Besides Roland, of course.
He grabs my hand, and we go to where Evie is perched among our friends. Bea sits to her right. She’s sexy and petite and one of our best dancers. Bea’s best friend Vanessa sits on the other side of her sipping champagne. She’s a total bitch to me. Roland says it’s because Vanessa thought she’d be Tanya’s understudy until I came to live here after graduating from boarding school with the nuns. He says she took one look at me and knew her chances of becoming the lead were over.
Tanya, the star of our burlesque show, isn’t here. I’m not surprised, as she’s been losing weight, being late to practices, and seeming lethargic in her moves. She’s a contortionist, so she can hide a lot of fuck ups, but Roland said she’d better get her shit together before Gavin demotes her.
Although, if she goes down, it means I go up, and as excited as I might be about singing Roland’s songs, being out front means all the male attention is focused on me.
“Lara!” Evie jumps up gives me a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I hug her back. “Happy birthday.”
Evie’s a runaway from some podunk farming community in Memphis. She left home and became a New Orleans showgirl—not that it’s necessarily a step up.
A glass of champagne is placed in my hand, and we all raise a toast to Evie.
Roland takes my arm and we step over to the balcony. The city is spread out far below in a mixture of thick oak trees, rainbow neon lights, and yellow street lamps. Off in the distance, I hear the noise of a train whistle.
“What’d you think of him?”
“He’s okay, but I know how it goes. If I don’t put out, he’ll lose interest.”
Roland lights a cigarette and exhales a long puff of blue smoke. “Not necessarily. I talked to him, and this guy’s different.”
“He’s gay?” I give him a pointed look, and he laughs.
“No—he’s an entrepreneur.” Another pull, another long exhale. “He’s interested in trying new things, putting his money behind unique investments.”
“So I’m an investment?”
He nods. “You could be. Singers can do very well if they have the right backer, and if you get him emotionally invested as well as financially—”
“Then I’d be prostitute in every sense of the word.”
Roland’s growl is interrupted by a loud laugh from Evie. I glance at her still sitting among our strange family, and my mind travels back to the first night I saw what really went on after hours in our theater home.
Vanessa’s door had been open, and when I looked inside, she was on her knees, her fingers splayed over a man’s naked ass. Her head was pressed all the way to his pelvis, and he fisted her blonde hair, groaning loudly. His knees wobbled, and she coughed and gagged. He released her, shoving her back, and I watched him come all over her face, white liquid spilling down to her breasts.
I thought he was done, but he grabbed her head again, jerking his cock rapidly, milking the final drops as he finished. Then he threw her back on the floor and pulled up his pants.
I couldn’t tell if she enjoyed what happened.
Evie told me she was earning her keep.
Pushing the ugly memory aside, I look up at Roland watching Evie’s birthday group with a smile. “How long can I keep this up?” I ask him quietly.
“Keep what up?”
“Hiding, pretending like one day Gavin will actually make good on his promise. Staying away from those men.”
He shrugs. “I’ve been able to keep you away from them, and Gavin just gave me the go-ahead to write a new show. This could be it.”
My stomach tightens, and I want to believe him. I want to believe that my time has come, that Gavin’s promise to let me sing, to make me a real star and not a prostitute, might actually happen… It’s the one thing that keeps me from taking Molly and running away—well, in addition to free room and board and the fact I have no other job skills or prospects.
Another low horn sounds in the distance, three notes played together, one a half-step off. I try to place it. “Barge?”
Roland looks out across the dark city rooftops. Then he frowns. “Train. Headed north to Chicago, I bet.”
In his voice is a sound I seldom hear, one he never allows anyone to hear. It’s somewhere between longing and regret, and I glance up at him. He’s only a few years my senior, but in that moment he could be as young as Molly, wishing for something just out of reach.
It’s gone in an instant. He exhales a laugh, breaking the spell, and wraps his arm across my shoulders. “Relax. Gavin’s practical, but he never forgets a promise.”
My lips press together, and I don’t share my other fear—that Gavin’s promise doesn’t cover Molly, and the older she gets, the closer she gets to earning her keep.
“It also helps that your voice is smoky silk laced with heartbreak.” He squeezes me. “I can’t wait to get started writing. Come on.”
We return to the group where Evie is retelling how she stepped on Vanessa’s feather tail during the third number and ripped it off her ass.
“Good thing it wasn’t a butt plug,” Vanessa deadpans, and Evie screams.
“I blew champagne through my nose!” They’re getting a little tipsy. “At least it was funny!”
“Fiona didn’t laugh,” Roland says. “Our Mistress of the Dance was livid. You should’ve seen her backstage.”
“I’m such a menace.” Evie drapes a hand across her face, but my stomach sinks.
The clock is ticking on her days of staying in the show, and she’s my best friend. I reach for another glass of champagne to calm the anxiety pulsing in my chest, and as I lower it, I see the metal door slowly open and Gavin step into the night. Our owner is tall with light brown hair and calculating blue eyes.
Tonight his expression is grim. “Tanya said Evie is up here…”
The glass slips from my hand and shatters at my feet. His eyes flicker to mine, and he frowns. I’m silent, afraid of what he might say, but Roland crosses the space between us and takes hold of my wrist.
“Here to celebrate?” he asks, standing so his body blocks mine. “I was just discussing the new format with Lara.”
Gavin grunts. “Sound good to you?”
My throat is tight, but I manage to answer. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”
He nods then walks over to Evie, standing in front of her with his hands on his hips. He seems to grow taller in that instant, more sinister.
“Gavin?” Her eyes slowly rise to meet his. “Come to wish me a happy birthday?” She smiles, but I hear the tremor in her voice.
“Walk with me,” he says. “I’ve had a few queries about you. One is willing to pay top dollar…”
Roland pulls me through the exit and down the stairs. I follow him almost tripping to keep up with his fast pace.
We reach my door, and he shoves me toward it. “Go to bed.”
My heart is hammering, and fear radiates through my chest with every beat. “Will she… tonight?”