Shine On Page 2

  I rubbed under my nose to stop it from dripping in case I started to choke up. “I like Posey. Maybe because I knew her in high school? Even though she was one of the popular girls, she was always nice to me.”

  “That might be it.” Mom rubbed my ear, something she used to do to calm me when I was a kid. “I’ve been worried because you haven’t dated or seemed interested in anyone since your father died.”

  “School and work are more important than dating. And now that I’m going for my masters, I don’t know if I have time for Posey.” School and work weren’t the real reasons for my hermit-like dating status. I had more than my fair share of offers, and not just from women. I could have my pick of most of the Diamond girls, since a good majority were lesbian. Sad as it sounded, I still suffered from a broken heart. I refused to tell Mom because I didn’t want her to think I was pathetic.

  “You know what they say about all work and no play.” She wagged her finger and gave me a stern look.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say her words back at her, but Dad had been her soul mate and the love of her life. There was no way she would date again. And I really didn’t want to think about her dating anyone or having sex.

  I must have winced or something close to it because the minimal lines in Mom’s forehead grew more pronounced. She began to speak, but the phone ringing on her desk interrupted us.

  She answered the phone while I settled in my chair. I wet my parched mouth with my juice and booted up my laptop. Mom spoke softly into the phone to Kenji who she mentioned by name. The grooves in her forehead deepened, and her eyes widened as she murmured a yes, and said she would go out to the front.

  A bemused expression appeared on her face as she hung up the phone.

  “What’s wrong with Kenji?” He didn’t call Mom unless it was something big. “Some drunk guy got naked and started dancing on the bar like last Saturday?”

  “Nothing like that. There’s someone he wants me to see.” She grabbed the walkie-talkie she used when walking the floor, and went to the door.

  “A vendor or some girl wanting to audition for a job?” I asked, not really finding it strange she would meet with vendors wanting business or chicks applying for dancing jobs.

  “More like a blast from the past,” she said more to herself than to me, and left the office.

  I landed back in my chair, eyeing the closed door, confused. Had I heard her right? Blast from the past?

  CHAPTER TWO

  It wasn’t until she snapped her fingers in front of my face that I noticed Mom’s return.

  I glanced away from the screen and turned down the song playing on some Internet radio station to give her my full attention. “What’s up?”

  She didn’t usually hover, but she did near my desk, flicking her French-manicured nail on her diamond engagement ring. Her nervousness rubbed off on me.

  “You’re needed out front,” she said, now twisting both her rings on her fingers.

  “Did an order come in you want me to record?”

  “It’s not work related. We have a VIP guest who has asked for you to keep them company in the high roller suite. They’re paying one thousand dollars for your time.”

  I rocked back in my chair, eying Mom. Was she joking? Sometimes she and Kenji played pranks on me. But this didn’t feel like a prank.

  “Ha-ha, you’re funny.” I set my fingers on the keyboard to start typing again. The high roller suite was the most expensive private room. The minimum price for an hour was seven hundred dollars. No way someone was going to pay three hundred more for the pleasure of my company.

  “Jade, dear, I’m not joking. This guest has asked for you by name and is more than willing to pay an obscene amount of money for an hour of your time.” She set her palms on my desk as she bent toward me. “They can afford it, trust me.”

  I trusted Mom with my life, but this situation was just too weird. “Why me? Who is it?”

  “Someone special who wants to talk to you alone.” She straightened and relaxed her hands at her sides. “I think it would be good for you to see them.”

  Mom failing to use a gender when talking about this special person made the back of my neck tingle. I had an idea who it may be, only because they would do something this outlandish to get my attention.

  “I know the person, right? What does she expect me to do for the thousand dollars?” I rose from my seat and held out my arms. “And why would you go along with this craziness?”

  “She’s paying a thousand to the house and has offered to donate ten thousand to the Heart 2 Heart Foundation,” Mom revealed in a softer tone.

