On the Sly: Chapter 13
Ellie
I nearly lost my balance. Andrew smiled at me and gestured for me to carry on. He sat on a comfortable leather sofa, looking relaxed. His eyes hovered over my body, stopping at my legs, then my thighs, as my heartbeat accelerated. Fury overwhelmed me, riding through me like a storm, weakening my knees.
It took me only a few seconds to notice that he didn’t recognise me. I had dyed my hair since he last saw me and I was wearing a mask. He never paid attention to small details. He was too self-absorbed to recognise the small dimple on my shoulder that he used to like kissing during sex.
I remembered that I had to breathe, and if I wanted to carry on working in the club, I needed to calm down. My hands were shaking when I gripped the pole. I reminded myself that he came here for entertainment, and as far as I knew I was just another girl.
My heart was thumping in my chest, pumping adrenaline into my veins.
He was here, but why?
The media had lynched me, made out that I was a poisonous flower that destroyed his perfectly loving family, whereas Andrew’s reputation hadn’t been affected. A few papers mentioned him, but it was always with reference to my name. I forced my body to spin around the pole, pushing my muscles to work in time to the rhythm of the music. He never loved me, but he used those three words like a weapon to manipulate me so he could get what he wanted. He’d taken part of my soul and ripped it to pieces and then set it on fire publicly.
Andrew was very good looking. Tall, slim, always well dressed, with that cute dark hair and strong jaw. Here in the strip club, he wore a blue suit—and the shirt I had given him on his birthday. Our last exchange was sour and devastating. My father was there, reprimanding me like I was still a little girl, like I didn’t even deserve to talk to him in private. Andrew stood there, looking handsome and perfect, not even trying to defend me. He didn’t react when my father called me a whore, a stupid bitch that was destroying his career. It was the worst day of my life.
If I had known in the beginning that he was using me, then maybe I could have avoided all the drama.
Now, he was sitting behind the glass, eager and excited to see my moves. I had no choice; I wasn’t ready to confront him, so I started dancing. With my story I could help clean my reputation and show my father that I was after all his daughter.
I danced, spun around, showing him my best moves, determined to be seductive, sinful and provocative. He shifted on the sofa a few times, staring at me with absolute desire. I knew that look on his face when he was turned on, the way his eyes flickered with excitement as I bent down, teasing him. Andrew had the dark sensual looks of his Italian heritage. He was also rich and successful, and within days he had me wrapped around his little finger.
It took a while to get into a rhythm. I was a little unfocused, aware of every move. I had loved him—well, I’d thought I had. After his wife caught us, the whole truth came out. I learned that he started sleeping with me because he wanted to get back at his wife and he needed to get closer to my father. He didn’t love me or care what happened to me afterward or that I had to leave Glasgow.
Dark, haunting emotions were mounting inside me, forcing me to do this, to dance. I knew that I shouldn’t have slept with him; I admitted that the whole thing went too far, but that cold bastard told my father that I was the one that seduced him, that he was going through a rough time and was easily swayed by my charms.
Panting, I steadied myself on my feet when I was done. I bowed slightly and vanished behind the doors as soon as he started clapping. Nauseous and lost, I ran through the corridor. I barged into the changing room, ripping the mask from my eyes. The stripper that had lent me a hair clip earlier on was there, changing. Aimee, that was her name.
“Are you all right?”
I shut my eyes, trying to steady my pounding heart, telling myself this whole thing was only a bad dream. Andrew Hamilton wasn’t in the club tonight. He was supposed to be abroad, far, far away from me.
“Yes … well, no. I don’t know,” I said. My body was shaking and my thoughts racing.
“It’s always hard the first time, but don’t worry, you will get used to it,” she assured me, smiling. She was about my height, maybe even shorter, pretty with lots of freckles all over her nose. “I hope the client wasn’t inappropriate. Some of them are real pigs!”
“Oh no, I wasn’t stripping. I danced on the pole,” I explained, feeling like an idiot.
“Well, you’re lucky then. I’m only good at taking my clothes off.” She chuckled. “Which room did you go to? The club is mental tonight; Nathan is stressed out.”
“Err … I’m not sure … the third one on the corner.”
“The third one? Wow that’s strange. He normally likes a lap dance, nothing so dry.”
I stilled and looked at her.
“What did you just say?” I asked.
“Well, Johnny normally likes strippers or a lap dancer. He’s here once a month at least,” she explained, walking around the room and picking up stuff for her outfit.
I told myself to keep breathing, but I couldn’t take enough oxygen into my lungs.
“Do you know him, the client? Tall, smoky eyes, dark hair, beard? I thought his name was—”
“Hot, right? Johnny Hodges. He’s the guest of Mr. Lurkin, who partly owns this club. Don’t say anything to anyone. We aren’t supposed to talk about him,” she said with serious expression.
I blinked rapidly, staring at her like she just slapped me. “That client out there? Did you say that his name was Johnny Hodges?”
“Shhh. Don’t be so loud. I wasn’t supposed to use his name!”
Mack
Lurkin had called me again, after a week. He gave me the address to one of his warehouses on the outskirts of Edinburgh and told me to show up. He was short staffed tonight, so I jumped at the opportunity like any good neighbour would.
I sat in his office for about half an hour, working through the pointless paperwork, trying to remember who Mack McCune was. All my documents were impeccable, the guys in Glasgow had done a great job in faking my identity. Lurkin couldn’t be taken for granted. He was careful and I had to play a dumb ass.
