Past Regrets: Love and Friendship, Book 2 (7 page)

Julia nodded, losing some of her starchiness. “If anyone asks I’ll tell them you’re a band looking for a break.”

“Julia, are you ready?” Maggie shouted.

“Are you and Caleb coming to the club with us?” Julia asked, gliding around him in a wide circle. “We’re checking out the opposition.”

“Thanks.” Satisfaction filled his chest, and despite her strictures about taking things slowly, he was quietly pleased. She reminded him of the dog his family had adopted from the Humane Society when he was a kid. Despite her feisty attitude, she acted as if he might kick her at the first opportunity. Troublesome wench. That dog had become his best buddy, and he intended to use the same calm persistence with his wife.

The hour was still relatively early—in club terms—yet already a line had formed outside. The seven of them joined the end of the queue, keeping the conversation away from
The Last Frontier
. A burly bouncer, dressed in a black suit, stood at the head of the line, his massive arms crossed over his chest. His bring-it-on size shouted a warning for everyone to behave, but none of the waiting people were interested in issuing a challenge.

“Have you been here before?” Julia asked the couple standing in front of them. She wanted to get a feel for the clientele and learn what attracted them to this new club. Anything to get her mind off Ryan. God, she’d let him kiss her, which ranked right up there with stupid. Sly, tricky man. His gentleness had cut her mental arguments off at the knees and fogged her stupid brain.

“Good music. Great atmosphere,” a woman said. “There are both male and female performers so the place doesn’t have a sleazy club vibe. I feel comfortable here with my girlfriends.”

“That’s what I heard.” Julia surveyed the woman and those in front of them. The dress-code seemed on the casual side for the men, but most of the women were dolled up in skimpy dresses or clinging skirts and flimsy tops. She was glad they’d all taken the chance to smarten up.

“I haven’t been here before,” Ryan said. “Is the music live or do they have a DJ?”

“DJ,” the woman said. “He’s good.”

Music swirled out when the door opened. Julia didn’t know the song, but it had a strong beat, something people could dance to if they had the inclination. The bouncer let several people inside, including the woman she’d questioned.

“That’s all,” the bouncer said, stopping Julia.

“Isn’t it unusual to restrict numbers this early in the night?” she asked.

“Not my fault,” the bouncer said in a surprisingly high voice, immediately on the defensive.

“Of course it isn’t,” she said soothingly, leaning toward him slightly to highlight her breasts. “What are the owners like? I was thinking of applying for a job.”

“Dancer?”

“Yes,” Julia said, blinking her eye lashes in his direction. “I wanted to check out the place first. I’ve been burned before.”

Maggie shifted a fraction beside her. Julia caught a masculine growl of disapproval, and she was sure Connor wasn’t the culprit.

“I don’t think they’re hiring at present,” the bouncer said, noticeably thawing. “You should check at the bar.”

“Thanks. I will.”

A group of six men walked out the door, their dark suits indicating they’d hit the place after a day of work. Interesting. Most clubs didn’t attract this type of clientele. What were they doing that was so different?

“How many are in your group?” the bouncer asked.

“Seven,” Julia said.

“Close enough. You can go in now. Good luck with the job.”

“Thanks.” Julia flashed a smile and sashayed into the club, putting an extra wiggle in her hips. It was the least she could do in exchange for the information.

“Hey,” Ryan’s arm curved around her waist. “I hope your sexy flounce is for me.”

Her steps became jerky, and he chuckled. She swallowed, knocked off her usual even stride. His arm felt natural around her, damn it. She’d softened naturally, leaning into his warmth. And that was stupid, but right now she was so confused and out of kilter she had difficulty thinking straight.

“Relax.”

“Easy for you to say,” she said. “You don’t have four curious friends trying to grill you for answers. Or a husband who thinks he can walk right back into your life when it suits him.”

Ryan’s arm tightened as he guided her into the intimacy of the dimly lit club. “This isn’t easy for me either.”