  Now it made sense. Mom had started volunteering at the foundation after Dad died. “Why didn’t you tell me about the donation up front? It changes everything.” I still didn’t understand why she would go to such lengths to book one of the private rooms, knowing the paparazzi or entertainment tabloids might find out. But Ivy Falls, rock singer and songwriter, was a media darling and sold as many magazines as she did albums. There were other ways to get my attention, but I hadn’t spoken to her since the night of Dad’s funeral when I made the biggest mistake of my life, ending our friendship.

  “I guess I should have. I’m just shocked by the offer and the request.” Mom still refused to say Ivy’s name.

  “Did Ivy bring Billie along?” I closed my laptop and grabbed my bag in case I became too emotional and had to jet out of there.

  “No. It’s just her.” She shifted back to give me room as I came around the desk. Her intuition was great; she knew not to invade my space.

  She left the door open, denying me the opportunity to open it and slam it into the wall like I wanted to. But it would have been very childish. It was bad enough I stomped my feet as I walked and clenched my hands at my sides. I paused in the doorway to take some calming breaths. Mom trailed behind me.

  “I’m not going to run and hide.” I gave her a stiff smile. “I’m a big girl and can handle a spoiled celebrity. You don’t have to worry about me pissing off Ivy so she’ll end up bad mouthing Lovely Diamonds.”

  “Ivy has more to worry about. The media would have a field day knowing she visited a strip joint.”

  I winced at her defensive tone. Lovely Diamonds was more than just a strip joint, even with the semi-naked girls and risqué dancing. It had been an important part of the community for decades. Knowing the media could twist things and make this place Mom loved into something dirty angered me. Knowing Ivy might play a part in it caused my blood to boil.

  “Poor Ivy.” I lifted my hand and rubbed two fingers together. “I’m playing the smallest violin for her. She should have thought about the consequences before coming here.”

  “Maybe she did.” Mom shrugged, again relaxed and poised, unlike me. I felt like a million bugs ran up and down my back. An annoying buzzing lodged in my ears, and my heart rattled in my chest.

  “You know more than you’re letting on,” I accused.

  “Go see Ivy, and then we’ll talk.” Mom shooed me away.

  The woman before me had taught me to face conflict and not run from it. If I did run, I wouldn’t get far. When Ivy was set on something, she kept on top of it, refusing to back down.

  Just like she’d walked out of my life five years ago without a care, she came storming back in the same way.

  ***

  The music from the main floor reverberated as I walked up to the second level. Because things happened behind closed doors here, it wasn’t as crowded or loud like the main level. The only visible people were the girls who served, and bouncers or security standing guard at the doors. The rooms with private groups always had one or two bouncers inside. One-on-one parties didn’t need observation unless the girls requested it.

  In the thirty years Lovely Diamonds had been in business, there had never been an altercation between a girl and a customer. But that might change when I saw Ivy face-to-face.

  I had seen Ivy’s face on more than one occasion after she walk
ed out of my life because she was such a big star. I couldn’t help but spot her on television and on the Internet. She, along with Billie Layne, another mega star diva, had taken over the music world. Billie had arrived on the scene at eighteen, a year before Ivy. Ivy didn’t finish her senior year of high school because her chance at stardom had paid off. She did get her GED, but it was more of an afterthought since she became a millionaire before she turned twenty-one.

  I froze in the semi-darkness of the hallway, a few feet away from the door to the suite. I guess I was woozy, but it wasn’t because of the remains of my hangover or lack of sleep. I always had a visceral response to Ivy. It started when I was twelve and I spent the night with her, in her bed, holding her while she cried. She had been my best friend then. Our connection ran deep, or I so thought when she sought me for comfort the days after she lost her father five years before I lost mine. But not from disease. Ivy’s dad committed suicide by shooting himself in the bathroom.

  I hugged the wall, overcome with memories. It had been so long since I thought of that horrible time, even though it had brought us closer together. For a few short years, we were inseparable. But then her singing career skyrocketed, and she left me for much better things, only to return when I lost my dad. My insecurity ended up destroying everything between us.

