Dancing With Lies (Barre To Bar Book 1) Page 6

  Out of the smoke new voices rose, those of her parents, screaming in agony as they tried to escape the burning flames that surrounded them now. Roxie ran, trying to find them, to save them all.

  She found herself in a room, surrounded by surging flames that created a noise, a roar that filled her head until her ears felt as if they’d burst. She screamed for Emily and her parents again, but the sound was only a whisper. As was the ‘help me’ she cried just as the world went black.

  Roxie woke up, gasping for air, the smell of smoke lingering in her nose. Tears ran down her cheeks, scalding her skin, but she’d take that over flames any day. She looked around the dimly lit confines of her bedroom and took another deep breath to calm her pulse. It was only the nightmare.

  She ignored the flood of relief as she got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Luckily, Emily and Dylan came back from their vacation and picked up their little bundle of joy two days ago. She was alone in her apartment and didn’t have to think about anything at all.

  With muscle memory alone, she plugged in the only real appliance she had, her coffee maker, and went through the motions of filling the machine with water and coffee. A tub of powdered coffee creamer sat with other flavored powder creamers, a necessity since she wouldn’t allow a fridge in the apartment. It might cause a spark, and that was just too dangerous for her.

  It wasn’t just losing her parents that had given Roxie this complex about fire, possibly even pyrophobia, it was the fire in the nightmares that truly freaked her out. The fire at Elmo’s had only exacerbated the problem, but she’d learned to cope with it. On a morning like this, she could barely stand the thought of plugging the coffee maker in, but her brain demanded the caffeine, so she let her body do the work.

  Instead of dwelling on the nightmare, she thought about her schedule as the coffee brewed. She had a class to give in the afternoon and she was pondering a new business venture. The insurance company didn’t want to pay up, but she’d find a way. Well, Dylan James would. He was good to Roxie and she appreciated that. She’d have had no idea who to turn to when the insurance company first started to balk at paying out. She hadn’t owned Elmo’s outright, but she’d owned a good share of the business. She expected something from the insurance company, even if the fire was the result of arson.

  And that was the problem really. The insurance company was making out that the fire had been deliberately set by the owners. Roxie knew that wasn’t the truth, but she didn’t know who might have set the blaze.

  Roxie filled a mug with coffee, added the hazelnut powder creamer, and was about to unplug the coffee maker when she spotted a mug she’d bought for Nathan, back when she’d started to believe that he might be the one that could change her life. “I’ll spend eternity making you coffee” was printed on the mug, something she’d meant when she saw it.

  With a frown, she unplugged the machine, wound the cord around the white plastic, and took her coffee into the living room. She had no idea where Nathan was or what exactly had gone wrong with him. Or if he was coming back.

  But did she want someone that could just vanish on her like that coming back into her life? She’d given him dozens of chances and forgiven far too much already from the man. The old Roxie would have set him free after the first time he disappeared on her, but she’d wanted this time to be real too much to give up.

  Instead of dwelling on it, Roxie got up when her coffee was finished and took a shower. Once she’d dried her hair, braided it, and put on makeup, she put on a pair of denim shorts and an Arctic Monkeys t-shirt she’d bought when she went to a music festival a couple of years ago. She didn’t feel like dressing up too much.

  The nightmare would fuck her up for the rest of the day, as it always did, and she just…didn’t feel like it.

  Emily messaged her around 11 am to confirm the class she was giving later, and Roxie sent back a short message. Maybe she needed to walk this off?

  She headed out of her apartment, hopped on the bike she kept chained behind the Lemon Fresh dry cleaners, aiming for the boardwalk. She rode past resort after resort, the aquarium, the upside-down house that drove her bonkers when she saw it, and dodged traffic as best she could. She thought about stopping for some lunch at one of the many restaurants she passed but changed her mind when she saw the SkyWheel, a huge Ferris wheel along the Boardwalk and Promenade as it was officially known.