The tense note in his voice had her searching his face. All this time she’d thought of him as the bad guy, but what if he spoke the truth? Maybe she should own some of the problems with their marriage. She’d seen online pictures almost as soon as the band arrived in Europe, and a part of her had died when they kept appearing. Then the baby… The guilt had overwhelmed her, withering her emotions, plunging her into darkness.

“Meet me for breakfast,” she said.

“Where? When?”

“I thought I’d grab something at the cafe down the road from the club. They always used to do a decent breakfast. I want to get an early start.”

“Good idea,” Maggie said, overhearing them.

“Julia and I are having a private breakfast,” Ryan said.

Maggie’s lips twitched. “You can share a table together.”

Julia got it, and a bloom of emotion warmed her through. In their unsubtle way her friends were letting Ryan know they had her back. “Fine,” she said, squeezing Ryan’s hand to still his protest. “Maggie is right. I have a lot to do, and I can’t afford distraction.”

“Fine.” He threw her reply back at her. “We’ll share a table at breakfast, but I get a goodnight kiss.”

“That sounds fair,” Maggie said, puckering up in Ryan’s direction.

“Only if you want a spanking,” Connor said sternly.

“Yes, please.” Maggie smirked at her husband, one eye closing in a sexy wink.

Susan clapped her hands over her ears. “La, la, la, la.”

Julia laughed at Ryan’s confusion. “I’ll explain later.”

“There’s a booth,” Caleb said. “We should be able to squeeze in there.”

“Quick,” Christina said. “Let’s grab it before the people behind us get the same idea.” She took off, gliding between the chairs and tables with real speed.

Ryan’s hand slipped from around Julia’s waist, and she felt the loss straight away. Damn it. She couldn’t act this way. She wasn’t usually a pushover, yet with Ryan...
Focus, girl. This is a business jaunt.

“I don’t understand why they’re restricting admission when there are loads of empty tables,” Susan said.

“They’re playing head games,” Caleb said. “If prospective customers see a line outside a club, they think exclusivity. The owners are playing the snob factor and it’s working for them.”

They crowded into the booth. Julia found herself squeezed against Ryan.

“Relax,” he whispered, slipping his arm around her shoulders. “I only bite in private.”

It was privacy that worried her. He’d burst into her life again today, and already she was toast. Well done, burned to a crisp, toast, her emotions and anger warring with her need to run her hands over his shoulder and tattoo to make sure he was real.

Susan pulled out a notebook and pen. “Observations? Points to remember and discuss later?”

“The staff wears a uniform,” Christina said. “It’s a little blatant for my taste. I think uniforms are a good idea, but they need to aim for sexy and stylish rather than tarty.”

“Music is good,” Caleb contributed. “Lighting is okay, but not very original.”

“That might change once an exotic dancer comes on stage,” Maggie said.

“Service is slow,” Connor said. “I’ll go to the bar. What does everyone want to drink?”

“Wine,” Julia said.

“Let’s get a bottle of Sav Blanc,” Maggie suggested.

The music changed and a dramatic drum roll burst through the speakers. A spotlight highlighted a short, slim man dressed in an elegant navy suit. “Let me present, fresh from the Las Vegas club circuit, Garnet!”

The spot light faded, blacking out the man’s presence. The music changed to subtle and flirty. Tension gripped Julia, herds of butterflies dive-bombing her stomach, trying to work their way out. What if she couldn’t do this? What if she was wasting her efforts on an old dame who was way past her prime?

A red spotlight appeared center stage, highlighting a woman dressed in a dazzling black gown. The woman started to sing, dancing and moving in an enticing manner. A cock of her hips. A pout of plump red lips. She was good with an excellent voice, but Julia thought she could hold her own in a strip off. The singing, not so much, but in the dancing and stripping Julia thought she had an edge.

“You’re better,” Ryan murmured.

“Are you sure? I can’t carry a tune.”

