Themed nights at Penthouse have become my favorite. Each month, the event coordinator discusses plans and weekly budgets with Gavin, and from there, she transforms Thursday nights into splendors fit for Las Vegas shows. This time, it’s Into the Cosmos, and the club dazzles as the countless chandeliers glisten and twinkle like stars in an infinite universe. Giant screens flash images of outer space while strobe lights bounce to the music, and servers walk around with jet packs.
But what I love most is my galactic makeup, as if I was kissed by start dust.
The platform I was assigned is near the DJ stage, and every thump of base rattles in my chest. So far, my favorite spot is the VIP section, but Bianca is there tonight, and men stare like they’re imagining her naked. I think she likes it, though. She teases them with sexy hair tosses as she rolls her hips and winks at them over her shoulder.
They eat it right up.
Enzo, the older gentleman I met a few weeks ago, is up there. He’s with his colleagues again, and they chat in a booth near the balcony, sending puffs of cigar smoke over the edge. The club is packed, forcing guests to dance tightly together and their body heat to rise like mist over an ocean. Yet, despite the sea of faces, my gaze keeps wandering to Enzo’s.
Last week, he slipped me money again. I was dancing and suddenly felt his hand in mine. He nodded and smiled as the words Tiny Dancer curled off his tongue before retreating to the VIP section. Something about it made my stomach flutter. Perhaps it’s his blue eyes. I’ve always been a sucker for the hue.
My attention floats to him again, and he does his usual nod but doesn’t look away. Instead, he inches forward and rests his forearms on the balcony railing, his expensive watch glinting under the flashing lights.
Taking a lesson from Bianca, I put on a show for him, and bounce into an Assamblé but exaggerate it by kicking my leg past my head. Enzo straightens his posture, his eyes narrowing in curiosity, a smile sneaking across his lips as I bring my leg back down and spin around the pole on my platform. However, when I glance at him again, he’s gone.
Furrowing my brows, I search the crowd of the VIP section, but his salt and pepper sideburns are nowhere to be found. Perhaps it was time for him to leave? Sighing, I close my eyes to refocus. Besides, why do I care where he went? We’ve exchanged twenty words, and he’s at least fifteen years older than me.
My eyelids fly open when someone brushes my fingers.
“Did I scare you?” Enzo laughs.
“Yes.”
“What was that move you did?”
“It was an Assamblé.”
“Ballet?”
“Ballerina.” I point to my chest, and his smile stretches.
“Tiny dancer...”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
“You remind me of those elegant little ballerinas that dance to music when you open a jewelry box.”
“I actually have one of those at home.”
“Do you perform with a company?”
“No.” I drop my gaze to our feet. “I was let go recently due to budget cuts.”
“That’s too bad. I’d pay big money to watch you glide across a stage.”
“You already watch me dance on a stage.”
Enzo leans in, the scent of sweet mint and cognac escaping with his words, “But this isn’t your true element. I want to see you come alive like you did with that Assamblé.”
YOU ARE READING
Sugar Daddy Season (ONC 2024)
Romance𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 | 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 When Mara Santiago is laid off from work and dumped by her boyfriend, she moves in with her parents. Struggling to find another job as a ballerina, she begins go-go dan...
