Confessions of an Alli Cat Read Free Page B

and down the walk to the curb, to the shiny black limousine waiting there.  The ride is only twenty minutes or so, during which I drink champagne in the back of the limo at a rate of speed that would make a sailor proud.
    When we glide to a stop at the club, I follow Sara out of the car. 
    And the man waiting for me nearly takes my breath away.
    He’s taller than I imagined and much broader than I expected.  His shoulders look a mile wide in his perfectly-tailored tuxedo, making his waist look smaller than mine.  His hair is dark brown and his eyes are the same dark, sparkling blue as they are in his picture.
    He’s young, all right.  But there is nothing boyish about this guy.  Not at all.
    As I step from the car, he extends his hand toward me.  I slip my fingers into his and he smiles.  I’m pretty sure my knees go numb and my uterus has a spasm.  But it’s when he speaks that I know it’s all over but the shouting. And the Hallelujah choir. 
    “You’re more beautiful than I could’ve imagined,” he purrs in a deep, velvety voice.
    Yep, I’m gonna ride him like a runaway bull tonight. No two ways about it.
    The thought makes me smile.
     
     
     
     

Chapter Two
     
    (Because sometimes you just gotta have the guy’s perspective)
     
    Shade
    “You’re a rock star,” I mutter to the guy in the mirror as I tug his black tie into a crisp bow.  “A fucking rock star.”
    “Dude, who the hell are you talking to?”
    Chaz strides into the dressing room. 
    Correction.  Chaz struts into the room.  Chaz struts into every room like a little rooster.  It’s annoying as hell.  In fact, he’s annoying as hell.  But since two women requested us both together, we’re stuck with each other tonight.  And I know that he doesn’t like it any more than I do.  He’s an asshole and I just pray that I can get through the night without knocking his teeth down the back of his cocky little rooster throat. 
    I don’t answer.  I just return my attention to the man in the mirror.  The guy staring back at me is confident, worldly and sexy as hell.  He’s comfortable in the starched penguin suit and he can charm a woman’s Victoria Secret panties right off of her. 
    He’s Shade.  And Shade is a fucking rockstar.
    “You about ready?” Chaz cocks an eyebrow at me and waits impatiently.  “You’re such a fucking girl,” he mutters beneath his breath.
    I glance at him.  He’s sitting on a red velvet lounge to my left, his short legs thumping restlessly against the wooden legs.   He’s just a short little guy.  I don’t see what women see in him.  As he waits, he grabs a mint from the silver dish beside him and plunks it into his mouth, adhering to one of our rules.  Always have fresh breath, but never chomp on gum . 
    This dressing room is plush, quiet and meant to be calming.  Most of my colleagues (and I use that term loosely) don’t need to be calmed.  They’ve been doing this for quite a while. I’m the new kid on the block, the youngest and newest on the team.  I’ve only been doing this for six months, but I’ve done it every weekend, which makes twenty four weekends of this.  Of dates.  
    That’s what we call them.  Dates. 
    I smile to myself because dates in high school or even college were never like this.  The vague memory of clutching and groping at each other in parked cars in dark alleys with fogged up car windows comes to mind and I almost laugh. 
    My life has certainly progressed. 
    Ever since my friend Adam introduced me to this job, my life has changed for the better.  I no longer have to beg money from my old man and live by his rules.  I can pay my own way because I make a LOT of money by doing something that I love.  And that means that I don’t have to get the freaking business degree that my father wanted me to get.  I have no interest in that.  I don’t really know what I’m interested in yet, but it’s sure as hell not business.
    The man in the