  The sound of the waves crashing on the beach was already soothing her and she soon lost herself in investigating the tourist attractions and watching people go by. This always helped her calm down, even if it made her feel like she was invisible. That’s what she wanted though, really, to just disappear among the crowd.

  She biked back home an hour later and cleaned up before changing into proper attire for the task at hand. A short pair of black nylon shorts and a black tank top did the trick. She braided her hair again before lacing up a pair of black ankle boots on her feet. It was time to do battle with her elderly clients.

  It wasn’t glamorous, teaching old ladies, but since Elmo’s burned down, she took jobs where she could get them. It paid her rent and kept her fed at least. She’d been offered jobs at other clubs, but the younger girls needed those jobs. She’d take the few freelance gigs she got and let the girls take the club gigs. She’d get by with a little help from her friends, she thought with a smile.

  “Don’t say it, Roxie, don’t say it.” She muttered a few hours later as she stared at a dozen old women eager to learn how to dance like the dancers they, probably, looked down on. They’d break a hip if she showed them the real stuff and she knew it.

  She was giving this class as a favor to Emily. Some of Emily’s mom’s friends were fascinated that Emily had befriended such a unique woman, as the older Thompson woman put it. They wanted to know more about Roxie’s sexual exploits than about how to wind their saggy old limbs around a pole. A pole that would probably give them skin tears anyway, she thought, as she plastered on a smile and looked around the room Emily had provided at her house. One of the old biddies with false teeth that were far too large had just asked her how to please her husband in bed.

  Roxie had almost told the woman with hard eyes and far too many wrinkles to count to find her husband a much younger woman if she hadn’t figured that out already, but she’d bitten her tongue and held back the harsh words. “I’ll show you a few tricks that might work.”

  This class might take more than one lesson, judging from the eager looks of all the women as they gathered around in sweat suits and leotards that hid things Roxie really didn’t want to think about. Not that she was against the older generations exploring their sexuality, she just worried about their hearts, and other parts, being overused if she taught them too much. Plus, she was in a really, really bad mood.

  It was the kind of mood that would have normally seen her calling in to Elmo’s and telling them she wouldn’t be in today unless she had a client coming in who liked the sting of pain. She’d be better tomorrow, after a night’s sleep with no nightmares.

  She managed to get through the class and set up an appointment for another class at the building where she taught women who wanted to be professionals, real professionals, at the job. Once she got home, she settled in for the night, ordered some food from Uber Eats, and waited to feel tired enough to get to sleep. She’d just cleared away the carryout boxes and the glass of red wine when her phone started to buzz.

  “Roxie?” Her friend Amelia said once the call connected.

  “Hey, girl! What’s up?” Roxie asked, wondering why Amelia had called. Not that she didn’t like the woman, it was just that the pair didn’t talk very often anymore. Not since Amelia got married and started teaching classes at a facility for dancers only. She was getting out of the pole dancing life and Roxie couldn’t blame her. She was currently on maternity leave and filling in for her was one of Roxie’s part-time jobs. It was nice to teach a real class of dancers, not just the occasional job doing a gig here and there.
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br />   “I’m just letting you know that the dancers at the class really like you and the facility would like to hire you full-time, if you’re interested?” Amelia made a shushing noise and Roxie knew she was probably rocking the baby in her arms.

  “I don’t know how long I could keep doing it, I have plans but I’m not sure they’re going to pan out. Can I let you know in a few days?” That might not be enough time, but Roxie knew she’d have to make a decision of some kind if she wanted to keep eating and paying her phone bill.

  “Sure, take your time. I’ll be out for a couple of more weeks so there’s no rush. And thank you so much. I knew you’d be perfect for the class.”

  “Thanks, Amelia. How’s that baby girl doing?” Roxie asked and the conversation carried on for a little while longer before Amelia’s little girl woke up and started to scream her head off. Amelia quickly said goodbye and Roxie had to smile. There were options for her future, at least. If she wanted to get out of the lifestyle she’d lived for so long. But did she? That was a huge question she didn’t have an answer to.

