Masquerade Read Free Page B

spoke briefly into it. “She’s expecting
you.”
    “She is? She doesn’t even
know my name.” Beth’s eyes widened.
    He shrugged. “She knew
you were coming. Have a seat and she’ll be out in a few.”
    He moved further down the
bar, placing the goblet in a hanging rack of glassware. He picked up another
glass, but spent more time watching Beth than drying it.
    She leaned a hip against
a bar stool and tried to find something to quell her nerves, short of asking
for a shot of anything from one of those bottles lining the back of the bar. What would she be asked to do? And would it be here? She glanced at the stage. Was this a strip joint? Beth felt
the flush that tinged her cheeks and gulped.   She didn’t do public
exhibition.
    Then she remembered the
rip in her jeans. Crap.
    “Hey,” she called to the
bartender. “Got a bathroom around here?”
    “Yup. Over in that far corner,” he said, pointing behind Beth.
    Beth was off the chair
and reaching for her bag, ready to dash for a quick change, when a door at the
far end of the bar opened and a woman who could only be Sally walked out. Taller
than Beth by several inches, buxom was an understatement for her build. She
wore a black corset with red lace overlays designed to show off her, um,
assets.
    She walked with a “don’t
mess with me” air that made Beth drop the bag at her side.
    “You Beth?” Even the woman’s voice commanded respect.
    Beth gulped. “Yes.”
    Sally eyed her from top
to bottom and Beth jumped when the woman reached for the baggy T-shirt she wore,
pulling it tight.
    “Not much to you is
there, young’un. Well,” she continued. “You’ll have to do. Come with me.”
    No one disobeyed this
woman. That was easy to tell. Beth chose not to be the exception to the rule as
she picked up her bag and followed the owner of Masquerade .

Chapter Three
     
    Beth struggled to keep up
with the quick-stepping Sally when she walked past the bar and ducked through a
side door. She clutched her bag and used her other hand to cover the gash in her
jeans as she raced after the woman. Misjudging the width of the door, her
injured elbow hit it with a thunk, bringing immediate tears to her eyes. “Ouch!”
    The bartender was at her
side before she could regroup.
    “You
all right?” His voice was as gruff as the concern in his eyes was
serious.
    Beth fought to get the
tears under control, the pain to ebb, and get a hold of herself .
“I’m—I’m fine. Just a little shook up from an incident.”
    “What incident?” he
asked. She didn’t understand the focus in his eyes.
Even the mask couldn’t hide the emotion there. Why was
he so concerned?
    “It’s nothing, really.”
She glanced down the hall to a rapidly disappearing Sally, then back at the
bartender, holding up her suitcase. “Can I leave this with you?”
    He looked like he didn’t want to let it be, but he dropped his hand. “Sure. I’ll
keep an eye on it.”
    Beth mumbled a thank you,
handed him her suitcase, and hurried after Sally down a dimly lit hallway. She
barely saw the woman turn into a side door. When Beth caught up, she found
herself in an office even more ornate than the bar itself, if that were
possible. A deep, red-velvet covered lounger that dredged up the term “fainting
couch” didn’t diminish in any way the antique desk
that filled a good portion of the room. Drapes similar to oriental rugs hung
from every bit of wall space. Beth thought it rivaled a Maharaja’s palace.
    “Wow,” Beth said.
    “If you’re going to live
it, live it all the way,” Sally said with a laugh. “You have any trouble
finding the place?”
    “Except
for getting mugged and losing my purse, my money, and my phone? No. No
trouble.”
    “That’s a shame,” Sally
said, then moved one of the curtains aside. Beth saw racks of bagged clothing.
Sally glanced back at her.
    “You’re a tiny thing.
Size six, I’d guess?”
    “Umm,
yes.” That’s not how Steve would have