“That doesn’t matter. Lip syncing will work as long as it’s done properly. Besides, you don’t want to copy them. You need to work out your own business plan and stick to it.”

He was right, she thought, her panic receding. She needed to work on the plans she and her friends had discussed, the ideas she’d had as a teenager and her mother had rejected. This was her chance to put her stamp on the club. First up, she’d rename the club
Maxwell’s
in honor of her great-grandparents. A strip club might have been shameful during Victorian times, but social mores changed. If she marketed the place as classy, she’d attract the right customers.

“We need a motto or a tag line for the club,” Julia said.

“I thought
The Last Frontier
said it all,” Susan said drily.

“I’m talking about
Maxwell’s
,” Julia said. “A different vintage all together.”

“Nice,” Maggie said. “Stylish.”

“Perfect,” Ryan said.

“What about Hollywood glamour as a theme?” Christina asked, leaning across the table to be heard. “Maybe even a hint of Art Deco.”

“What sort of theme does this place have?” Connor asked.

“It’s cozy and intimate, but the furnishings are bland.” Christina dissected the club’s interior with an artist’s eye. “They’ve played it safe. You need to deliver an experience for your customers. Something they’ll talk about for weeks after the event—in a good way. Get the word-of-mouth thing going.”

Excitement flared inside Julia. Her friends were right. Myriad clubs had opened and closed on K’ Road over the years. Her mother’s club had weathered the competition and remained an institution. Now it was time to reinvent and carve out a new niche.

“You’re excited by the challenge,” Ryan murmured.

Yes. Yes, she was. “I can do this.”

“I never had any doubts. Look at your friends. They don’t have an ounce of uncertainty either. We’re on your team, Julia.”

Julia coughed delicately in an attempt to shift the growing lump lodged in her windpipe. He might be right when it came to the club, but he’d have to go back on the road with the band. They’d be separated because the club would keep her tethered to Auckland.

“Don’t,” he said quietly. “I can hear you thinking. This marriage is going to work. I won’t see it any other way.”

“Theory is fine. It’s the practical things that’ll make a relationship between us difficult.” She winced, emotion a tight fist interfering with her heartbeat. “What about children?”
Oh, god. What was she doing?

His brows drew together, gentle fingers tipping up her chin, forcing her to meet his direct gaze. “You want children?”

A familiar pain gripped her, the loss of her baby tormenting her like an infected tooth. She forced out a light laugh, and thought she managed quite well. No one would guess her feelings, the despondency still hiding bone deep in her soul. No, she’d never wanted children—not until she’d discovered she was pregnant.

His expression changed, making her realize she’d hesitated too long. He’d deciphered her silence as negative. She hurried into speech. “We never discussed children.”

“No.” His eyes narrowed on her in silent regard, but luckily he didn’t ask questions or poke at the barely scabbed wound. “We didn’t discuss a lot of things. I’m looking forward to learning more about you and making up the deficit.”

“Besides, children wouldn’t work with you on tour.” She fell silent, aware she was laboring the topic, yet unable to stop herself.

His stare forced the creep of heat up her neck.
Yeah, stupid!
She should have kept her big mouth firmly shut. “What do you think of the club? What are they doing that Mum isn’t at
The Last Frontier
?”

“The exclusive vibe seems to work for them. The service is adequate, but not perfect. The ambiance is okay—nothing special or memorable, but the presenter is a nice touch. I don’t think their dancer is as good as you, but everyone seems to appreciate her act.” He gestured toward a table of men, most in their early twenties.

His summation of facts, the same observations she’d already assimilated in her mind let some of her panic retreat.

“How long did you work for your mother at the club?”

Her stress levels took off again, soaring to breath-stealing heights. The minute someone learned of her past, they treated her differently. Mention the words exotic dancer and most minds took the straight leap to sex and prostitution. While she wasn’t ashamed of stripping, she didn’t broadcast it either.