Page 45 of Dance for Me
“Unfortunately, no. Wade doesn’t believe it started or ended there, he went aroundCirqueand tore the place apart, checking any place there could be a hidden compartment. If it came intoCirque, he searched it. The day you and I…the day you came into my office, and I was upset, he had found more in a completely different area of the club. Smaller amounts spread out, sewn into garment bags for new costumes, another thing I apparently ordered.”
I don’t miss the pink tint highlighting her cheeks as she mentions the day I had her spread before me like a feast. Panting, eager and needy for my mouth. I shift to adjust myself, remembering the way she tugged on my hair, trying to drag me where she needed me. This is such a bad time to be thinking of her pretty pussy, buttechnicallyshe brought it up first.
She doesn’t miss the movement, then again, not really something I can hide.
“Sorry stud, I don’t have any cotton candy in the town car, you’ll have to practice your self-control the old-fashioned way,” she smiles. Despite everything she’s shared tonight, she still holds some of that levity I saw at the bar when we first arrived,as though sharing that part of her life with me has let a little more of Harper through the Ringleader façade.
I lean towards her body, bringing my hand up to press my thumb against her bottom lip, dragging it across to the corner of her mouth.
“Sunshine, if you don’t stop toying with me, I’m going to show you how little control I have when it comes to you.”
“Colton,” A whisper of my name as she pulls back slightly, desire and caution coating every letter as her voice wraps around me. The way she says my name grounds me, the unwelcome reminder that while she believes I want her, she doesn’t believe I wantallof her. It doesn’t matter how many times I say it, words are empty, and lies come too easily in her world. I hum softly before I let her go and put a respectable distance between us, picking back up where we left off.
“And where are the drugs now? I’m guessing you didn’t leave them somewhere inCirque?”
She gives me a skeptical look, like I’m insulting her by asking such a question.
“They’re safe.”
I wait a few seconds to see if she will elaborate, but the silence stretches, and I realize I’m not going to get more details on that front.
“So, what’s the next move? Who knows?”
“Only the people that absolutelyhaveto know. I don’t know who to trust right now, given the knowledge of cameras and the results of the locker sweep, someone atCirqueis either running the show or helping the person who is. Only you, Sadie, Wade and Stella know. Stella wasn’t exactly a choice, but so far, she hasn’t given any reason to doubt her. Jury is still out.”
I feel a sense of elation and anxiety pool at hearing the undertone to her words. The people who know are the ones that she’s already deemed to be innocent of speculation, the ones shetrusts.
The significance is not lost on me, and based on the way Harper fidgets, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, she also feels the weight of that statement. I could spare her the need to say it, but I want the words. I want the weight and responsibility that comes with them.
“Is the jury still out on me too? Are you telling me because you think you have to?” I ask her, holding my breath as she pauses her fidgeting and tilts her head back and forth like she’s contemplating.
After what feels like an eternity, she smiles. “No, Colton, I told you because Iwantedyou to know. I told you because I trust you with this.”
You trust me with your secrets, but not your heart.
She moves on, words matter of fact. “I’m also pretty sure you got your ass kicked because of this, so it felt only right to tell you why.” Her grin is wicked.
“I didnot—” She speaks quickly, cutting off my protest.
“It’s totally understandable! Could happen to anyone!” She’s enjoying far too much the way my nostrils flare and my hands flex. I can’t hide my smile as I lean towards her and she moves with me until her back is pressed against the car door, smile flirting with sin. Brat. She’s begging to be laid across my lap.
She lifts a finger, waving it back and forth,tskingas she points to the partition separating us from the driver, like the entire conversation we’re having isn’t more sensitive than him hearing her moan.
She lifts a hand to my chest as she sits forward, moving us back to the center of the seat. Like she can hear my thoughts, her voice drops to just above a whisper, “We did a locker sweep, found a small baggie of cocaine in Ben’s bag,” she holds her phone out to me, a photo already pulled up on the screen.
It’s a small dime sized clear bag, a simple sketch of one ofthose three-pointed jester hats stamped on the outside in black ink, a moniker of the production or perhaps the dealer. I only recognize the symbol because I’ve seen it atCirque, sometimes as a prop for a costume or even as a stenciled outline to garnish the top of a cocktail or dessert.
It may not beCirque’slogo, but the intent is clear. It connects the drug to the design and aesthetic ofCirqueand in tandem, to Harper. It’s more than that, it’s a declaration of war, a mockery of what Harper has built, to her rules and to her history.
“Should I ask about what happened to Ben, or is it better I don’t know. Plausible deniability and all that,” I lean back, bringing my arm up to rest along the back of the seat where Harper sits, my hand reaching out to run a strand of her hair through my fingers. It’s soft, like liquid ink spilling over my hand.
“Ben is exactly where he needs to be. Snorting his way through rehearsals with a fake supply we swapped out, benched from performances and based on the mirror app we loaded onto his phone, planning out his next score,” she says, checking her phone to see the details of a plan forming between Ben and his dealer. My fingers halt their dance, the strands of her dark hair slipping between them.
“Wait, so you aren’t removing him fromCirque, or reporting him to the cops?” I ask her, taken aback that she would let him continue working like nothing happened.
“Ah, see this is the part of the plan everyone seems to hate, Wade in particular,” she rolls her eyes before continuing. “Ben is notmyproblem. Hehasa problem. He needs help, but he doesn’t have the drive or ambition to be leading this show. Once he leads me to the next rung on the ladder, he will be out of the picture and on his way to help,” she states matter of fact, not breaking eye contact.
Harper spends the rest of the drive going through what they found on Ben’s phone and the details of her plan. Using some mirror bug Sadie installed to see everything he’s doing, from watching him swipe on a dating app to setting up a meet with his dealer for his next buy, which apparently is the key to Harper’s plan. So far, I agree with Wade, it’s a bad plan.
