The second Anika had left, my stomach eased.
Nas sighed. “Come on.” She took me by the shoulders and shook me once. “You can do this. I know you can. I told Lev I had you. Don’t make a liar out of me, short stuff.”
Nas’ pep talks were mildly threatening, but they did the job. Tilting my head from side-to-side, I cricked my neck. “I got this.”
“You got this,” she repeated.
“I’m gonna make this horse my bitch,” I grumbled.
She grinned. “Fuck yes, you are.” She pushed me along, slapping my ass in encouragement. “Get out there and serve drinks, and don’t freaking drop anything.” I glowered at her. Using her fingers, she drew a big smile onto her face. “Service with a smile!”
I looked around and when I was sure no one was watching, I flipped her the bird.
She laughed and I felt eyes on me. Turning toward the far end of the club, by the stage, I found Lev looking right at me, unblinking. And his eyes…they were full of mirth.
He’d seen what I’d done. I was caught.
My face heated. I could hardly ignore him. He’d seen me look right at him. I lifted my hand in a two finger wave. He jerked his chin in response. I smiled and mouthed, “Sorry.” I wasn’t sure, but it looked like he mouthed back, “Get to work.”
I settled behind the bar, took orders, and served drinks. I did this without further incident, and over the course of the next hour, made a hundred dollars in tips.
A man named Jeremiah came to take over for me while I took a fifteen-minute break. He wasn’t as tall as the other men who worked here, but he definitely made up for it with his good looks. He had longish brown hair, slicked back, a beard, and tattoos running up his arms. He wore tight black jeans, a tight black tee, and had an easy smile. I took the hand he extended and was surprised when he lifted it to his mouth to press a kiss on my knuckles.
It seemed to happen a lot around here. My reaction was the same as when Tommy had done it. I giggled and covered my flaming cheeks with a hand. Jeremiah sent me off for my break, but I was intercepted. Lev stood in front of me, but his eyes were trained on Jeremiah. And he looked angry.
No. Not angry.
Pissed. With a capital P.
“Hey,” I called over the music, tugging on his sleeve.
When he looked down at me, his face softened dramatically. He leaned down and stated, “Jeremiah sleeps around.”
“Oh,” I uttered, unsure of why I needed to know this.
Lev nodded, a piece of his hair coming loose and draping itself down across his forehead. “He likes to flirt.”
Reaching up, I pulled on his jacket until his face was low enough for me to fix his hair. I checked him over, fixing his bent lapel then smoothing his vest before pulling his jacket closed. “Is that your way of warning me about unsavory men?” I looked back at Jeremiah. “He’s quite handsome though, isn’t he?”
Lev spoke through gritted teeth. “I didn’t realize he was your type.”
He moved to walk away, but I stopped him by grasping his wrist. My brow furrowed at his arctic tone. “I don’t really have a type, Lev. I haven’t had a man show interest in me since I was sixteen-years-old.” I shrugged. “It’s a nice feeling, to be wanted.” I reached out with my free hand and touched his forearm, above the wrist I was gripping. “But thank you for warning me. Consider me cautioned.”
His golden eyes roamed my face, relaxing immensely. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
My body warmed tenderly. God, he was sweet. I grinned. “Then we have a common interest.”
He took the hand at his forearm and squeezed it. “Men are dogs. They’ll say and do anything to get a woman to sleep with them.”
I couldn’t see him being one of those men. I uttered quietly, “But not you. Right?”
His eyes closed and he shut them tight as he nodded. Releasing my hand, he urged, “Be careful, Mina. Your innocence is more appealing than you know.”
And then he was gone.
Doom and gloom, I thought. Then a small smile tilted my lips.
How very Lev.
Chapter Thirteen
Mina
It was Friday, and I’d officially been employed by Bleeding Hearts a week and a half. You couldn’t get the smile off my dial even if you tried. Over the past five days, I’d met every single employee, taking the time to find out a little about them without giving away too much about myself. When asked where I hailed from, I told the majority of the dancing girls that I moved around a lot as a kid, unknowingly earning myself the nickname Gypsy.
I understood that strippers didn’t have the best reputations, but the girls I met were lovely. All but one, of course.