy at Tatum. Understanding and
compassion gleamed through her brown eyes. If only Lyle weren’t here. Then
she’d feel free to pick Bennett’s stepmother’s brain and try to figure out what
was going on inside his head. Anne seemed to be one of the few people who
actually had a pulse on the frustrating man.

“Ready to kick up your heels, little lady?” the old man
asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Anne stuck a booted foot out
from beneath her long, billowy skirt. “I got my dancing shoes on.”

“Then let’s be like a deer and get the buck out of here.”
Lyle released his hold of Anne’s hand, wrapped his arm around her slim waist
and led her through the doorway. As they walked down the long hallway the sound
of
Deep in the Heart of Texas
whistled slightly off-key floated along
with them.

When the place had been tidied up and all the strippers and
staff had left the building, Tatum recovered her purse from a locked closet and
checked her texts.

I’m home early. Can you stop by my place when you’re done
tonight? I don’t care if it’s late.

Hell yes, she could. The faster the better. She had so much
to tell him about the competition and the reception from the judges, not to
mention the curiosity about his trip was about to kill her. Maybe now that his
visit to New York had come and gone, he’d fill her in on what his meeting was
about and why he’d been in such a queer mood before he left.

Tatum pulled the keys to her POS truck from her purse and
jogged down the hallway back to the studio. “Miguel,” she called out on a
ragged breath. “You ready to leave?”

Less than fifteen minutes later, she pulled her old truck
into a downtown parking lot and prayed for an available stall, which were
generally nonexistent on a Saturday night. As usual, Sixth Street, already
closed to all vehicle traffic, overflowed with party-seeking pedestrians. The
college kids were out in force.

After parking and waiting the requisite thirty seconds for
the engine to finally die, she stepped out on feet that felt as though they
were walking on clouds. She would see Bennett soon. Once they’d talked, she
would rip off his fancy clothes, push him on his tasteful couch and not get off
him until he screamed her name in ecstasy. Their lovemaking would be the
perfect ending to an already fantastic day.

The spirited din of live music coming from the downtown bars
filled the warm night air as she walked to Bennett’s high-rise condo. All around,
couples sat close and drank at café tables outside lounges, long lines of
diverse people waited to be carded outside popular bars and horses clopped on
side streets pulling carriages lit up with hundreds of tiny white lights. This
was Austin, Texas. This was her home.

When she arrived at his door, he met her still wearing a tie
and a rumpled dress shirt tucked into navy suit pants creased from hours of
sitting. Though clean-shaven, his face bore the tired look of someone who
hadn’t slept in days. His lips pulled into a slight smile as she leapt into his
arms.

“I’ve missed you, Slick. God, how I’ve missed you.” She
leaned her cheek into the curve of his neck and breathed in his familiar scent.
A rush of saliva filled her mouth. She wanted to lick every inch of his
six-foot-four body and discover exactly where he had splashed his spicy
cologne.

“I’ve missed you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

His voice lacked its usual fortitude. Instead, a weariness
infused with sadness marked his tone. He squeezed her tight before pulling her
back and gazing into her face with melancholy eyes.

“Everything okay?” Concern weighed uncomfortably in the pit
of her stomach as though a tumor of lead grew out of control there. “The trip
was good?”

“Yes. I think everything went well.” He smiled faintly.

She didn’t believe him. Clearly something bad had happened.
He looked and sounded absolutely wretched. When he said, “Let’s talk”, and
grabbed her hand to lead her into his living room, the tumor in her belly
gained five pounds.

They sat knee to knee, Bennett on a sleek cream-colored
chair and Tatum on the matching ottoman. Once he settled himself, he rubbed a
hand over his face and up into the waves of his jet-black hair. Whatever
troubled his mind seemed too difficult to share. He took several breaths and
visibly swallowed before he opened his mouth.

Did someone die? Did he hook up with a former girlfriend and
now needed to unload his guilty conscience? Was he sick of Austin and planning
on moving back to New York for good?

“For goodness’ sake, Slick. Tell me what’s going on. My head
is filled with all sorts of horrible thoughts.” Tatum grabbed one of his hands
and held it atop his leg. “Whatever you have to say can’t be all that bad.”

