When a struggling Broadway talent agent reluctantly agrees to represent a male stripper, she finds out there's more to her new client than oiled abs.
Season 1 of Strip in the City
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Today might be the worst day of my life. I just lost my biggest c...
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West was here. In the bathroom. I hadn't expected to see him tonight.
At the sight of him, I transformed back into a baby fawn, my knees weak. Heart pounding. Eyes wide.
Even though bolts of excitement were tearing through me, West didn't look happy to see me. Not exactly. His black shirt was open at the throat, and his dark brows were pushed together. He looked like someone had stabbed him in the stomach.
I clutched the sink behind me, needing to steady myself. Had he overheard me talking to Orlando?
"I thought you got off work at eight," I sputtered out. Not knowing where to start.
"My shift ran long, and I was finally about to leave when I saw you sitting down to eat with that suit." West gestured behind him as if Orlando was standing outside the bathroom door. "Who is he?"
West took a step forward, and I swallowed hard.
"That suit is Orlando Blackfield. He owns Blackfield Talent. Another Broadway talent agency."
Nothing was said for an intense moment.
West wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I know we said we weren't going to talk about feelings, but I changed my mind. I want to talk about them right now. Because I'm feeling a lot of things."
I was standing at the precipice of a huge, life-changing decision. As a business owner, and as a talent agent, and as a woman who really, really liked the man standing in front of her.
I was so confused. What I wanted was at war with what I needed.
"Do we have to do this right here?" I asked, looking around the brightly lit tile. "Talk about feelings in a bathroom?"
West raked a hand through his already mussed black hair. "Maren, you're killing me over here."
My mouth opened than closed. I was killing him? I didn't understand what he meant.
"Fine, we can wait to have the feelings talk. I'll wait as long as you want." West took another step towards me, and I met him in the middle of the bathroom. "But answer me one thing." His deep voice was strained when he asked, "Are you on a date with him, or is this just business?"
I blinked once, glancing down at the concrete floor. Oh. Oh. He was jealous. Another flash of heat tore through my body. He didn't want me to be on a date with Orlando.
Why did I find his jealousy so...hot?
Clearly, my vagina was fighting for the chance to make decisions.
"I'm not on a date," I explained. "This is strictly business."
West raked his fingers through his hair again, then blew out a long breath. Some of the tension left his shoulders. "Sorry, I just saw you two together, and I don't know. It took me so off guard. I wasn't expecting to see you out with another guy looking so goddamn beautiful. And the way he was eyeing you like you were an appetizer course..." West paused, then he reached out and took my hands. "You're upset. What's wrong? Did that idiot say something to upset you? If he did, I swear to god I'll knock his ass out."