  A flash of light from below brightened the hallway. No one stood guard at the door to the suite where Ivy waited. She probably requested it that way. What were the odds we would wreck the room or physically hurt one another? Ivy had already damaged my heart. There wasn’t much more she could do to scar me.

  I hurried to the door to get our reunion over with. An hour with Ivy wouldn’t be too much of a strain. It gave me some satisfaction she would be eleven grand lighter because of it. Grabbing the doorknob, I twisted it and opened the door.

  The high roller suite wasn’t the largest room at Diamonds, but the classiest. No zebra prints or dark-red walls with mirrors on the ceiling. It featured leather furniture and a side bar stocked with top-shelf liquor. A small refrigerator held other beverages and an array of snacks. Also included was a large flat screen television near a queen-sized platform bed made up with black satin sheets and pillows.

  Ivy Falls jumped from the loveseat to her feet when I entered the room, and I calmly shut the door. She stepped toward me with her hand raised, but then stopped when I didn’t embrace her like one of her adoring fans.

  “Hello, Valerie. You’re looking well,” I used her real name.

  The corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. “No one has called me Valerie in such a long time. Not even Mom does. I changed it legally last year.”

  A boring name for a woman like Ivy. We were each named for our grandmothers, but a name like Valerie didn’t fit Ivy’s image. Falls wasn’t her true last name, either. It was Fallows.

  Ivy wore her dark hair piled on top of her head like mine. Her outfit screamed rock chick with skin-tight jeans and faded sleeveless T-shirt, emblazoned with some forgotten band name, knotted under her chest to bare her midriff. She’d added more tattoos to the one on her inner left wrist; the Chinese symbols for father and daughter inked when she was sixteen. A black acoustic guitar trailed along her right bicep. I also spied a musical note on either hip, above the low rise of her jeans.

  “Satisfied with looking your fill?” she drawled.

  My cheeks heated. “Aren’t you afraid those tattoos on your hips will become distorted if you gain weight?” My question might offend someone else, but Ivy never had weight problem. She’d always been perfect in all the right areas. No flabby gut for Ivy Falls.

  I rubbed my stomach, a small pooch I couldn’t get rid of without surgery or major abs exercises. But from the hungry way Ivy scrutinized my face then my chest, her gaze sliding down my torso, she found no fault with me, either. My self-confidence rose.

  Ivy snorted and rocked back and forth on her heels—shod in studded leather ankle boots that must have cost her a pretty penny. I wondered if she still had the purple Converse sneakers she used to wear almost every day no matter the season.

  “Concerned for my health, Jade Rosina? How sweet.” Her drawl ventured to near purring.

  I gritted my teeth, refusing to react to her mention of my middle name. “What do you want? I guess I should be flattered you’d not only pay a thousand dollars to see me but put your reputation at sake by entering a shady strip club.” I sat back on the wall near the door.

  “Try eleven thousand dollars, which is a drop in the bucket for me. Next week, I’m signing a huge deal that would let me buy this place from your mom if I wanted to.” She rubbed her palms together and sent me a beaming smile. “The press doesn’t have any idea I’m in Vegas. Even if they did find out I visited some ‘strip club,’ Lovely Diamonds is so much more than just naked girls dancing. I’d just brush it off like other stories about me in the tabloids.”

  The tabloids had been kind to Ivy since she hit the scene, even though she had been honest about being gay, never hiding her relationship with Billie. I wouldn’t allow thoughts of Billie to invade my head. I had to remain cool and composed so I didn’t give her the pleasure of seeing how she still affected me.

  “How do you know so much about Lovely Diamonds? You left Vegas before you were legal to enter.” I didn’t try to stop the defensiveness in my voice. She really thought she could waltz back into my life I wouldn’t care?

  “I’ve been back home since I left. Two years ago, I tried convincing Mom to sell the house.” She twisted the ends of her hair. “She wouldn’t.”