He shook his head and used his free hand to brush the back
of a finger over her cheek. “It’s not bad. I’m hoping it will be good news…for
you.”

For me?

Surprised, she leaned back and frowned. “You went to New
York for me?”

“Yes.” Bennett tightened the fingers entwined with hers. “I
met with Alan Sanders.”

“The producer of
Haute
?” Disbelief rang in her voice
as she slowly spoke each syllable.

He nodded, sending a curl of shiny ebony onto his forehead.
“I found out through a mutual friend that Alan is losing a dancer in the chorus
line. The woman is quitting to take care of her mother who has been diagnosed
with Alzheimer’s. He needs to find a permanent replacement.”

The tumor in her belly gained another ten pounds. Her heart
hammered behind her tightened ribs.

“So what are you telling me?” As she spoke, nervous energy
arced through her right foot and leg. She couldn’t keep them from jiggling.

“I met with Alan to talk about you. He remembers your
audition and your callback. I guess a six-foot-tall blonde dancer from Texas is
someone hard to forget.”

The ability to form sentences failed her. The best she could
muster was a barely intelligible, “Uh huh.”

“He told me to tell you that if you still are interested in
the position on the chorus line, it’s yours.”

Her heart stopped mid beat. “Seriously?” she asked, unable
to breathe.

“Seriously.”

Tatum released her grip from Bennett’s hand and placed both
palms on her face to keep her head from popping off. The news was far too
surreal to be possible.

This had to be a dream. After a lifetime of lessons, practice
and calluses covering her toughened feet, had she actually been offered a job
as a professional dancer? And not just for any dance company, but as a cast
member of
Haute
.

A sudden burst of overwhelming emotion ripped through her.
Her body shook uncontrollably and tears fell like hot rain over her cheeks.
This was all too good to be true.

Fighting for air, she shuddered as she drew in a breath. “I
can’t believe it.”

Bennett fell back into the chair. “Alan wants you to call
him Monday morning with your decision. He needs to hire someone quickly and
then get her trained before his current dancer leaves for Wisconsin.”

“Monday?”

That one word brought reality jolting back with enough force
to knock her off the ottoman. The news Alan Sanders wanted her in his
production had shocked her so badly, she’d completely forgotten about
everything else happening in her life.

“What about my job at Iron Rods?” she wanted to know. “What
about teaching the new strippers their dance routines?”

Her heart plummeted as the lead tumor spread to her bowels.

What about you? What about us?

Bennett loosened his tie and unfastened the top button of
his dress shirt. “Looks like you have some decisions to make.”

She grabbed the sides of the ottoman, letting her fingers
sink into the cushion while a host of jumbled thoughts and emotions whirled
around in her head like a cyclone. The dizzying effect produced waves of
belly-testing nausea. An acrid taste of bile rose in her throat.

Why had he done this? Why had he done this? WHY HAD HE
DONE THIS?

As the storm continued to rage within her, Tatum slowly
raised her gaze to meet his.

“Why?” She’d spoken so quietly she almost hadn’t heard her
own voice.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he lifted himself from
the chair and paced back and forth in front of his marble fireplace, hands deep
in his pockets.

“Because I’ve fallen in love with you,” he finally said.

Her arms stiffened, bracing her as she sat and took in his
response. She’d anticipated him saying that he’d helped get her the job because
he knew it was her dream or because he wanted to see Iron Rods fail without her
there to manage it.

His admission of love shredded her heart.

She’d done her best to avoid this situation. She knew how
gut-wrenching having to choose between her love of performing and love for a
man would be. But here she was, smack dab in the middle of a dilemma she’d
unwittingly fallen into.

Half of her wanted to jump up, kiss him and profess her love
for him as well with promises of never leaving his side. The other half
couldn’t wait to tell her parents and friends that she finally made it to the
big time. She’d landed a job with a Tony-nominated production in New York.

How could she have gotten herself into such a horrible mess?

Arms and legs shaking, she stood and debated her next move.
But the tug-of-war waging deep within her refused to let her think straight.
She couldn’t think at all.

I can’t do this right now. I just can’t.

