Stars (Penmore #1) (5 page)

“I think I might actually know of a place,” she says, smiling at me and reaching for her faux fur handbag.

I think I would have been relieved by her words had it not been for her smile.

I swear that smile, although friendly, also looked a little calculating.

*****

The club was a short drive from campus, and after meeting the owner/manager for fifteen seconds, I was already trying on their tight uniform in the back storeroom. A uniform that included a minuscule tank top, tight black leather pants and knee-high black suede boots. The outfit was kickass, if not a little risqué. Definitely not something someone like me, who just decided to embrace her banality, should wear in public.

I was
freaking
out.

“Lucky’s is awesome, and Nate works behind the bar. I know he’ll take care of you,” Keeley pitched when she first dragged me through the steel doors. And while her words were meant to reassure, I was too busy taking in my surroundings to hear anything she was saying. Before I had even seen the uniform, the place scared the shit out of me. Booths behind velvet ropes lined the back of the sprawling room. The dark ambience created by black-painted walls was only slightly broken up by small lights, which hung from the ceiling in silver birdcages. The entire place looked like somewhere I imagined Dracula would love to spend his time if he was at college. There were two bars, one directly in the middle alongside the dance floor and one right near the entryway, both covered in black reflective metals.

For a girl who usually spends her evenings doing extra-credit homework, working at a moody club wasn’t ever in the plans. I stepped out of the storeroom and
tried
to walk with confidence back to the bar, where the manager and Keeley were waiting for me beside the dance floor. The tight black tank top, which exposed half my chest and the leather pants riding up and sculpting my butt cheeks were making walking with poise a little challenging. I was focused on ensuring I didn’t fall over in the new hooker boots, which meant I was mostly staring at my feet as I walked toward them. I didn’t see half of Lucky’s cleaning staff stop and stare at my entry, or Keeley’s mouth drop open. Thankfully, after making it all the way to the bar without falling over, I knew I could handle this job. Well maybe I wouldn’t go that far but at least I knew I could handle walking in six-inch stilettos.

I knew that I needed a job quickly if I wanted my makeover to happen before classes started. Therefore, I was ready to smile and charm the manager, without fidgeting in their uniform. Then maybe she wouldn’t realize I was really out of my element.

“So, you aren’t twenty-one yet?” the manager asks, with what sounded a lot like skepticism as her gaze landed on my chest.

“No, I just turned eighteen. Will that be a problem?” I’m immediately worrying that I had just struggled to fit into these pants for nothing. There was a lot of jiggling and jumping involved. If it had all been for nothing, I would hide it, but I’d really want to throw a tantrum that included foot stomping and fist clenching.

“No, I doubt you’ll be questioned at all looking like you do but I’ll need you to do one of those online training courses on alcohol serving. Until you can give me your completed paperwork, you will have to stick to working the floor and booths. I’m pretty sure our VIPs are going to love you. Nate and Dan are our main bartenders, so they’ll handle most of the drinks. Once your training course is done then I’ll give you a shot behind the bar. You’ll work weeknights before I put you on game days. We’re so close to the university that usually game days can draw our biggest crowds. I will let Nate know of your age and limitations, just in case though.”

Listening to the manager go on about my age, my looks and my hours, I couldn’t help but start to feel a little worried about what I had gotten myself into. I went straight from being relieved that my jiggling had not been for nothing, to imagining myself having to walk up to strangers in these pants.
Oh, God, strangers will be able to tell I buy my panties from Target in these pants.

Luckily she interrupts my crazy thoughts about going commando by stating,
“It
will probably take you a day or two to work in your boots, so how about you take them home today and we’ll see you on Thursday at 6pm.”

“Thank you so much,” I reply, focusing on my feelings of gratefulness rather than terror. I knew I was going to need every minute over the next few days to become comfortable in these shoes. The manager looks at me again with a weird appraisal of my hair and chest before she lets me know it’s, “No problem.”

She glances at her thin gold wristwatch. “Do you have any questions before I head off? Usually, we don’t open our doors until 8pm on weeknights and I have things I need to see too. The cleaning staff will lock up after you leave.”

“Did you want me to leave this uniform here, or do I take this, as well?” I ask, wondering if I would be able to successfully peel these leather pants off in the small storeroom again. It was definitely a feat getting my hips into these pants in a cramped space the first time. I also knew trying to pull them off, with my level of hand-eye coordination, would probably land my ass in one of the mop pails that was resting against the wall.

The manager smiles at me with her brilliant white teeth and sparkling violet eyes.

“I have tried to take those pants off in the storeroom before. I definitely wouldn’t risk it. Take the whole uniform home and I’ll see you Thursday. Also, if you and your girlfriends want free entry anytime, just tell Bo, our bouncer, that you work here. If he thinks you’ve made that up—because honestly, it wouldn’t be the first time—tell him Marissa hired you and to give me a call. He knows the drill. Anyway, I have plans tonight, so I better get going. Welcome to Lucky’s,” she says before she grabs her snakeskin handbag from behind the bar and ducks out the front door.

It’s then, with the sound of the club door closing, that I decide to look at Keeley with both eyebrows raised.

She starts giggling straight away until she can no longer control herself then begins dancing on the spot. Her dance repertoire mostly involves going between the sprinkler and the running man. “You knew about the free entry thing, didn’t you?” I ask, trying to keep my face straight and not start laughing at her jerky celebratory dance moves.

