“What?” she cut him off. “Suspects I’m Cinnamon’s long-lost sister coming to find her? Come on, Ol. Even you have to admit that’s a massive stretch for the guy to make. And this gives us an in. I get hired, work a few nights, cozy up to Roxie and make her think we’re going to be super close friends. And then I can use her to get more information on Rose. Maybe even get proof that she’s been here. Actual proof, not some made-up name on a piece of paper. We get that, then the feds can come do a search of the place. Or at the very least, they could come here and question the employees. Show Rose’s picture around and maybe, just maybe we’ll get the break we need to figure out where she went after leaving here.”
“She could be anywhere for all we know. Hell, she could be?—”
“Don’t.” Scarlett put a finger to his lips. “Please, just…don’t say it. Don’t even think it.”
Because the minute they started to think the worst was the minute they started giving up.
Olly’s lips pressed into a thin line, and it was obvious he was pissed. But he had to see this was the best way. Hehadto.
The man stood and tossed some cash onto the table next to their near-empty glasses. He didn’t respond to her sound argument or give another opinion on the plan. Instead, he reached for her hand, linking their fingers together, and began leading them toward the club’s entrance.
As they passed by the table where Roxie and the man she’d cozied up to were still sitting, the other woman smiled wide and waved. “Good luck tomorrow!”
“Thanks!”
Olly didn’t say a word. Not to Roxie. Not to her. In fact, despite her efforts to the contrary, he didn’t speak at all during the ten minute drive back to their hotel.
Once there, Olly pulled into the nearest open spot and put the car into park. Turning off the car’s ignition, he turned in his seat and faced her.
“You’re not going to that audition tomorrow.”
Scarlett blinked. “Uh…yeah. I am.”
“No. You’re not.”
“Last I checked, I was an adult and I don’t need your permission.”
“My responsibility, remember?” His voice was low and growly. “What I say, when I say it. That was the agreement.”
“That was before I found proof that my sister has been working in that club.”
“You have proof that someone who went by the name Cinnamon worked there. Not that it was Rose.”
“Come on, Olly. It was her, and you know it.”
“The only thing I know for sure is that you’re not dancing tomorrow.” His angry eyes searched hers as if she’d lost her damn mind. “Fuck, Scarlett. Do you even know how to dance? Like that, I mean?”
“You really think I’d set up an audition if I didn’t?”
The car’s interior grew silent as she waited for the lecture to continue. Olly stared back at her, his hardened expression unchanging.
“You know how to strip.” It was a statement, but one that oozed sarcasm.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, jackass.
“I’m a woman of many talents, Oliver.” She purposely used his formal name. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get inside and get some sleep so I’m refreshed and ready to go tomorrow. And if you don’t want to take me to that place for an outfit, just lend me your car, and I’ll drive myself.”
She didn’t wait for a rebuttal before getting out of the car and heading inside. Scarlett wasn’t trying to be rude or uncaring of Olly’s thoughts and feelings on the subject. But anything he threw at her would be futile.
Her mind was made up. She would be at that audition tomorrow. Even if she had to call one of those ride-sharing services to take her.
9
Olly pacedthe length of his hotel room, doing his best to bring his anger toward Scarlett under control. The woman was crazy if she thought he was going to let her go through with that fucking audition.
Damn it, she had promised to do follow his instructions to the letter. And he’d made himself pretty damn clear in regard to the subject. Not that she wanted to listen.
But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her put herself in danger like that. End of fucking story.