Before she knew what she was doing, she walked to the front
door and opened it wide.

“I’ve fallen for you too,” she said as she closed the door
behind her.

The sound of insistent door pounding woke Bennett from a
restless night of sleep. Another in the long line of restless nights he’d had
since making the excruciatingly difficult decision to contact Alan and talk to
him about Tatum’s chances for getting a part in
Haute
.

He glanced at the clock on his bedside table. The digital
display showed 10 a.m. Only three people would threaten to break down his front
door on a Sunday morning. His grandfather was in New York and Tatum most likely
wasn’t talking to him, which left his ill-tempered father, the last person he
wanted to see. Unfortunately, Lyle was the type of man who actually would kick
in the door to get to what he wanted.

Bennett’s heart panged at the thought of the last time he’d
personally made toothpicks out of a wood door. Tatum had been in his arms then,
smelling of honey, and he’d taken the opportunity to taste her sweet juices
before having sex with her for the first time. He’d remember that day until he
drew his last breath.

If he had listened to his brain rather than the other parts
of his body, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He wouldn’t be in love with a woman
who would eventually leave him for more important things, just as everyone but
Anne had.

The battering on the front door grew louder and more
forceful. Unintelligible twangy shouts sounded over the banging commotion. With
a resigned groan, Bennett tossed back the covers, reached for his pants and slipped
them on. The marble tiles on the floor chilled his feet as he padded to the
front door, which vibrated from the constant blasts of his father’s heavy hand.

“Jesus, Lyle. I’m coming,” Bennett shouted back. “Enough
with the pounding already. You’re going to wake the entire building.”

A muffled, “I don’t give a flying squirrel who hears me.
Open this damned door before I stick my boot through it,” sounded back.

Bennett unlocked the two deadbolts and the knob lock. When
he pulled open the door, he battled the urge to slam it closed.

Lyle, face red as a tomato and mustache sticking out like
two gray points, stood in the hallway with his fists on his hips. Fire licked
the ice of his blue eyes. The only thing missing from his display of absolute,
thunderous anger was the blaring train whistle from a Looney Tunes cartoon.

“What in the blue blazes have you done?” Lyle bellowed,
pushing his way past Bennett and into the condo.

“Come on in,” Bennett replied blandly, closing the door. “I
would offer you coffee, but I’ve been too busy trying to sleep to have made any
yet.”

His father stomped into the kitchen leaving black marks each
time his boot heels slammed on the white marble floor. He’d evidently left the
ranch in a hurry. His shoulder-length hair looked slicked back with sweat. And
rather than his usual dark blue jeans or khaki cargo shorts, he sported
skintight orange bike shorts and a rainbow tie-dye T-shirt in a dizzying spiral
pattern.

“I don’t want no coffee, boy.” The old man spun around. “I
want to know what you said to Tatum. She called a few minutes ago to say she
may be leaving to work on a chorus line in New York.”

Bennett’s gut dropped as though he’d been thrown out of an
airplane without a parachute. He reached into his pocket, locating the Susan B.
Anthony coin. Unfortunately, the small piece of metal couldn’t steady his
jumbled nerves.

“So she’s leaving?” Bennett asked flatly.

“No. Not yet. She said she’s got to make a decision by
tomorrow.” Lyle narrowed his eyes, creating a deep crease between his unruly
eyebrows. “What did you do?”

Purposely keeping his features neutral, Bennett ignored the
question and countered with one of his own. “What makes you think I did
anything? She’s been auditioning for years. Maybe her number finally turned
up.”

“Because,” Lyle said, jabbing the end of a finger on the
enameled lava kitchen countertop as he made his point. “I know you will stop at
nothing to try to keep Iron Rods from reopening.”

Bennett pulled the coin from his pocket. After giving the
Susan B. one final squeeze, he flicked it to Lyle. “Here. I never want to see
it again.”

“What the hell is this?”

“Something you gave me a long time ago.” Bennett nodded to
Lyle’s hand. “That fucking coin represents the only day you believed in me. The
only day I was deemed worthy of your time or your praise.”

Lyle glanced at the coin, his face a tableau of confusion.