  Once Ivy moved to Los Angeles after our junior year of high school, I lost touch with her mom. Every so often, Mom would see Mrs. Fallows, who still worked as the general manager at the Deus casino after almost twenty years. Ivy’s father had been a cop. He’d used his service revolver to end his life. I was surprised her mother still lived in the house where her husband had killed himself. I wouldn’t have spent another night there.

  “Every time my mom mentions she might sell ours, Kenji and Luka get upset. Did you know Dad had it built for her as a wedding present?” I relaxed against the wall, wishing I was by the pool in the backyard. Ivy had spent many days and nights at our home, as well, especially after her father’s death.

  Lost in my reminiscing, I didn’t notice Ivy moving close enough to touch me. I grabbed for the doorknob.

  She arched an eyebrow. “Nervous around me?”

  “I’m not.” I tapped my hip. “I just don’t understand the reason for this meet and greet.”

  She arched her other eyebrow. “Meet and greet? You’re a fan I agreed to see for a promotional opportunity—”

  “I’m not a fan of yours! I’m nothing to you.” I had to stop losing my cool if I was going to get through this.

  She compressed her lips and scratched her wrist tattoo. “You’re something to me.”

  I coughed out a laugh. “Isn’t ‘Something to Me’ the title of one of your songs?”

  “It’s on my debut album.” Her eyes lit up. “So, you listen to my music.”

  “Oh please. Don’t act shocked,” I scoffed and shook my head at her for fishing for a compliment or recognition of her fame. “The radio stations play you on heavy rotation. You’re a Vegas hometown girl who did well for herself. I won’t be surprised if the mayor gives you the key to the city or has a parade in your honor because you decided to grace us with your presence.”

  “I’m not just visiting this time. I’m staying. The deal I mentioned a few minutes ago? Starting in March, I’m headlining at the Deus for eight months. I have my own residency, baby.”

  I thumped back into the wall, stunned. Her biggest dream had always been to headline a concert at one of the casinos. Everything she ever wanted had happened.

  “How much are you getting? Ten or twenty million?” I wanted to glare at her in disgust, but, every time I looked at her, it hurt.

  The proud light in her eyes lessened, and a sheepish smile lifted the corner of her lips
. “Something in that range, but the money isn’t important.”

  “Sure it’s not.” I rolled my eyes. “Want to pay my rent?”

  Ivy took another step toward me. I kept my gaze on her throat as she swallowed. I swore I also felt her breath on my forehead as her face came toward mine. “If I bought you a house, would you be my friend again?”

  “You ended our friendship.” Inhaling through my nose was a big mistake. She still wore plumeria. I gave her the first bottle of body mist for her thirteenth birthday.

  “I didn’t end anything.” Her soft exhale brushed the top of my head.

  I shifted to the left fast, scraping my back on the wall as I did to give me more space. I wouldn’t put it past her to try and hug me, or maybe even kiss me. The last time we kissed—or rather I kissed her—she snubbed me in a very vocal way.

  “Scaredy-cat.” She took my place at the wall, blocking my escape.

  My hands started to tremble, and I jabbed my fingers in my palms. “If you didn’t end us, then why did you stop talking to me after the night of my father’s funeral?”

  Her shoulders slumped, and her bravado disappeared. “I didn’t mean to stop talking to you. It just happened, and then—”

  “You rejected me after I threw myself at you.” My voice cracked as I shouted. Ivy dipped her head to her chest, and sighed, deflated. “Why? I wasn’t good enough for you because you hit it big?” I invaded her space this time, jabbing my finger in her face to annoy her. “Because I wasn’t Billie Layne, the woman of your dreams?”

  Fire returned to her eyes. She lifted her hands then dropped them again. If she thought she could touch me, she would be in for a very big surprise. She’d lost any and all rights to my body the night she rejected me.

  “I never meant to push you away or say the things I said the night of your father’s funeral. You shocked the ever loving shit out of me.” She exhaled a loud breath. “I was so confused. I was up at all hours working, and stressed out about my album releasing, and then excited about my first—”