Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I don’t truly give a flying fuck. All I want is to get out of this area, out from the place where I was first initiated into that so-called club of Ray’s.
My phone is in my jacket pocket, and as I pull it out, Bianca’s business card flutters out.
I grab it quickly. It smells like her perfume.
Damn it all.
I’m hard again.
14
BIANCA
The audience goes wild.
I just finished up my third set of the evening. Rouge forced me back onto the stage after Harrison was kicked out. I was thankful for it, to be honest. I needed something to get Harrison off my mind.
The way he took me in the grand suite, not caring a lick that we had a silent witness to it all in the corner.
In a way, that turned me on even more.
I’ve never been particularly adventurous in bed, but he ignited something in me. A curiosity for something more, one that hasn’t existed in me since my NYC days.
I take a bow and gesture to my musicians. Even without Harrison there, my third set was some of the best singing I’ve done in months. It’s incredible how much my voice is affected by my emotions. I can still deliver on a day when I’m not feeling good, but it’s like pulling teeth to get some of my notes—especially those in my upper-middle register—to shine. Tonight I barely had to think about my technique. The music flowed through my body.
Of course, that’s not to say my focus was entirely on my performance. As a rule, I never have my phone on me when I perform. If anyone needs to get hold of me during a performance, they have to wait until my next break. A small vibration—or God forbid, an actual ringtone—could take me out of the moment and keep me from giving a good show.
Normally, I have no problem parting with my phone. I use it far too much in my day-to-day life anyway. But tonight, I can’t help wondering if Harrison has texted me.
I passed my business card into his jacket pocket discreetly as Chet was escorting him out. I had a boyfriend back in NYC who used to be a pickpocket, and he taught me a few tricks. I haven’t had much use for them until tonight. I didn’t want Rouge to know I wanted to get into contact with Harrison outside of the club.
But I may have been too inconspicuous. It’s entirely possible he hasn’t looked at it yet.
I’m being silly.
Or am I?
There’s something about Harrison O’Rourke. Something that I haven’t seen in a man since… Since possibly ever, if I’m being honest.
And it’s not just the fact that we were doing it like bunnies barely an hour ago.
I give the musicians one more gesture to take a bow and then I make my way off the stage. I shuffle into my dressing room, locking the door behind me.
I open my phone, and… Yes! A text from Harrison.
Loved getting to know you. Any chance you’re free for dinner sometime?
My heart soars.
I’m being silly, getting this worked up over a man. But I don’t care.
It’s been so long since I’ve actually felt something other than pain or shame—or an unpleasant combination of the two—from being with a man.
I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. I have to play this cool. If he saw how I reacted to a simple text, he’d probably go running for the hills.
I open my calendar. Today is Friday the thirteenth. Funny. Usually an unlucky day—at least according to those who are superstitious—but my luck has shifted for the better.
Of course, it wasn’t a lucky day for Mr. Calloway.
Tomorrow is Saturday, the fourteenth. I’ll be back at the club singing, but I could meet Harrison earlier.
I type out a quick response, checking it three times before hitting send.
Loved meeting you, too. I have to be back at Aces at 8pm tomorrow eve. Maybe an early dinner before?
Sent. Delivered.
The three little dots bounce on the screen.
Do you like oysters?
I’ve never had them, but I’m always willing to try something new.
Don’t hate the sound of that. ;)
Very funny. But that sounds good to me. Do you have a place in mind?
Yeah. Brassica Rex. Off Lake and State. Not too far from where you need to be after.
Great. It’s a date. Excited to see you!
I almost added a heart emoji to the end of that last text, but again, I want to keep it cool. He already sent me a winky face. Don’t want to overindulge.
I let out a sudden giggle. Aren’t oysters supposed to be an aphrodisiac?
Not that I need any help being attracted to Harrison.
I hope he isn’t just seeing me as some sex toy. I want him to date me for me.
Either way, I’m looking forward to it.
Hell, I’m actually excited. For the first time in a while, I’m excited about something.