  4

  Roxie

  “This will look great for afternoon tea.” Wendy held up an outfit that nearly made Roxie’s jaw drop. ‘This’ was a red Dolce and Gabbana Cady midi dress that Roxie reached for, ignoring the horridly floral minidress with poplin sleeves.

  “I’ll wear this one,” Roxie said with absolutely no guilt about the fact that the dresses were from Wendy’s parents’ dry-cleaning clients. It was something she and Wendy had done often; ‘borrow’ dresses to wear before giving them back to the owners.

  “There’s a gorgeous Dior dress but the staff are busy working on a stain the owner got on it.” Wendy rolled her eyes, like getting a stain on such an expensive dress was careless. Considering how much those dresses cost, Roxie knew it was silly, but if you had enough money to buy one then you probably didn’t care about replacing it if you messed it up.

  “I’ll take this one and be extra careful as always.” Roxie leaned over to peck Wendy’s cheek with a light kiss and gave her a grin. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”

  “What am I going to do with all those rich ladies? I’d give them the vapors or something.” Wendy laughed her huge laugh, the last thing you’d call delicate, but it was real and Roxie loved it.

  “I love Emily, but I hate these teas she gives.” Roxie groaned as she took a seat on the couch, the dress folded in her lap.

  “She’s a good friend to you, but I’d hate going to those silly parties too.” Wendy sat down beside Roxie and relaxed while she could. She’d have to go back down to the shop soon.

  Roxie looked down at the dress, feeling a little spark of shame that she had to borrow a dress to wear to Emily’s. She had bought her own clothes over the years and Emily was always gifting her dresses from these little tea parties, but these were the kind of events where you didn’t wear the same dress twice. Not if you didn’t want the other women there to look down on you.

  “Emily isn’t a bad person, and you know she likes you too,” Roxie said suddenly, the words Wendy had spoken finally sinking in. “She’s not afraid of people from other cultures or anything.”

  “Oh, I know she isn’t,” Wendy replied quickly, her brows together in a frown. “I probably shouldn’t joke about that kind of thing, but it’s hard not to do sometimes.”

  Wendy had told Roxie about the passive racism she’d endured over the years, the snide comments customers made, things that had happened in stores, even her school years had been hard. There wasn’t anything delicate about Wendy but she was loveable, loyal, and always eager to make people around her laugh. It was her coping mechanism and Roxie knew it.

  “I know.” Roxie sighed, looked at the dress, and hated it for a moment. Instead of a treat, the dress now felt like a prison.

  “I’ve got to get back downstairs; I have a few hours left before mom and dad take over for me.” Wendy stood up, picked up the floral dress Roxie hadn’t even looked at, and smiled down at her friend. “You’ll be alright?”

  “I’ll be fine, Wendy.”

  “Well, I’ll call if you want me to, claim there’s an emergency of some kind if you need me to.” Wendy offered, not for the first time.

  “I should be fine.” Roxie laughed and brushed off Wendy’s offer. “I’m learning my way around Emily’s mom and the other women just stare at me most of the time. It’s not a big deal.”

  “See ya later, then.” Wendy waved and left the apartment.

  Roxie got up, showered since she’d gone out on her bike again that morning, and armored herself for battle. She did her makeup perfectly, slid on her lingerie, strapped her stockings in place, put her hair up in a chic bun, and then put the dress on. It fit her perfectly.

  The dress ended just below her knees with sleeves that came down to her elbows. Paired with some black heels, the kind with red soles, Roxie looked perfect for an afternoon of looking over dresses that cost more than some people’s cars. The last time it was Chanel, today Dior wanted to show off their latest designs to Emily and her friends.

  When Roxie walked into Emily’s house there were several voices filling the air and the representatives from Dior already had three racks full of clothes out. Roxie looked the clothes over with an interested eye but turned to face Emily.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was late.” She leaned over to peck Emily’s cheek and Emily did the same.

  “Oh, you aren’t late, they got here early,” Emily replied and kissed the cheek Roxie offered. “Have a seat.”

