Trouble (18 page)

Surprisingly, when Ginger had shown up, she’d brought not only her man Jason, but Samair’s old boss Bethany and her husband, Grant.

“I’m so excited for you, Samair.” Bethany had wrapped her in a big warm hug when they’d arrived. “This is fabulous!”

“Thank you. And thank you for coming. How’s the baby?”

“Big,” she’d laughed. “Big enough that I’ll be going back to the boutique soon.”

“Only part time,” her husband had said as he tucked her against his side.

The love and affection between them was obvious, and when Ginger ushered them away to their table, the adoration in Jason’s eyes for her was just as blatant.

Everything was working out better than Samair could’ve expected. She had friends and even part of her family around her. The sexy man at her side was pretty damn nice, too, even if there was still so much about him she didn’t know.

“Well, Sam, where do you want me?” Brett’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

“I’m going to check on things in the bachelor room. Once you get your brother organized, check on the models and remind them to get down to the tent by the separate entrance early.” Val pressed a small kiss to her temple and rubbed her back comfortingly. “I’ll see you there.”

Val walked away and Samair’s stomach dropped. Brett grinned. “He seems like a good guy. A little older than you, and definitely rough and tough beneath the surface. Mom and Dad will hate him.”

Samair shuddered. “Mom and Dad will never meet him, Brett. He’s a lover, that’s all. Not a boyfriend.”

“Uh-huh.”

 

 

V
al found Karl in the bachelor room, schmoozing with the more influential people who had wanted their privacy assured, and were willing to pay handsomely for it.

To him, it was a contradiction that people who were so paranoid about their privacy would come out to a show anyway. Karl had worked his magic though, assuring them that they would have complete privacy from the rest of the club with a private show.

The logistics of giving them a separate fashion show hadn’t been easy to figure out. They’d set up a small changing tent just outside the bachelor room’s separate entrance on the side of the building, and the models had agreed to do a change out there. Then they’d all go back inside and do the show again, for the general occupants of the bar.

“How’s it going in here?” he asked Karl when he found him at the back, watching over the crowd.

“Smooth, buddy. Your staff is keeping the drinks flowing, and the catering is a definite hit.”

Val looked over at the tables along the back wall of the room. He’d arranged for buffet style catering and the two end tables were piled high with hot hors d’oeuvres such as poached salmon rounds and crab puffs, along with plates and such. But the middle table was what made it all special.

Centered in the dimly lit area was a long table, the crisp white linen cloth covering it a deep contrast to the dark skinned body stretched out on top of it.

Sushi, sashimi, tempura-battered veggies, and prawns covered the woman’s bare flesh. Flower petals of various colors and leafy greens were strategically littered over her breasts and belly, while a small porcelain plate with pickled ginger and wasabi waited in the juncture of her thighs, hiding just enough of her hairless pussy to tease.

“For two hundred bucks a head I figured I’d better come up with something other than free booze for them. Ambrosia Catering promised me that, and I see they delivered.”

Karl slapped him on the back.

“All the tickets were sold, so that’s some solid coin. Between this and what you make at the front door, you’re home free, brother.”

“As much as I hate to anticipate . . . I think you’re right. Now if we can sell a lot kinky shit, Samair’s new business will be off to a great start, too.”

“How’s she doing?”

Val gave him a look.

“Hey, I like her.” Karl grinned. “She seemed pretty smart, she’s got a rockin’ body, and there’s no arguing with her taste in lingerie.”

“Speaking of which, you got plans later tonight?”

Karl’s eye narrowed. “Not really. Why?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

S
amair gritted her teeth and let Joey push her out of the ladies room they’d commandeered as a dressing room for the final show. The private showing in the bachelor room had already gone off without a hitch and it was only minutes until the second showing, the one that would take place on the dance floor.

“We’re
fine
,” Joey said with a gentle push. “You’re driving us nuts though, so go sit and watch like the rest of the crowd.”