“I was seven, Lyle, when I started learning magic from some
of the guys in the back of Iron Rods to try to impress you. The one day I
caught your attention long enough to show you one of my tricks, you tossed this
to me. Then you turned away, saying you had to get back to taking care of the
club.”

Iron Rods, the fucking bane of his entire existence. That
trashy strip club had caused nothing but strife and heartache in his life,
including his meeting and falling for Tatum. If he had a stick of dynamite in
his possession, he’d march over to the derelict building this minute and blow
the whole damn thing sky high.

Years worth of hurt and disillusionment that had never
stopped roiling around in his mind, his heart and his belly suddenly collided
with the heartache of Tatum’s decision to leave, creating a firestorm of
emotion and rage.

To hell with his father. To hell with trying to earn the
crazy old man’s love and acceptance. To hell with all of it.

Bennett’s chest swelled as he drew in air and prepared to
unleash the fury that had built piece by piece over his lifetime.

“That club and Truitt Holdings are the only things you’ve
ever cared about, aren’t they, you old son of a bitch?” Bennett ground out,
hands shaking. “Not me, not my mother, not even Anne. Do you know the reason
you have that big dog you hate so much is because you aren’t home enough to
give Anne the attention she needs? That’s right. She’s lonely. The woman you
say you love so much is lonely. But do you have an inkling how she feels? Hell
no.” Each word exploded from his mouth as though being fired by an assault
rifle aimed straight toward his father’s selfish, uncaring heart. “Your work
and your hobbies are all that you have time for. They’re all you’ve ever had
time for. You’re pretty damned lucky Anne decided to only get a huge pet
instead of leaving your ass like my mother did.”

Lyle’s face screwed up into a mask of hellish anger. But
Bennett was on a roll. No way would he stop until he’d let everything loose.

“It’s because of you that my mother killed herself. She’d
hoped that you would eventually care enough about her to come to New York and
get her—to get us. Instead, you did nothing but throw yourself into that strip
club. She hadn’t even given up on you after Grandfather forced her to get a
divorce. She held on until she’d found out you’d married someone else. Right
after, she put me in that horrible boarding school and took all those pills. It’s
all your fault, but you’re too self-absorbed and uninterested in anything but
yourself and that fucking club to care.”

His last remark apparently hit home. All the color in Lyle’s
face drained. The old man fumbled for a barstool beside the kitchen counter and
sat down.

Though their shouting still resonated in Bennett’s ears, the
kitchen suddenly became quiet. Several long moments passed as they both let
Bennett’s words sink in.

“I know I’ve made mistakes.” Lyle’s voice quavered when he
finally spoke, breaking the silence. “I’m trying to make amends. To make things
better.”

“Better?” Bennett blasted, incredulous. He charged around
the counter to confront his father face to face. Man to man. “Aside from
letting Anne get that dog, tell me one thing you’ve recently done to try to
make things better. Just one.”

Without hesitating, Lyle provided his answer.

“I hired you and brought you back to Texas.” The old man
raised watery eyes to Bennett. “I love you, son. I always have. You’re my boy.
My blood. I want to make things right between us.”

The declaration struck like a thunderbolt. Bennett’s chest
tightened without mercy, painfully squeezing the air out of his lungs.

In all his thirty years, he’d never heard his father say he
loved him. Not once. Not even at his mother’s funeral had the old man professed
his feelings for his only son.

“I hoped by having you here in Austin with me, working by my
side, we could get things mended,” Lyle continued. “But I suppose I’m an old
man set in my ways, and I let too much water pass beneath the bridge. I’m
sorry, son. I’m truly sorry. I hope one day you’ll find a way to forgive me.”

Unable to make sense of the onslaught of feelings jumbled
inside him, Bennett turned and looked out the glass wall separating him from
the cloudless sky. Outside the world looked peaceful and calm, a very different
place from the chaos in his small world. The Colorado River flowed tranquilly
through downtown while several paddleboarders skimmed its placid surface. A
handful of joggers and walkers followed a trail along the riverbank. The scene
before him was serenity at its best. Why couldn’t his life be more like that?

