Page 54 of How to Get Lucky
When she’s done, I stop the recording and slide the phone into my pocket. Then I start a slow clap, long and proud.
London, only slightly out of breath, smiles when she says, “For real? You liked it?”
“Loved it. That was incredible. Seriously amazing.”
She beams and then throws her arms around me.
I wince, wishing I could linger in a hug with London for hours, but we need to keep our distance at the club until we can sort everything out.
“Hey, watch the sweat, woman,” I tease to create some distance between us.
“Right, right. I’m covered in it,” she says with a laugh. Then she sighs, relieved. “That felt good. The performance.”
“Because it was. You’re better than us.”
Stanley’s voice booms across the club as he appears in the main room, Carlos by his side. Stanley’s not normally the loud one, so I tilt my head, curious.
“You saw that?” I ask.
“Saw it. Loved it.”
“Did you really?” London chimes in, eager perhaps for feedback from another dancer.
“So much that I’ll be coming here as a patron too,” Stanley says with a big, genuine grin.
“Me too, and that’s saying something,” Carlos puts in. “Very sexy. If you’re into ladies.”
“Some men are,” Stanley adds with a shrug, softer this time, his usual tone.
“Takes all kinds,” Carlos says, then moves closer, bumping hips with London. “We’ll have to work on a dance someday, girl. You’ve got the moves.”
“Name the time and place, and I’m there,” she says, and I’m grinning too as London basks in the moment and the praise from all quarters.
Then she goes right into work mode. “Okay, Teddy. Let’s get that video edited and uploaded so I can start sharing it with some casting directors and choreographers, and Archer, of course.”
“I’m on it, boss,” I say, loving this take-charge side of London.
“And assuming Archer likes the concept—” she says.
“Which he totally will,” Stanley cuts in.
“I hope so. Then we can start prepping the next steps on this thing,” London continues. “Hire dancers, rehearse, promote.”
“Can’t wait to see it,” Carlos says, and he and Stanley head to the dressing room.
London turns to me, her eyes full of gratitude. “I couldn’t have done this without you. Thank you. For everything.”
“The pleasure has been mine.” We’re alone in the club for the moment, the joint unusually quiet.
“Mine too,” she says in a soft, barely audible whisper that makes me shiver.
My body sways a little closer to hers, but I determinedly resist the urge to kiss her. Her smile tells me resistance is hard for her too.
But we won’t have to do it for much longer.
Tomorrow, I’ll make the first move—set the wheels in motion so that in a few weeks’ time, we can come clean.
It’s risky, but I’m ready.
It’s time for me to do my own thing.
And then to get the girl.
31
The woman I want crosses one ankle over the other, lounging seductively at an outdoor table as the sun streams across the sidewalk.
Then again, everything she does is seductive to me.
She could clean the kitchen counter and look hot.
As I near her, London pops her purple sunglasses up on her head and shoots me a smile.
I give her a curious look as I join her at House of Pies the next morning. I worked too late to see her last night.
“Purple shades? An homage to Prince?” I ask when I reach her table.
“Or maybe it’s my favorite color when I’m in a particularly good mood,” she says, rising from her chair.
That’s my invitation to slide in for a kiss.
I cup her cheek, press a kiss to her soft lips, and imagine we’ll do this every day.
We break the contact and sit. “So, purple is your favorite color. I can’t believe I didn’t know this,” I say. “We need to rectify this right now. I need all sorts of favorites from you.”
“Ooh, a rectification. I’m down for that. Also, how dirty does that word sound? As dirty as, say, flange or masticate?”
“Or bilabial fricative.”
She blinks, then narrows her eyes. “Wash your mouth out with soap.”
“I know, right? Sounds filthy.”
“Sounds intriguing. What the flange is a bilabial fricative?” she asks, but before I can answer, a waiter stops by.
We order eggs and coffee, and thank him.
Once he leaves, I answer London. “I wish it were a wild new position I could introduce you to. It’s just a type of consonant sound. But it’s one of those things I learned from having to, ya know, use my voice for a living.”
“If you want some dirty-sounding jargon from my profession, I can offer coccyx balance.”
I lean closer, lowering my voice. “I’d like to balance you on my cock.”
She laughs. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist that.”
“You were right. But don’t let me distract you from the rectification. Tell me stuff.”
She taps her glasses. “These are my prescription shades, because purple is my favorite color. But sometimes red is too. You know my favorite food is sushi and that I pledge my allegiance to ice cream. I should probably add that my favorite movie of all time is Ten Things I Hate About You because Heath Ledger can sing and act, and I love the nineties, which you know because of my 90210 shirt. And I bet it won’t surprise you to know that my favorite book is Pride and Prejudice,” she says, and I grin like a lovestruck fool because I knew some of that, but not all, and I fucking love learning things about this woman.
