Angry, annoyed eyes followed the movement. A beat later, Olly’s entire body stiffened, and those same eyes flew back up to hers.
“Oh, yeah,” an oblivious Roxie continued chatting from behind Scarlett. “They’re pretty good about that. I mean, our House Mom just quit, which sucks because she was great. But Vic, that’s our manager, said they’re working diligently to find her replacement.”
House Mom was the title some clubs gave to the woman who oversaw the dancers. They took care of the schedule, the collection and calculation of tips, making sure the girls obeyed the club’s rules…
Cinnamon doesn’t work here anymore.
That’s what the man from the hallway had told her. A man Scarlett now suspected was the same man she’d just spoken to.
“Vic,” she repeated the name. “Tall, broad shoulders, short brown hair…wears a black suit…”
“That’s him.” Roxie nodded. “Victor Manning. He manages the place.”
“I just spoke to him. He’s the one who set up the audition. But I’m curious…why did your House Mom quit?”
She was trying not to press too much while at the same time gleaning as much information as she could.
But Roxie just shrugged her bare shoulders and flung a chunk of her long hair back from her face. “No idea. One day she was here, and the next…she was gone.”
Sounds familiar.
“How long has it been since she left?” Scarlett continued the inquiry. When Olly shot her a look that screamed tread carefully,she added a quick, “I only ask because I didn’t know if maybe this wasn’t the best time to audition.”
“Oh, no. Don’t let that stop you.” The other woman simply shook her head with a smile. “It’s only been a couple of days, and Vic’s been filling in with Cinnamon’s duties. Plus girls are always coming and going out of places like this, so it’s really not all that surprising.”
“Business as usual, huh?” She forced a smile of her own.
“Exactly.” Something flashed behind her brown eyes, but it vanished almost instantly. “I mean, the show must go on, right?” Roxie’s chuckle sounded less than genuine. “Well, I’ll let you two get out of here so you can rest up for tomorrow. Oh, and if you’re looking for something to wear for tomorrow, you’re going to want to shop at Express Yourself. It’s on the western edge of Durango. It’s where we all go. And they’ll give you a discount if you tell them you’re buying the stuff to dance for Vic. The building’s bright pink and Express is spelled with three Xs. Big sign. You can’t miss it.”
“Awesome.” Scarlett sounded far more excited than she actually was. “Thanks for the tip.”
“No problem. Hopefully we’ll be working together soon!” Roxie crossed her fingers before turning and walking away.
As Scarlett stood there, watching the other woman approach a man sitting alone, she couldn’t help but wonder what it was she’d seen hiding behind Roxie’s dulled gaze. Fear, perhaps? Or had the other woman been trying to relay some kind of silent warning?
Or maybe, just maybe, you’re looking for something that isn’t even there.
Her inner voice was probably right. Or not. Either way, there was only one direction this plan of hers could go. And it started with tomorrow’s audition.
She turned to Olly who was still sitting down. “You ready?”
The man’s cold expression could have been chiseled out of stone. “Sit down.”
Yes, Sir.
With a sigh, Scarlett sat back in her seat. The scent of Roxie’s strong perfume still lingered in the air around her. “Okay, look. I know what you’re going to say, but that flyer says Cinnamon, and the guy Brooke talked to at the hospital said?—”
“Are you out of your fucking mind? What the hell were you thinking?”
Yep. That was pretty much the reaction she’d expected.
“I was thinking I’d bring that”—she pointed to the flyer—“to you so we could come up with a plan to find her. But then I ran into that Vic guy…literally. He saw the flyer in my hand, so I pretended to be interested in auditioning. I asked for Cinnamon…since that’s what it says to do…but that’s when he told me she didn’t work here anymore.”
“You should have walked away.”
“I did.”
“Beforeyou agreed to dance for the asshole.” Olly ran a frustrated hand over his clenched jaw. “Jesus, Scarlett. What if he?—”