“I thought I was showing my love for y’all by working hard
and making enough money to buy y’all the things I never had. And as for my hobbies,
well, I guess I should have done more to include y’all,” Lyle said.

“All I wanted was your time and your approval. That’s it.”
Bennett refused to turn around and look at the old man. Instead, he stood so
close to the window his hot breath fogged the spotless glass.

“For what it’s worth, you have my approval. I’m damned proud
of you. You grew up to be a man any father would be proud of. As for my time, I
swear I’ll do better with that, starting today. I want to be a better husband
to Anne and a better father to both you and Camma. I’ll do whatever I need to
do to get it right.”

Bennett’s throat constricted. “That’s a lot of talk, Lyle.
Words are easy. Action takes effort.”

“Don’t I know it.”

The scraping noise of a barstool moving sounded. The heels of
Lyle’s boots clopped on the marble tile. Soon the old man’s papery hand rested
on Bennett’s biceps. The gentle gesture was like a lighthouse shining a beacon
into the tempest raging in Bennett’s soul.

Lyle turned Bennett around. Jaw and cheeks slack and eyes
tilted downward, the old man had never looked so pained. “I can’t do this on my
own, son. If we want things between us to improve, I’m going to need your help
too.”

There had been a time in which he hoped to hurt his father.
Repay the insensitive old coot for his many years of suffering. But seeing Lyle
so utterly shattered wasn’t making him feel better. Not one bit. Just the
opposite. And although the wild mishmash of emotions that had burdened him
since childhood still churned, the intensity eased. Just unloading on his
father and ridding himself of his pent-up bitterness had soothed some of his
raw feelings.

Bennett nodded.

“Okay,” Lyle said, sounding weak and contrite. “We can start
with Iron Rods. I’ll talk to Dan today about stopping the renovations. We’ll
tear the old building down and build something new. Just promise me that
whatever we put in its place looks as though it’s been there since Austin was a
cattle town.”

Getting the green light to demolish the building and
business he’d come to hate with a passion should have made Bennett want to leap
for joy. At least it should have provided some kind of spiteful satisfaction.
It did neither. Instead, he felt hollow inside. An empty cup waiting to be
filled by the fruition of his father’s promises.

He wanted a strong relationship with his father. To create
the types of family ties he never had growing up. Striking back at his father
by eliminating Iron Rods wouldn’t help with those endeavors. As much as he
despised the seedy strip club, even he understood that. Deep down inside, he
always had.

“No,” Bennett interjected. “It took a while, but since I
moved back I’ve come to some surprising conclusions about this town. You were
right about keeping Austin’s integrity. Iron Rods has been around forever. It’s
a landmark. A part of the city like the bats.” The memory of the night he’d
shared with Tatum on South Congress flashed in his mind. That night he’d seen
Austin as he had so long ago. The city he still loved deep down. “Austin
wouldn’t be the same without it.”

The old man stepped back. With teary eyes, he searched
Bennett as though seeing him, really seeing him, for the first time. “Well,
son-bitch. I can’t believe my ears.”

Bennett hardly believed his ears either. Maybe he was still
asleep. Maybe he truly had drunk too much of the crazy water.

“Seems we might be on to something pretty good here, son,”
Lyle said, placing the Susan B in Bennett’s palm and squeezing his hand shut.
“Now if we can get Tatum to stay put, we’ll be in high cotton.”

Grabbing hold of his faithful talisman, Bennett nodded as a
loud sigh full of regret blew from his mouth.

“Done screwed the pooch, have you, boy?” the old man asked.

“I think so.”

Who was he kidding? Of course he’d screwed things up. He’d
be lucky if Tatum even talked to him again. Sure, she’d told him that she’d
fallen for him, but he’d put her in a terrible position. Played with her
emotions. What kind of man did something like that?

A royal fuckup like me, that’s who.

“Do you love her?”

If there was one thing Bennett knew for certain, it was that
he loved her. He loved the way she looked, her smell, her feistiness. He loved
everything about the tall Texan, especially the way she showed she cared for
him. She was someone he could count on. Someone he could trust. Someone whose
company always brightened his day. In just the short time he’d been without her
in New York, he’d been completely miserable for missing her so badly.