No need to glance at the caller ID. “Hello, Lanie.”
“Hey, baby doll. You ready to know what we have planned for tonight?” Elleane’s voice held a hint of suppressed excitement.
“All right, hit me.” Haven sat back and smiled.
“We’re taking you to a carnival.”
Her smile wavered. “Uh, Lanie, aren’t we a little old for carnivals?” She didn’t want to be a downer, but the idea of spending an evening dodging twelve-year-olds holding mustard-laden corndogs was a terrible one.
Laughing, Elleane said, “Haven, this carnival isn’t for kids.”
Interesting. “What do you mean?”
“Well, ‘Carlenna’sCarnal-Val’ is for adultsonly.” She paused and whistled. “I’m assuming from the pictures I'm lookin’ at that a lot of the games and attractions are…uh…X-rated.” Haven heard Elleane lick her lips. “It sounds like just the thing you need to blow off five years of steam.”
Furrowing her brow, Haven sat back, her mind conjuring images of clowns in full make up…but completely nude.
She cringed.
Elleane, probably sensing Haven’s confusion and hesitation, added, “Let’s go be adults. Let’s drink, drool over hot guys, and wallow in the filthy gutters of our minds,” she pleaded.
Haven rolled her eyes, but smiled. “All right, Lanie, I’ll give it a try.”
“Yay! Okay, we’ll meet you at the fairgrounds around four.”
“Sounds good. In the meantime, I'm gonna veg on the couch and drool over Jensen Ackles for a couple hours. I love his dreamy eyes, his deep voice, and those oh-so-kissable lips. My goodness, that man gets me all worked up.” She wiggled in her seat.
Elleane groaned into the receiver. “I don’t blame you, sweetheart. I’d be all over him given half a chance.”
Haven grinned. “Lanie, you’d be all over him given one-sixteenth of a chance.”
“You’re damn right about that. My God, any woman with a pair of eyes would be all over him.” Elleane laughed. “See you at four. Sharp.”
Haven hit the end button on her cell and reached for the TV remote.
Chapter Two
When the credits of her thirdSupernaturalepisode scrolled on the screen, Haven glanced at the digital clock on her entertainment center. Two o’clock had rolled around quickly. While genies, wendigos, and fallen angels made good TV, she had to get moving or she’d be late.
She pursed her lips into a grim line and rubbed at the sudden
goosebumps prowling uninvited up her arms. She wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but she couldn’t shake the unease crawling over her.
After rising from the couch, she grabbed her gym bag from its station beside the hall closet door. She threw the large bag on the bed and peered inside. Her portable speaker, bag of toiletries, workout clothes, and gym pass were all there. Thinking ahead, she gathered a change of clothes to wear to the carnival.
Ugh…am I really going to some gimmicky “adult” carnival?
Rolling her eyes, she sighed. No matter what, she owed it to herself to get out, have fun, and let loose a little. If it turned out that the carnival was a bust, she could just hold it over Elleane’s head; make her do something she typically refused to do…like watch a horror movie. That girl loved a good rom-com, but evensuggest something with a drop of blood, she turned a hideous green color. Like chartreuse.
Haven arrived at the gym in time to change into her tiny shorts and tank—for ease of movement, of course—and snag the small private room with a single floor-to-ceiling pole surrounded by scuffed hardwood flooring. She loved this gym. It specialized in dance fitness and offered several private rooms for people who liked pole dancing. While she regularly exercised using one, she never used one while actually on the job. She preferred using the whole stage in her acts, and the money that flew at her during her performances proved she didn’t need a pole to get paid.
Placing her bag on the floor, she pulled out her cell and portable speakers. With a little over an hour to work out, get washed and dressed, and get to the fairgrounds, her workout had to be short.
Once she connected her cell to the portable speakers, she pressed the random play button. When the hypnotic sounds of “Shake” by Morris Day and The Time erupted, she grabbed the pole. As the music picked up pace, she let her mind drift back to the first time she danced at the club.
Smirking at the memory, she couldn’t believe she survived her first show. Morris Day’s voice pulled her, and the exercise kicked her blood into gear as the memory took shape in her mind.
She recalled with crystal clarity the moment she mounted the steps to the glossy black stage, taking her position in the dark. For her debut, she’d chosen a song that stirred something carnal within her, making her feel dirty—and like it.
