Steele glared at him. “Then find her!”
Spike sighed. “I know where she is.” Question was, did he want to go after her?
Fuck it.
If it was her then he obviously needed to give her a harsher warning about staying away from him. He strode out of the room, coming to a stop as he realized Steele was moving with him. “Stay here.”
“But this woman did come here asking for me. I feel rude just turning her away.”
“Didn’t bother you two minutes ago,” Spike pointed out with a scowl.
“Ah, but that was before I knew that you knew her. You never get involved with women.”
“Not fucking involved with her.”
Steele just gave him an amused look. Fuck him anyway.
* * *
“Oh look at the pretty puppy!”
Millie smiled as she watched Chardonnay cuddle Mr. Fluffy. Mr. Fluffy sent a look back to Millie as though asking her why she was letting some other woman accost him. But she figured Mr. Fluffy was her way in. She’d been watching Chardonnay up on the dance floor while she’d been waiting for that nice man to find Mr. Steele.
Hm. Actually, she probably shouldn’t have wandered off the way she had. She really should go back and find out if Mr. Steele would see her.
She’d just had to come back and tell Chardonnay how talented she was.
“I wish I had your talent for dancing,” she told Chardonnay as she took back Mr. Fluffy before he suffocated against the other woman’s impressive cleavage. “The way you twisted and turned. I’d have found myself flat on my back, probably with a twisted ankle.”
Chardonnay gave her a look that was equal parts amused and cynical. “It just takes a bit of practice. And yoga. Lots of yoga.”
“Back in my hometown, one of the residents started up a yoga class. Only Mrs. Larsen slipped and broke her hip and we decided it probably wasn’t a good idea to keep continuing on.”
“That’s too bad. If you ever want me to show you some moves, you can come in here while I’m practicing.”
“I can?”
Chardonnay smiled at her. “Sure.”
Another girl walked through the changing room, completely naked. Chardonnay had pulled on a robe as soon as she’d left the stage. But the dark-skinned, beautiful girl who took a seat in front of a mirror to adjust her make-up didn’t seem to care.
Millie sighed.
“What you staring at?” the other woman snapped. “Who’s she, Chardonnay?”
“Chill, Tawny. She just came back here to tell me how good I was on stage.”
“You’re not supposed to have clients back here,” Tawny told her.
“Relax. Not like she’s some old perv come to gawk at you.”
“I don’t know, she seems to be doing plenty of gawking,” Tawny said slyly. “Like what you see?” She wrapped a gown around her body.
Millie felt her face grow red. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. It’s just that you’re beautiful and I was wishing I had hair like yours and eyes like yours and that body . . . I’m so sorry.”
She stood, feeling flustered and like a complete moron. Just a country bumpkin making an idiot of herself. Spike was right. She didn’t belong here.
Problem was, she didn’t belong anywhere. Not back home. Much as the people cared about her, there wasn’t much there for her. Not here, where she knew no one.