Mike turned from his post outside the change room, and the two exchanged a lingering look. He was there to make sure nobody got in the dancers’ way as they strutted to the dance floor, and he grinned when he saw Samair’s mutinous expression.

“They’re a cocky bunch, aren’t they?” he asked.

Samair felt her cheeks flush. “Yes, they are. It’s a good thing they know what they’re doing.”
I hope.

She looked around the club, at a loss as to where to go until she spotted Bethany waving at her from a few feet away.

“Ready?” she asked when Samair joined their table just as the lights dimmed and the music lowered.

“Not by a long shot.”

“Welcome to Risqué, everyone.” Val was standing in the middle of the dance floor on the temporary raised stage they’d had put in. “We’re normally closed on Sunday nights, but tonight is special. Tonight is the debut show for a local fashion designer who specializes in the naughty and risqué. Her name is Samair Jones, and the label you’re all going to want to remember is Trouble. Now please, sit back and enjoy your first look at her new line.”

Instead of watching the show, Samair watched the crowd. The dancers strutted their stuff as people nodded and smiled, some oohed and aahed, and a few looked bored. She didn’t panic at the bored expressions of one or two; she could see the outfits with a critical eye, and knew they were just what she’d been aiming for.

By the time the six of them did a final walk-through together, people were pointing and everyone was clapping. The models stopped on stage and waved Samair up. Pleasure and pride made her heart race as she stepped on stage with her models and took a bow. Her eyes met Joey’s and the two of them grinned like idiots. A dream had just come true, and they both knew it.

She stepped off the stage without saying a word to the crowd. She didn’t need to; her designs had spoken for themselves, and the models were making their way through the crowd now to show them off up close.

Bethany rushed up to her as soon as she was on the ground and gave her a big hug. “I knew you loved to play with and alter clothes, Samair, but I had no idea that my shy and quiet salesgirl had so much talent. You did terrific!”

Suddenly Val was at her side, speaking softly. “Fantastic show, babe. So fantastic Karl is swamped in the bachelor room taking orders for Trouble, and Brett is still in there helping him, so we’ve got no one out here to take orders.”

“Have you got a price list?”

Both Samair and Val faced Bethany in surprise.

“What?” she said. “I ran a clothing boutique for a long time, I think I can take some special orders.”

Overwhelmed with surprise and appreciation, Samair almost cried. “Really? You don’t mind?”

Samair made a quick dash up to Val’s office and snatched up a pre-printed price list, and a stack of her business cards for Bethany. She’d just handed them off to her friend and was getting ready to work the crowd when a sullen couple stepped in front of her.

“Well, well, well. Who knew you had it in you?” the bleached blonde said with a smirk.

“Lisa, what are you doing here?” Anger bubbled to life in her gut.

She’d made it a point to retrieve her stuff from the apartment when Lisa was at work, and even though they’d spoken briefly on the phone a few times about the apartment, they hadn’t seen each other since the night Samair had walked out.

“We heard about the show and had to come check it out. You know, seeing is believing and all that.”

Samair looked at Kevin, standing silent beside Lisa, his embarrassment clear. “I hope you enjoyed the show,” she said through gritted teeth and turned to leave.

Only a sharp-clawed hand grabbed her arm and swung her back to see an ugly snarl on Lisa’s face. “I know you only got into this kinky stuff in an effort to get Kevin back, but it’s not going to work. You can pretend all you want, but we both know you can’t give him what he needs.”

“First off,” Samair said as she jerked her arm out of Lisa’s grip. A large presence closed in behind her but she didn’t bother to look back. “I’ve been sewing and designing my own clothes since I was sixteen, which you would know if you’d bothered to be a real friend when we lived together. Secondly, I have no desire to see
either
of you ever again. Therefore, thirdly, anything I get into—kinky or otherwise—has absolutely nothing to do with you.”

Lisa’s mouth opened but Samair beat her to the punch. She crossed her arms over her chest and spoke firmly. “Save it. Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it. If you’re not here to enjoy the party, then leave.”

