Deborah Mello Fletcher

A Pleasing Temptation


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gestured for her to follow as he led them past the stage into the employees-only area. The men were all gathered, waiting to hear from him how well they’d done and if they’d made the powers in charge happy. As she passed, she paused for a split second, giving them all a thumbs-up and a wink. He tossed his friends a look but his attention was focused on Kamaya. He ushered her past the dressing area down a short hallway to another area of the building. Past the closed door was a row of tastefully decorated rooms, each with an oversized recliner, a settee, a coffee table and a pole.

      “This was here with the original business,” Wesley said. “There’s another more private entrance at the opposite end of the hallway where we came in. It’s now our VIP area for private dances for women wanting something more up close and personal. Women who are willing to pay for that discretion.”

      “We are not promoting prostitution!” Kamaya exclaimed, her incredulous expression moving him to smile. “There will be no happy ending rooms for you and your staff! That’s not happening!”

      He shook his head. “No, we are definitely not promoting prostitution and every dancer knows that they will be automatically dismissed if they ever engage in any kind of sexual activity on club premises in exchange for payment. Although what they do after they’re off the clock is not our business and we can’t control it. But there are women willing to pay well for some one-on-one attention. It’s usually that uptight business executive who has to maintain an image even when she’s here, but relishes an opportunity to get buck wild when no one is looking. You know the type. Women much like yourself.”

      Paxton laughed out loud at the comment. Kamaya gave him and Wesley a narrowed gaze.

      Wesley smiled. “I apologize. That was out of order, but I was only teasing. Trying to lighten the mood.”

      There was a hint of amusement in Kamaya’s eyes as her gaze danced with his. She blinked it away, shifting back to serious. “Do not get us shut down by the police’s vice department because your men can’t keep their dicks in their pants. And I mean it. If that ever happens, you may come up short in more ways than one. We are building a brand and an image, and I will not see that tarnished. I don’t think you have a clue what’s at stake.”

      Wesley’s stance tensed, his shoulders pulling back as he seemed to grow taller where he stood. He took a step forward, meeting her toe to toe. He stared down into her eyes. “Don’t get it twisted, Ms. Boudreaux, I am fully invested in the success of The Wet Bar. Now, I understand that the franchisor dictates the framework, the basics, but past that, I’m in charge. I’m managing and growing this business. I hire. I fire. I’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. And I’ll dictate how to market and promote every one of my locations. I’m wagering everything I have on making this model work for every franchise that comes after this one. Since I know that you and your bosses want to see me succeed, it will be a win–win situation for all. The happy ending rooms for our female clientele will stay.”

      The moment was suddenly tense, the air fraught with energy. The two stood, staring each other in the eye, falling headfirst into the look the other was giving. Each could have easily gotten lost in the other’s gaze. Kamaya suddenly realized that she was panting slightly, the air thick and warm between them. She took a step back, wishing for a cool breeze to blow her out of the reverie she’d somehow managed to trip into. She decided to change the subject, ignoring his last comment.

      “We’re putting a significant amount of money into your marketing program over the next six weeks to support your grand opening. I reviewed your advertising campaign and it’s been approved but...” She paused as she gestured for Paxton to pass her a manila folder from his briefcase. “It’s my understanding that you may have worked with a dancer we think should be invited to help motivate the customers and help bring in a crowd. I’m told he was extremely popular and had quite a following. His stage name was Deuce or Deuces, but we haven’t been able to find out anything else about him.”

      “Deuce?” Wesley’s face suddenly went blank, his expression unreadable.

      She nodded. “He had quite a reputation,” she said, as she flipped through a number of newspaper articles. “But we haven’t been able to find any photos or videos. Seems like he peaked prior to everything being captured on the internet, but the women are still talking about him. If he’s dancing, maybe hire him to be a featured guest performer. If not, maybe he can MC or something. Either way, we think it’ll be good for business.”

      “Maybe one of the other guys knows who he is?” Paxton interjected.

      “Who?” Bryan questioned, having entered the room behind them. He looked from one to the other. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt but the contractor needs you to take a look at the tile in the ladies’ room.” He tossed Wesley a nod. “So, who is it you want to know about?”

      “A dancer by the name of Deuce,” Paxton said. “Unfortunately, we don’t have his government name.”

      “Deuce?” A slow smile pulled at the man’s thin lips. “I know Deuce. I know him really well. In fact, he’s a very good friend...”

      “Well then,” Wesley interrupted. “We know who he is. I’ll reach out and see if I can’t get him to perform.”

      “We need an answer by Wednesday,” Kamaya noted. “There are ads that will need to be revised before they go to press. So if you need me to speak with him, I can.”

      He shook his head. “I can handle it, but if he’s not interested I’m not going to push.”

      “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be interested.” Bryan grinned.

      Wesley shot his friend a look, the gesture flying over Kamaya’s head.

      “Then I think we’re finished here,” she said, doing an about-face. She stole a quick glance down at her wristwatch. “I have another meeting to get to. Paxton, if you’ll please get any paperwork Wesley has for us, I’d appreciate it. I’d like to review those numbers he put together.”

      Paxton dropped a tentative hand against her forearm. His voice dropped to a low whisper. “Do you have time for us to talk?”

      Kamaya stepped out of his reach, pulling her arm from his grasp. “Maybe later,” she said. There was no missing the friction that shifted between them. Wesley eyed them both curiously, not missing the annoyance that had furrowed Kamaya’s brow.

      She turned and extended her hand to shake his. “Congratulations, Wesley! You’ve done a great job,” she said as her palm glided like silk against his.

      There was just a split second of something that Wesley was sure neither of them could explain or define. It passed like a strike of lightning between them. It was a wealth of heat and emotion that startled them both. She snatched her hand from his as he clutched his into a tight fist.

      He smiled, the bend of his lush lips showcasing picture-perfect teeth. “Thank you.”

      Kamaya smiled back. “How do you feel about being the public face of The Wet Bar?”

      Wesley’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

      “Our executive board would like to personalize the image somewhat, and we believe that your enthusiasm about the business and your knowledge about the industry make you a good fit. Obviously we would compensate you accordingly, but it would mean that most marketing queries would roll through your office. Obviously The Michelle Initiative would support you as needed, but we’re willing to let this be your baby, if you agree.”

      His gaze narrowed slightly. “Why?”

      “This is a very public foray into the adult entertainment business. For personal reasons, the owners would like to distance themselves somewhat. This would allow them that.”

      “I’d like to think about it and get back to you, if that’s okay?”

      She nodded. “That’s not a problem at all. And if it will help in your decision, know that the compensation would be quite handsome.”

      Paxton