He didn’t need to.
Smithie, who started the club, owned the rest of it and ran it, knew his business. He was serious about it. He was also honest. And he had the right reputation for the job—a man you didn’t fuck with, but a man that took care of his business by taking care of his customers as well as his staff, from cleaning ladies to bouncers to bartenders to talent.
That was the first time Marcus had been there in over a year.
It was morning. Early. They didn’t open until one. There were no windows to the building so the lights inside were on. Three women were moving through the space, one wiping down tables, the other two mopping the floor.
And two women were on the stage.
It appeared one was training the other.
The door behind him opened but Marcus didn’t look from the window even as he heard Smithie walk in.
He kept his eyes on the stage.
“I hear you have a headliner,” Marcus noted to the window, his attention aimed through it but locked on the blonde on that stage.
“Velvet rope, brother,” Smithie replied and Marcus felt him move through the office.
He also felt him stop at Marcus’s side.
“She danced with the other girls for about a week,” Smithie told him. “Before I put her out there, saw it during her audition. Still had no idea how much of a stir she was gonna cause due to her talent. Don’t need the bullshit it was gonna bring, all the boys shovin’ their cash in Daisy’s strings, the other girls get screwed since she’s outshinin’ ’em by a mile. If I clear the stage for her, she works the boys on her own, got no bitches workin’ my nerves, whinin’ about their tips. Four sets, three songs each, she gets her take and then some. The other girls get a good break to re-oil or whatever and the boys are primed and motivated to keep the goodness flowin’ after she leaves the stage.”
“Three sets, two songs, and no lap dances,” Marcus stated.
“Say what?” Smithie asked.
Marcus turned to the man.
He was black. Big. In his day he’d been fit, never lean, a powerhouse. His body had gone somewhat soft with age, but Smithie hadn’t gone soft. He was sharp, shrewd, educated, and street smart. His life had been bumpy, not as bumpy as some, but bumpier than most. He’d stood strong through it making smart decisions, wise alliances, and not many enemies.
“Three sets, two songs, and no lap dances,” Marcus repeated.
From New York Times bestselling author, Kristen Ashley, comes the long-awaited story of Daisy and Marcus, Rock Chick Reawakening. A prequel to Kristen’s Rock Chick series, Rock Chick Reawakening shares the tale of the devastating event that nearly broke Daisy, an event that set Marcus Sloan—one of Denver’s most respected businessmen and one of the Denver underground’s most feared crime bosses—into finally making his move to win the heart of the woman who stole his.
Kristen grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana and has lived in Denver, Colorado and the West Country of England. Thus, she's blessed to have friends and family around the globe. Her family was (is) loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write. They all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched).
Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.
And as she keeps growing, it keeps getting better.
WEBSITE * FACEBOOK * TWITTER * NEWSLETTER * GOODREADS * PINTEREST * INSTAGRAM