  As usual, there were no price tags on any of the clothes displayed to them one by one, Roxie noted as she took a cup of tea from the woman who brought it over to her. Roxie looked around as she took a sip of the tea, knowing the women didn’t care about price tags.

  Roxie saw Emily’s mother, some of the mother’s friends, and a couple of Emily’s sisters-in-law. It was the mother’s friends that always looked down at Roxie, even when they were sitting down, and she was standing up. It wasn’t a look Roxie was unfamiliar with, she’d seen her own mother’s friends do the same things sometimes.

  The memory made Roxie’s lips twitch in a smile.

  “Remind me, Roxie, what was it your parents do? You seem so at home at these parties, but, well, you know, I’m sure you aren’t used to them in your line of work.” The mother’s croaky voice needled at Roxie, but she just gave the woman a bland smile before she replied.

  “Well, I’m no longer in touch with my parents, Mrs. Thompson, so I couldn’t say what they do now,” Roxie replied with a guileless look, as if completely unaware that she’d just implied the woman knew better and should mind her own business. She could have been snotty and glared at the older woman, but she was Emily’s mother. Roxie didn’t want to be too hateful to her.

  Mrs. Thompson’s thin, dry lips pursed and she looked away quickly, her perfectly bobbed silver hair moving with her head like a helmet against the world’s assaults. Roxie had got the best of her then and they both knew it.

  “Oh, Roxie that’s perfect for you!” Emily declared as one of the representatives, a stressed-looking woman in a black suit with quite a few frown lines around her eyes, took out a blue and white dress with palm motifs.

  Roxie immediately shook her head, an answer already forming on her lips. “You know I don’t like…”

  “Don’t be silly, it’ll look perfect on you with your curves. We’ll take that one.” Emily said and gave the woman Roxie’s size.

  Roxie noted the woman’s instant look of relief. She must have needed the sale. It was Emily’s money, she decided, and let it go. The dress would go in the back of her closet, maybe to be worn to a tea or something.

  Roxie sat back for the rest of the afternoon, her thoughts on her parents. They hadn’t been as rich as Emily’s parents, but they hadn’t been far from it. Her mother had a Chanel account, provided by her father, and though the people from Chanel had never brought items for her mother to look over
, Roxie had worn the best clothes and had owned a few items from Chanel’s lines as a teenager. She wasn’t a stranger to high fashion, which was what Mrs. Thompson had pointed out while also pointing out that Roxie was ‘just a stripper’ so how could she possibly be familiar with these kinds of events?

  A knock at the door brought Emily’s head around, a frown of confusion on her face. “There’s nobody missing, who could that be?”

  Emily excused herself and went to the door. Roxie’s eyebrows went up when she saw two police detectives outside holding up their badges, a woman, and a man. Now, what could this possibly be about, she wondered.

  “Excuse me miss, we’re trying to locate Emily Thompson.” That was the red-headed female detective, the male detective stood behind the woman as if he wanted to appear non-threatening.

  “That’s me. I’m actually Emily James now, I got married not too long ago. How can I help you?” Emily’s sweet voice spoke softly but politely.

  “We need to ask you a few questions, ma’am. May we come in?” The woman asked and stepped in without being asked.

  Roxie frowned at that. The woman should have waited to be invited in. Just barging her way in was plain rude and threatening. Roxie decided the woman must be playing bad cop then.

  “What do you know about the fire at Elmo’s, Miss Thompson?” The woman asked abruptly and with an obvious sneer.

  Her partner put a hand on the woman’s elbow as if to pull her back outside, and the whole situation set Roxie’s nerves on edge. She got up and went to Emily’s side as Emily spoke.

  “It’s Mrs. James, and I know only what I’ve told other police already.” Emily hissed, looking back at her guests with mortification clear on her face. “Please, follow me to the library.”

  “Emily, what is this? What’s Elmo’s?” Mrs. Thompson asked from behind Roxie, who now had an arm around Emily’s waist.