So he takes a deep breath and turns away. “Fifteen minutes until show time. Keep it clean. That’s an order.” And then he walks out of the dressing room and slams the door behind him.

Chapter Nineteen

The atmosphere for the show is different today than it was on Wednesday. People are louder, more animated. Drunk. Lots of bachelorettes in this crowd, and I bet each one wants a piece of these men tonight.

I crinkle my nose at that thought, just as Claudio comes up and taps me on the shoulder. “Tiff,” he says in that voice I dread. It’s his concerned voice. One that immediately tells me that something is wrong.

“What?” I can’t hold back the trepidation that spreads throughout my body like a wave. “What’s happened?”

“Your dad isn’t feeling well. He said he’s going back to San Francisco tonight.”

My dad has been sick for months. He had a slight stroke last year and some heart problems the year before. And even though he recovered, he’s been having dizzy spells. And he doesn’t like to talk about it with me, so I’m always the last to know. “Maybe I should go with him? I’ll go pack my stuff.”

“No,” Claudio says, grabbing my arm. “He’s already gone, Tiff. And he said he needs you here to take care of the hotel. He said he’ll call you tomorrow.”

“He always says that, Claudio. If you know what’s going on, then tell me! It’s driving me—” I stop and watch Cole walk into the theater with a woman on his arm. “Who the hell is that?”

Claudio opens his mouth to answer, looking a little too relieved about the distraction. “Wait,” I say. “Tell me about my dad first. Is he sick?”

“Tiffy,” he says, sighing. “I don’t know. I think you need to talk to him about it. And he said he was going to call you tomorrow. So ask him then. And as for that tramp”—he motions his head towards the table we’re going to share with Cole and now this girl—“she’s new at the office.”

“Since when?”

“The day we got here.”

“Bullshit. Cole never hires people without telling me.”

“Well, he did this one. Made her his executive assistant.”

“Well, I guess that really is his decision. But…” My words trail off as he pulls the chair out and she takes a seat, smiling up at him like… “Do you think they’re dating?”

“Not yet. So if you want him, you better make a move soon, girlfriend. Because he’s about to make his and it won’t be you on his arm tonight.”

Holy shit. “I’ll be right back.”

I don’t even wait for Claudio to answer before I’m making a mad dash towards backstage. The security guy waves me through and I enter the dimly lit hallway and pass the dressing rooms as I make my way towards the back.

When I get to Fletcher’s door, I knock. “Fletch?” I call. “You in there?”

I hear a faint, “Come in,” and so I twist the handle and peek my head in.

“You busy?” I ask. He’s standing in front of the mirror buckling a holster onto his hip. He’s got a cowboy hat on, faded jeans, and cowboy boots.

He looks fucking hot.

As usual.

“Not any busier than normal five minutes before the show opens.” He yells over Chandler’s booming voice from the stage. “What’s up?”

“Cole is up! He’s got a girl out there. He brought a date! He’s here with a girl from the office!”

“Calm down, princess.” He gives me a little rumbling chuckle and then that grin I’ve grown to love. “How do you know it’s a date? Maybe it’s just business?”

“What kind of girl goes to see a stripper with her boss?”

“I don’t know,” he says, leaning his perfect ass against the dressing table and crossing his arms over his chest. “What kind of boss invites her employee up to her room?”

“I was going to fire you. And it’s not the same. You don’t really work for me. This girl is his”—I make air quotes—“executive assistant. How’s that for bullshit?”

Fletcher grabs my hand and pulls me towards him. All kinds of nerve endings start firing in my body from his touch. “Are you jealous?” he asks, putting his hands on my hips once I’m within a few inches of his chest.

I’m about to scream, Hell, yes! when I stop. “I don’t know if I’m jealous, exactly. But I’m pissed. This was supposed to be my big night. I had this all planned. We,” I stress, “had this all planned.”

His hands slide up my body until his fingertips are pressing on the back of my ribs and his thumbs are right underneath my breasts. I have to take a deep breath. “What are you doing, Fletcher?”

“Making you crazy.”

“Stop and help me get rid of this girl!”

He stands up straight and leans into my neck. “How should I do that?”

Fuck. Why is Fletcher so hot?

“Should I pick her out of the crowd? Make her feel special? Take her to my room?”

Sometimes I wish he’d take me to his room. I got a taste of his magic that first night and holy fuck, if Cole and Claudio weren’t there and we’d had time alone, I might’ve fucked him that night.

Focus, Tiffy.

“Um, yeah?”

“That sounds like a question. Do you want me to take this girl home tonight, Tiffy? Ruin her chances with Cole?”

“Sorta. I just want my chance, ya know? I just want my one opportunity to make him see me as a possibility. And this was gonna be it. I was going to use all those tricks and get him to notice.”

A knock at the door interrupts us. “One minute, Fletcher,” some stage guy says.

Fletcher looks down at me with a small smile. Not the grin he had on a few seconds ago. “I’ll take care of it, Tiffy. OK? And then you can have another date with him tomorrow and that one will go perfect.”

I nod, unable to take my eyes off his face. That smile isn’t happy, it’s… sad. Something is wrong. And I’m just about to open my mouth to ask why he’s sad when I hear Chandler announcing the guys on stage.

“Just go sit down and be patient. When the girl is gone, make a date for dinner with Cole. I’ll take care of her.”

And then he walks out the door to do his thing.

Chapter Twenty

Tiffy is right. That asshole brought a girl with him. And she might be his assistant, but she’s a whole lot more than that.

I walk out on stage with the rest of the guys dressed up in our cowboy gear and I automatically do the line dance we’ve been working on the past few weeks. But my eyes never leave that girl. Not once. I don’t care if I’m on the other side of the stage, doing the stripper version of the cupid shuffle, I’m looking at her. It takes her a few minutes to catch on, but by the time we hop down on the floor to flirt, she’s not looking at anyone but me.

Cole frowns as I walk up to the table and take her by the hand. On Saturdays we choose three girls. One in the beginning, one during our solos, and one at the end. She’s gonna be my pick all night long.

Her hand is sweating as I lead her up on stage with the rest of the first picks and motion for her to take a seat on one of the chairs lined up. She nervously sits in the middle chair with two girls on either side of her.

Chandler squints his eyes at me once he realizes who’s in my hot seat, but we’re on stage, so what is he gonna do about it now?

I chuckle a little as the rest of us guys line up behind the ladies and start the next dance. This one invokes a trick that each of us do using the chair and the girl as props.

Steve is up first, and his trick is that little chair-rung jumping I used on Tiffy last Wednesday. His girl squeals and covers her mouth, and I spy Tiffy chatting with Cole while I wait my turn.

Steve straddles his girl, grinds her face into his dick for a ten count—that makes me laugh—and then jumps off the top rung and lands a perfect backflip off the stage.