“You okay?” Val asked softly from behind her when Lisa and Kevin were out of earshot.

She summoned a smile and spun around to face him. “I’m great. How are you?”

His eyes narrowed. She could see he wanted to push the issue, but before he could say anything another woman appeared to congratulate Samair on a wonderful show. A steady stream of people came up to Samair and she lost track of Val as she mingled, absorbing the energy of the crowd and living in the moment.

 

 

T
he best part of the show for Joey was the fact that Mike had seen it. There had been many, many hot eyes on her throughout the night. First, in the luxurious private room, then out in the club. When the show was over, and she was mingling in the club, letting people see her outfit up close and touch the materials, she did her best to stay focused on the job. To tell them about the outfit, and how to order things, to hand out business cards and rave about all of the clothes she’d been wearing over the years that had been made by the talented Samair Jones. An hour after the show finished, there was finally enough of a lull that she could speak to him.

“One more hour to go, baby. Then I’ll give you a very private show.”

His smile was rueful. “I have to be at work early, and you have an important audition tomorrow. You need to get some sleep, so it’s no good for either of us to stay up all night talking again.”

Hurt, frustration, and confusion welled up inside her. But she was strong and independent, and she didn’t want him to see just how much his rejection stung. She stretched her lips into a smile and shrugged. “Okay, have a good night then,” she said. And walked away.

“Joey,” he called after her. But she kept going. Pretending not to hear him, she headed for the bachelor room to do one last go-around. Val had brought in private security for the room, and Mike couldn’t follow her. Not that he even tried.

 

 

 

 

 

 

T
he Fetish and Fantasy show was held as a special event on a Sunday night, when Risqué would normally be closed. It worked out well that way because the regular party-all-night crowd wasn’t in attendance and when last call was announced at midnight instead of two in the morning, the place was already emptying out.

Samair was flying high on adrenaline and jubilation, floating six inches off the ground as she stood on the top landing saying good night to people as they left. Not only had Brett handed her forty-three orders from the clients in the bachelor room—several of which were orders for more than one item—but Vera, Val’s ex wife, had made it a point to make a lunch date with her.

Samair wasn’t sure exactly what that was all about. The woman was openly flirtatious and seductive toward her, making it clear she was sexually attracted, but when she’d made the date she’d implied it was about placing a large order from Trouble. Samair had only been with one woman in her life and that was Joey. While she wasn’t biased against same-sex relationships, she wasn’t interested in one either. Her affair with Joey had been a one-time thing, her curiosity had been sated, and their friendship cemented in it. But deep down, Samair knew she loved cock way too much to go that route again. Especially with Val’s ex-wife.

She didn’t know what to make of the relationship between Val and Vera, either. She’d seen them talking at one point. Well, Vera had been talking, her head tilted up and her hand on his sleeve in that universal flirtatious way of a woman trying to seduce, while he’d scowled down at her. Just as Samair had started to make her way over to them, Val had leaned in close to say something, then stalked away.

That was when Vera had zeroed in on Samair, and she’d gotten the distinct impression that whatever Val had said to her had set Vera’s seduction in motion.

“Don’t be such a stranger, Samair.” Ginger’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Samair snapped back to the present to see Ginger and Bethany, and their respective men, coming toward her.

“We don’t have work to hang out at together anymore, so don’t make me hunt you down again,” Ginger said, pulling her into a fierce hug.

“I won’t—be a stranger that is—although your timing on this last hunt was absolutely perfect.” Bethany reached over and hugged her, too. “Thank you so much for coming, I’m sorry I had to put you to work.”

“Are you kidding?” Grant laughed. “You made her night!”

Beth smacked him playfully, but gave Samair a sincere smile. “He’s right. I enjoyed every minute of it. Sexy and erotic you definitely did, and the workmanship and love you put into making the clothes is obvious. It was easy to sell.”