“I have five trucks that need to go out tonight. Raj will give you the delivery schedule. If you don’t mess anything up, I want you here tomorrow at the same time.” Lurkin chuckled, trying to be funny.
“There won’t be any mess-up. I can assure you,” I stated. “Thanks for this, Adrian. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t sweat it. We’re neighbours; we should be helping each other. Besides, your woman will have your balls if you screw up.” He said that loud enough for the other guys to hear him. They all laughed, and I laughed too, but deep down I imagined him in the interrogation room, terrified and not so confident.
I needed to remind myself that this was part of my act, that Mack McCune had to make his wife happy, regardless. “How about I organise a boys’ night one evening? A couple of beers, a good cigar, a few hands of poker and maybe food. What do you say?”
“Good idea, but you should include Claire, so then I can invite Ellie. She finally agreed to go out with me.”
Rage washed through to me like a giant storm. What the fuck? Did he think that he was dating her?
“Okay, sounds good. Guess I was wrong. You managed to break her, then?”
“Believe it or not I bumped into her in the club the other night and we had a drink. I’ll speak to her. I’m sure she will be up for it,” Lurkin added, with a wink.
I told myself to stay calm. This wasn’t the time to screw up this whole operation. After I was done with the paperwork, he started introducing me around. Raj was his right-hand guy. He was Indian, with a Sikh turban on his head and a very thick accent. I was making mental notes, counting the number of people that worked in the warehouse tonight.
I left the depot around seven that night and came back at five a.m. The deliveries were straight forward, and Raj had given me enough details so I wouldn’t mess anything up.
I went to bed just after seven in the morning, exhausted, but glad that I made some kind of progress. Claire was taking care of all the reports for the superintendent. I slept until three, for the first time not dreaming about Charlotte, but Ellie. I woke up with a hard dick, remembering our last steamy moment in the car. Fuck, she was so responsive and wet.
The apartment was empty. Things between me and Claire were still quite strained, but we were getting along. At least we were trying. That incident when I woke up strangling her must have shaken her up a little. She probably thought I was losing my mind. Claire had been Charlotte’s friend and her death had shaken her up too. All these years I had been blaming Claire for what happened and now I felt guilty about it. She was just doing her job and Charlotte was stubborn, even I knew that. My father had been telling me that I had to control myself better, that being impulsive wasn’t helping my case.
I went to the gym and worked out, trying not thinking about Ellie. Lurkin had a few more shifts for me later on in the week. I didn’t want to be stuck in the apartment all day today and I wasn’t too keen on the paperwork. There was another option—I could knock on Ellie’s door and find out if she was all right. She was pissed off with me and I owed her an apology.
I decided against this idea, and instead, I headed out and drove to the city. The drive took over half an hour. The traffic was slow moving today, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t have to be anywhere. I was driving around, killing time and thinking about the case.
After not being able to figure out what to do, I ended up in Coral. I had plenty of women that I could have called, but I couldn’t get Ellie out of my head. Her long smooth skin made my dick hard and I had no idea how to deal with this fucked up situation. She was so infuriating, doing exactly what I asked her not to do, fucking dating Lurkin.
Dad wanted to see me, from our short and to the point conversation he had figured out that I finally found a woman that pulled me away from my unhappy past, a woman who could put my grieving soul back together. I shook my head, knowing that he was wrong. Ellie couldn’t heal my grief.
The bouncer gave me a nod when I slipped through. Women were eyeing me up. I couldn’t deny I saw them looking. I wanted to have a quiet drink, avoid talking to anyone. Tonight, I wasn’t Mack McCune, but Tobias Stanley. He was a guy who couldn’t stop thinking about his unattainable neighbour. How pathetic.
The first thing that hit me in the club was the amount of people on the dance floor and at the bar. Earlier in the day I had read that a famous rock band was going to play tonight. I was probably too old for the company in here, but I needed some time out, a break.
I had my pass to the private part of the club. Maybe I was violating the fucking rules, but whatever, this case was going to take longer than I anticipated. It was late evening, I felt lonely and sexually frustrated. Tonight I needed a woman that could understand that I wanted to possess her, physically and mentally. Thoughts about Ellie were overwhelming. I had to forget about her.
My mood shifted when I noticed that the bar was packed too. A few long-legged strippers were hanging over clients. I knew that Lurkin was a member, he liked hanging around here, but he was very careful. He kept a low profile, avoided trouble.
I’d always had a pretty high sex drive, and when I married Charlotte, we were all over each other. During our honeymoon we barely left the bedroom. I was fed up with reminding myself that Ellie wasn’t her. After Charlotte’s death I got this notion that if I could control a woman’s orgasm, then I could control my grief. The only time that I managed to accomplish it was with Ellie, the night that we met and that time in my car.
She mentioned that she had been involved with a married man before. I understood. She didn’t want to repeat patterns from the past. She was anxious not to make the same mistake again.
I ordered some whiskey, watching other customers, and half an hour later, I requested a private dance. A pretty long-legged brunette walked me to one of the rooms, chatting with me all the way.
I just had to blow off some steam, get it together and get focused.
The room was spacious, with red carpet and red walls. The lighting seemed over the top. When the dancer showed up I realized my plan had failed. Ellie, my sexy, submissive neighbour stood in front of me.
It looked like this wasn’t a joke. She was here to dance for me when I wanted to erase her from my mind forever.