She agreed like her friend clearly knew she would, the bitch, she thought with a smile. The dancers at Club Inferno didn’t have a wardrobe provided for them. Something sexy, hot, and tiny, she was informed.
Angel knew exactly what she would wear. She’d recently bought the cutest pair of black leather shorts that fit like a glove. They’d be perfect, teamed with a gorgeous tank in silver. A pair of six-inch heels would add the finishing touch. The whole outfit cost an arm and a leg, and screamed bondage. It would be perfect.
After showering and applying lotion, nervous tension almost had her calling Gia back. “You are not a quitter.” Resolutely, she laid her outfit out on the bed, loving it all over again.
She smoothed her hands down her sides and eyed her reflection in the full-length mirror. Turning to check out her bum in the tight shorts, she nodded in satisfaction. The heavy mass of black wavy hair brushed her lower back like a lover’s caress. The silver tank shimmered in the overhead lights, and the shoes, hot dayam, made her legs long as all get out. The ensemble was brilliant. Picking up her Hermes clutch, she danced out of the guest house of her parents’ estate, excitement making her giddy. It had been too long since she’d hung out with Gia, and dancing at a club for hours, knowing she and her best friend would be in the same space all that time together, would be a blast, even if they weren’t talking.
With purposeful strides, she skirted the pool, admiring the lighting her mom had installed to make the water ripple like a rainbow. Dang, walking from one side of the estate to the other is a workout in itself. Her shoes were not made for walking long distances. However, getting her groove on was a completely different matter. There was no way she would ever compromise comfort for style. Vertically challenged at only five foot two, she needed all the help she could get.
“Mommy, where are you?” she yelled, stepping into the kitchen.
Her mother insisted on cooking. No professional chef for her family. Now, a cleaning crew and lawn men were another matter. Since her family home was over ten thousand square feet, including the guest house, it was impossible for one person to clean the whole place. Besides, her mother hated cleaning with a passion.
“Hermosa, why you yell so loud?” Maria Rugiero asked, still stylish and youthful at forty-five.
Angelina kissed her mom’s cheek. “I just wanted to let you know I was leaving. I’ll probably stay in Miami with Gia tonight.”
After Angelia explained that her best friend needed a fill-in dancer, her mother’s eyes twinkled as she took in the outfit Angelina had on.
“You better not let your father see that getup.”
“Hey, you were with me when we bought it. If I remember right, you even picked this out.” She indicated the top.
“Si, of course I did. It is magnifico.” Her mother kissed her fingers.
Smiling, she said her goodbyes before her father came in and made a scene at her excessive display of skin. Angelina jumped into her Ferrari Suderia. Listening to the engine purr and feeling the vibrations through the leather seats brought a smile to her face.
Club Inferno sat on Main Street in one of the most expensive areas of Miami. Seeing the valet’s eyes light up as she pulled her car in caused a momentary sense of panic to flare, but was quickly vanquished with his reverent gaze and boyish grin.
As he rounded the hood, she noticed how extremely handsome he was. His cocky swagger, on the other hand, did nothing for her. She relinquished the keys to him and felt his eyes on her ass during the short trip to the club’s entrance. She was used to men’s stares, but his gave her the creeps. Barely controlling a shiver, she increased her speed and sighed at the blessedly cool interior of the building.
She spotted Gia immediately, and they looked each other up and down, each giving the once over before nodding.
“Hey, you, what took so long?” Gia asked, coming out from behind the bar. She had on skin-tight white jeans and a red off-the-shoulder top that molded to her body. Where Angelina had an overabundance of curves, she was tall and sleek.
“I told you, I had to wash the stink off and get ready. It takes work to look this good.” Angelina indicated her body with a hand on her hip.
“Damn, girl, you are hot, with a capital H.” Gia fanned herself.
“Right back atcha. So, where do you want me?” Rubbing her hands together, Angel couldn’t wait to get to work. For her, dancing was a way to express her sexuality. She drew a deep breath as she followed Gia, relishing the opportunity to be in Lorenzo’s club.