He kissed my hand. “You’re more beautiful by the hour, but it’s like a solar eclipse. It’s over before I know it. I need to preserve some part of you, exactly as you are now.”
“Wait, so were you nude while he painted you?” Kiara asks.
“Um, a little bit?”
“Holy shit.”
I smile, feeling my cheeks burn. Not that Adriano’s art is embarrassing—it’s beautiful—but the sight of myself in oils was so surreal and romantic that the memories are tender.
“Rossi is such a weird dude,” Kiara mutters. “Still, I’d kill for him to give me a leg tat. Does he ever tattoo you? Do you have any?”
I sigh. “No. None of the guys want me to have tattoos.”
Kiara’s forehead crinkles. “Fuck them.”
“I know,” I say with a smile. “I’m working on it but they’re not the kind of men who compromise easily.”
She snorts. “You can say that again. Does Morelli have tattoos?”
“Yeah. Latin on his ribs and a bear on his thigh.” It wasn’t easy to tell Eli had tattoos because he refused to get fully naked with me for so long and when he did, I was usually distracted but once I saw them, I realized they were the same art style as Bobby and Doc’s—a gift from Adriano.
Kiara nods approvingly. “Is it hot?”
“Super-hot.”
“I get that. I don’t do dudes, but if he had long hair and tits, I’d think about it.”
I laugh. “I’ll pass the compliment along. Not that Eli needs more people telling him how good-looking he is.”
“He’s got your other boyfriends to keep him humble. What’s Eli planning for your birthday? The Hope diamond? A crocodile skin car? Two tickets to Mars?”
I chew my lower lip. “I don’t know. Hopefully not something too nuts.”
Kiara laughs. All the girls know Eli spends crazy money on me. I’m still not used to it. Designer bags, ruby hairpins, all-day spa trips, and expensive pots and pans for me to cook with. A thought seems to cross his mind and he buys it for me. He bought me a pink Corvette a few months ago and filled the back seat with pink roses. No matter how much the other guys tease him he will not stop spending on me or will he let me return any of the gifts and give the money to charity. He just gives money to charity as well as giving me gifts, so I feel twice as guilty.
“He told me to pack an overnight bag,” I say helplessly. “Maybe he’ll just calm down and take me to LA for a nice dinner.”
“Yeah…maybe.” Kiara grins. “Doc’s gonna get you a gold-plated butt plug and make you wear it while he fucks you on the Brooklyn Bridge.”
I stop laughing and press a hand to my burning cheek. It’s weird because all the girls at Dreams know Doc quite well. He’s the owner and he used to spend a lot of time on-site. I thought that meant he’d slept with most of the dancers before I arrived, but he hasn’t. According to Kiara he mostly used to get drunk in his office and play trance music and do science things that would sometimes set of the club sprinkler system. Since we got together Doc’s handed over management of all his clubs to Betty and it’s way more efficient that way. Betty is great at working with the girls, getting them hyped before a shift and reassuring them if they have a slow night or need to make a complaint. From what I’ve seen managing a club is mostly about handling people’s emotions and nothing about Doc says he’s ever been good at that.
“I don’t know what Doc and I are doing for my birthday,” I say gnawing a thumbnail. “I hope we’ll just get burgers or something. No presents.”
“You don’t want a present from Doc?”
“I mean I do, but I don’t. Thinking of what to give me tends to, like, make Doc’s brain explode so he does way too much to overcompensate. Like, one time I said I wanted to make Claude van Heusen’s secret strawberry skin macaroons and Doc called his company in Paris and threatened to kill all of them until they gave him the recipe.”
Kiara snorts. “Everything about that checks out. Well, good luck with your psychotic boyfriends, Whitehall. Better you than me.”
“Evening ladies.”
Another man has approached the bar. He’s more sober than the last one and his eyes have a mean sparkle that reminds me of my ex-fiancé, Mr. Parker.
“Hi,” I say, giving my biggest brightest smile. “What can I get you?”
He ignores the question, taking a step back as though to bring us both into focus. “You ladies are far too pretty to be standing here on your own.”
I give the bright little giggle every girl at Dreams has down to a T. “Can I get you a drink?”
