The music was heavy and throbbing, the lights were dim, and the place was filling up. Samair stood at the railing on the top landing and looked down on the lower floor of Risqué and pressed a hand to her stomach to still the fluttering there.
Heat blanketed her back and warm hands cupped her shoulders. “It’s going to be fine.” Val kissed the back of her neck.
“Is that a promise?” she asked without looking at him.
“The show doesn’t start for another hour and we’re almost full. The bachelor room is full. Everyone is in a good mood, your models are in the office having a blast. Don’t worry.”
The last few days had flown by, without a chance for her and Val to be alone together. She’d pulled several all-nighters sewing and putting together the half-dozen new designs that were the features of the Fetish and Fantasy show. She’d whipped up several of her other, more basic, designs as well. The softer, sexier camisoles and lace teddies would help round out the fantasy aspect of the show.
She’d even put together a couple of feathered masks and made a nurses uniform out of white netting and a few strategically placed scraps of white leather.
The models had been coached so that once the stage and runway part of the show was over, they’d go out into the crowd and chat people up, and sell, sell, sell.
Samair turned, resting her back against the railing and facing Val. Just being near him was calming her nerves. “Thanks for offering the models some incentive. I appreciate it.”
“A few bar tabs isn’t much to me. It’s the least I could do for you.” He kissed her forehead.
The least he could do? Samair remembered the fully loaded catering tables in the bachelor room and the flyers plastered all over town. She’d even heard the show promoted on a local radio station that afternoon. He’d done so much already.
Taking a deep breath she looked up at him. “Why are you doing all this?”
“What do you mean?” His expression never changed. He still looked calm, cool, and collected, but Samair’s radar hummed.
“What’s in this for you? I mean, you were fucking me before, so it’s not sex, and it’s not like Risqué needs more business. So what do you get out of putting so much into this?”
Their eyes met and the silence grew.
“Money,” he said finally. “Money is what I get. An event like this, where I can charge a lot at the door and I don’t have to pay you, or the models, brings a lot of money into the club.”
“I don’t get it.” Samair shook her head. Unable to not touch him, she reached out and rested a hand on his tense bicep. “If it’s just about making some money and getting exposure for the club, why didn’t you tell me that when I asked you the first time?”
“Sam! You look great, sis. Are you nervous?”
His timing sucked but Samair was delighted to hear her brother’s voice, just the same. She stepped around Val and greeted Brett with a hug. “Nervous, anxious, nauseous, all of the above. Thank you so much for coming!”
“Of course I came. I was planning to come to see what you’ve been up to anyway. The flyers have been all over the place. So the fact that I can actually help out is a bonus.” Brett let her go and held out his hand to Val. “Brett Jones, Sam’s brother.”
Samair stepped in to finish the introductions. “This is Valentine Ward, Brett. The owner of the nightclub, and my friend.”
Val’s eyes widened slightly at the introduction, but then he smiled and some of the tension eased from him visibly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Brett. Samair tells me you’re quite the hockey player.”
The men started to talk hockey and Samair tuned them out. Val was looking very sexy in his tux, and just being near him calmed Samair’s nerves. It was nice to have Brett there, too. She’d called Cherish and her parents and told them about the show as well, but the complete lack of interest and understanding in their voices had kept her from actually inviting them.
Surprisingly, when Ginger had shown up, she’d brought not only her man Jason, but Samair’s old boss Bethany and her husband, Grant.
“I’m so excited for you, Samair.” Bethany had wrapped her in a big, warm hug when they’d arrived. “This is fabulous!”
“Thank you. And thank you for coming. How’s the baby?”
“Big,” she’d laughed. “Big enough I’ll be going back to the boutique soon.”
“Only part time,” her husband had said as he tucked her against his side.
The love and affection was obvious between them, and when Ginger ushered them away to their table, the adoration in Jason’s eyes for her was just as blatant.
Everything was working out better than she could’ve expected. She had friends and even part of her family around her. The sexy man at her side was pretty damn nice, too, even if there was still so much about him she didn’t know.
“Well, Sam, where do you want me?” Brett’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
“I’m going to check on things in the bachelor room. Once you get Brett organized, check on the models, and remind them to get down to the tent by the separate entrance early.” Val pressed a small kiss to her temple and rubbed her back comfortingly. “I’ll see you there.”
Val walked away and Samair’s stomach dropped. Brett grinned. “He seems like a good guy. A little older than you, definitely rough and tough beneath the surface. Mom and Dad will hate him.”
Samair shuddered. “Mom and Dad will never meet him, Brett. He’s a lover, that’s all. Not a boyfriend.”
“Uh huh.”
Val found Karl in the bachelor room, schmoozing with the more influential people that had wanted their privacy assured, and were willing to pay handsomely for it.
To him, it was a contradiction that people who were so paranoid about their privacy would come out to a show anyway. Karl had worked his magic, though, assuring them that they would have complete privacy from the rest of the club, with a private show.
The logistics of giving them a separate private fashion show hadn’t been easy to figure out. They’d set up a small changing tent just outside the bachelor room’s separate entrance on the side of the building, and the models had agreed to do a change out there. Then they’d all go back inside and do the show again, for the general occupants of the bar.
“How’s it going in here?” he asked Karl when he found him at the back wall, watching over the crowd.
“Smooth, buddy. Your staff is keeping the drinks flowing, and the catering is a definite hit.”
Val looked over at the tables along the back wall of the room. He’d arranged for buffet-style catering and the two end tables were piled high with hot hors d’oeuvres like poached salmon rounds and crab puffs, along with plates and such. But the middle table was what made it all special.
Centered in the dimly lit area was a long table, the crisp white linen cloth covering it a deep contrast to the dark-skinned body stretched out on top of it.
Sushi, sashimi, tempura-battered veggies, and prawns covered the woman’s bare flesh. Flower petals of various colors and leafy greens were strategically littered over her breasts and belly, while a small porcelain plate with pickled ginger and wasabi waited in the juncture of her thighs, just hiding enough of her hairless pussy to tease.
“For two hundred bucks a head I figured I better come up with something other than free booze for them. Ambrosia Catering promised me that, and I see they delivered.”
Karl slapped him on the back.
“All the tickets were sold, so that’s some solid coin. Between this and what you make at the front door, you’re home free, brother.”
“As much as I hate to anticipate, I think you’re right. Now if we can sell a lot kinky shit, Samair’s new business will be off to a great start, too.”
“How’s she doing?”
Val gave him a look.
“Hey, I like her.” Karl grinned. “She seemed pretty smart, she’s got a rockin’ body, and there’s no arguing with her taste in lingerie.”
“Speaking of which, you got plans later tonight?”
Karl’s eye narrowed. “Not really. Why?”