“Hells yes! Do you know how long I’ve lined up to get into Lucky’s before? I feel like any wrinkles that might be on my face grew while I waited in that line. Girlfriend, I knew you would look fucking
unreal
in that uniform, so they would be stupid not to hire you, and we now have free entry into the best club in the area. Also, we aren’t stuck only attending the under twenty-one nights anymore. We’re winners!” she shouts as she grabs both my arms and makes me join her flashy dance moves.

Unfortunately, I have not yet worked out how to walk, let alone dance, in my new suede boots. So after one twirl, I’m on my leather-covered ass in the middle of Lucky’s dance floor with half of the cleaning staff grinning at me. “Okay, so maybe we need to get you home so you can practice walking around in those boots,” Keeley says, pausing from her dance to look thoughtfully at my new uniform. “You think?” I ask, trying not to laugh as I use both hands to push myself off the ground.

Feeling like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time, I try to remain stable enough to grab the side of the bar and walk back toward the storeroom. After I collect the clothes I came into Lucky’s wearing, Keeley and I make our way to the exit. “Want to get ice cream on the way home?” she asks as we finally leave the darkness of the club, coming to stand in the sunshine where I parked my trusty little beetle.

“Is there a drive-thru ice cream place close by?” I enquire before staring forlornly at the driver seat through the windshield

“No.”

“Then I think it’s probably best I get home and start working out how to take this off,” I reply. “I also think we need to talk about who’s driving home.”

“Huh?”

Now I don’t often demonstrate how far I am able to spread my legs on a sidewalk, but my friend was planning on putting her life my in hands. I’m also wearing what I believe is traditionally meant for street-corner workers like Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman
. I knew she needed to see what I was dealing with.

Namely limited movement and poor ankle control. .

“Oh!” She giggles before grabbing the keys from my fingers.

I throw open the passenger side door and try to sit comfortably in an outfit that is now more intimately acquainted with parts of my body than I have ever been. Keeley throws one final look back at the club, pure glee shining from her face. I don’t look back. I didn’t need to see Lucky’s again to know to fear it.

PARKER

My heart hammered in my chest, my legs trembling with nerves as I crossed the busy street. As I approached the entrance to Lucky’s, looking the part of a high-class escort, I knew I was in no way ready to make my waitressing debut.
Sure,
I could walk and do a mean strut in my revealing leather ensemble and attention-grabbing heels. I had also mastered the art of peeling my uniform on and off my curvaceous body without my hipbones protesting furiously. Keeley even had me practice dancing around our apartment, swaying to music in my uniform. It felt absolutely ridiculous, but she told me she thought it would improve my tips if I looked like I belonged and felt comfortable in my surroundings. Honestly, after I thought about it, I couldn’t really fight her logic. So I practiced swinging my hips wide and moving to the music in our small dorm room. As a result of Keeley’s infectious enthusiasm, I could now even do the entire Nae Nae hip-hop dance move in this outfit.

Even though I felt more comfortable in my so called uniform, I wasn’t sure I was ready for what was waiting for me behind those grandiose steel doors. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I could make it through the doors without throwing up. The music from inside the club slips through the cracks as I venture closer. The throbbing pulse of each beat shakes the air around me.

A huge muscled man, clearly in a position of authority, stands before the doorway. With his arms crossed, his biceps bulge to what I’m pretty sure equates to the size of my head. His stance clearly communicates that no one will enter the place without talking to him first. I really wish I had checked out if the club had any back entrances during my interview. When I finally approach the mountain, who I assume must be Bo, he just mutters, “You Parker?” I just nod. Apparently, when faced with a giant, I become mute.

Having never met a giant before, I was unaware of this fact.

As Bo opened the doors and gestured me inside, I couldn’t help but wonder if Hagrid had been sent to pick me up as an eleven-year-old, would I have been able to ask him about Hogwarts? After how I handled Bo, I think probably not. I would probably end up stuck with the Dursleys. Even in J.K. Rowling’s awesome world, I would probably still only be ordinary.

With that depressing thought, I make my way across the darkly lit club. The DJ is doing a sound check and the room seemed to be buzzing with the anticipation of drunken sorority girls and lost inhibitions. There are about four other girls dressed like I am walking around the room, encased in skintight leather and wiping down the small metallic tables that accompany each booth. Everyone seemed to be keeping to themselves, storing their energy and fake enthusiasm for the patrons about to walk through the doors. Marissa told me that the main bartender would train me this evening and would be waiting for me at the bar beside the dance floor.

It wasn’t until I was almost leaning over the bar, trying to look for the bartender, that I saw
him
. His back was to me, but I knew those broad shoulders. Recognized his flawless olive skin. Grayson Waters was behind the bar at Lucky’s.

Suddenly, I felt like all the air in the room was sucked out and I found myself drowning in anxiety and gasping for breath. How had this not come up?! Everyone was always talking about him. Surely
someone
would have mentioned he worked here.

It no longer surprised me that Keeley mentioned everyone lined up for hours to get in here. I wasn’t sure if I could work so close to him. Sure, I went to high school with him and managed to be productive. I even managed to graduate as Valedictorian. But he was a year older, which always meant we never shared a class. I’ve never had to work with him in the same room as me.