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  Agitated, Julia rose and crossed to the low dresser, peering at her reflection in the attached mirror.

  “What in hell are you doing, woman?” she asked herself, taking in her flushed cheeks, bright eyes and protruding nipples. “What’s the point in torturing yourself like this? He’s not here and you’re probably never going to see him again. You’ve gotta move on.”

  Yes, I know, her reflection replied, but you still want him so badly your pussy aches. And not only your pussy, either. Admit it. You had fun with him. He got you to try harder, to do better. He did something to you, to your heart, something that can never be undone. So you’re either going to have to do something about it, or forget about him completely.

  Julia stared at herself, seeing the truth in her own eyes. She wasn’t best by herself anymore. Something was missing, something that left a gap, an empty space. Dammit, she’d tried so hard to do it all on her own, not trust any so-called partner, and now it looked like she’d failed.

  No, her other self admonished, not failed. Having someone else in your life, or even wanting someone else in your life does not equal failure. It doesn’t make you weak or incapable. It makes you human, you twit. And besides, you’re the winner here, not Jack. He didn’t try to take this party away from you, did he? Did he kick you to the curb like Jeremy did? Did he do anything even remotely underhanded or mean? No. You won. It’s your game, you dingbat. You stayed in charge. Now, is it really so bad to want to be with Jack?

  The revelation made her pause. A bubble of cautious excitement rose in her chest. Julia crossed the room to the telephone hanging on the wall and dialed Jack’s cell phone number that she’d finagled from Jordan what felt like ages ago.

  “We’re sorry. The customer you are trying to reach is unavailable.” The recorded female voice chirped pleasantly in her ear.

  “Shit,” Julia muttered, disconnecting the call. A short knock at the door startled her. She opened the door to accept her drink from a petite redhead in a tidy uniform, thanked the woman, then closed the door and turned back to the telephone.

  She took a large swallow from her glass and quickly punched in a second number.

  “You’re go for the J-Man.”

  Julia quirked an eyebrow and grinned. “‘The J-Man’? Nice, Jordan. It’s Julia. I have a question for you.”

  “Julia. What’s up? You’re at the Sweetham gig, aren’t you? Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. I haven’t started the show yet. I wanted to know if you have a different contact number for Jack. I just tried calling him on his cell and couldn’t get through.”

  “Jack, huh?” Jordan’s voice rose, curiosity coloring his tone. “I didn’t think you were talking to him any longer now that you’d won the big prize.”

  Julia huffed out a sigh of exasperation. “Frankly, Jordan, it’s none of your business why I need to talk to Jack. I just do, okay?”

  Another voice, distinctly male, said something on Jordan’s end of the line, and he made an unintelligible reply before coming back on the line.

  “Max saw him today, so he’s still around town. I’ll see what I can do, but I wouldn’t worry too much, Julia. Jack has a way of showing up in the most unlikely of places when you least expect it.” The muffled sound of something that had a definite naughty feel came across the line. Julia glanced at the digital clock on the phone’s base, realizing with a pang of guilt just what time it was.

  “Oh, shit. Sorry to interrupt your night, Jordan. Thanks anyway.”

  Jordan gave a dirty chuckle. “No problem, Julia. We were just getting started, weren’t we?”

  Julia laughed softly in reply. “Glad to hear it. You boys play safe and you can tell me all about it later.”

  “Oh, you’re such a wicked girl,” Jordan said, the smirk on his face evident in his tone. “I’ll give you every last naughty detail, if you want.”

  “Always, J.” Julia disconnected the call and returned to the armchair, somewhat deflated. If Jack was nowhere to be found, how could she tell him how she felt?

  A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and Nelson appeared.

  “Showtime, Kitty,” he said with an approving glance at her appearance. “Love it, Mick is going to explode over this.”

  Julia forced a smile to her lips. “Thanks. Give me just one second, Nelson.” She rose and crossed to the mirror, giving herself a once-over. Reasonably satisfied, she picked up her drink glass and swallowed the last couple of mouthfuls of liquid.

  Departing the room, they headed down the hallway, deeper into the house. Opulence lay around every corner in the form of original artwork and sculpture by various artists, along with luxe leather and mahogany furniture, but Julia was mostly oblivious. Part of her brain realized she might want to pay closer attention to her surroundings, that this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, but she found she simply couldn’t bring herself to care.

  “We’re heading to the ballroom, where the party’s being held. We’ve got about one hundred and fifty guests here tonight. Mr. Sweetham is rumored to be up for a couple of Grammy awards this year, and he wanted to throw this bash before the nominations are announced in a couple of days.” Nelson grinned at Julia. “Good karma, and all that.” They turned a corner and moved down yet another hallway. “Anyway, bottom line is, it’s a really hyped, excited crowd out there. They’re celebrating already, and they’ll get crazier when they find out you’re here.”

  Julia nodded, forcing a smile onto her lips and eagerness into her voice. “That’s great.” She had to think of something else other than the crowd that waited for the famous Kitty Red. “He definitely deserves those award nominations. I really love Mick’s stuff,” she said, relieved to not have to fake her enthusiasm on that point, at least. She glanced around herself. “This place is huge, isn’t it?”

  Nelson nodded and grinned. “It takes a while before you stop getting lost on your way to the bathroom. Don’t worry, I won’t make you try to find your own way back to the suite. I’ll be escorting you. We’re almost at the ballroom now.”

  The bass thump grew louder and Julia mentally reached inside, giving her party-starter core a poke.

  Nothing.

  No reaction.

  Her stomach did a small, familiar roll of anxiety. Where was it? Why couldn’t she get going? Trying something different, she threw more swing into her hips, more attitude into her stride, consciously aware of the movements, and yet…still nothing.

  Her heart started to pound a little harder, the truth coming abruptly to light. She didn’t want to do this job. She didn’t want to be here. Then how in the hell was she going to pull this off? And why did this whole scenario feel so wrong? So incongruous? She’d felt this way before, she was certain of it, but when? And what did it mean? She frantically searched her brain, trying to grasp tight to the sensation, identify it, figure out what it was that was making her crazy.

  Nelson interrupted her reverie.

  “A circular platform-cum-dance floor has been erected in the center of the room,” he was saying, “and it’s mainly for you, but it can also be opened up to anyone else at the party, at your discretion. Of course, you’re also free to mingle with the crowd and basically do whatever strikes you.” He sent her a glance, and Julia prayed her distress wasn’t obvious on her face. She nodded abruptly.

  “You’re scheduled to perform from midnight to five a.m., with breaks every hour. Basically, I’m your go-to guy. You want the DJ to play different music? Let me know. Anybody getting too far into your personal space? Give me a signal, and I’ll get security involved. I’ll be in the room the entire time. At five o’clock, you’ll be escorted back to your suite. There are toiletries, towels and sleepwear in the closet, and the staff will have a selection of food and drinks delivered to the room prior to five. We’ve given you the use of that room until three p.m., so I’ll come and get you at that point, unless you decide you’d like to leave earlier. If that’s the case, just dial that 7-7-7 number, l
ike I told you before.”

  They came to the end of a long, dimly-lit hallway where a pair of French doors stood closed. Spotlights and lasers flickered on the other side, casting frenetic shadows of many gyrating bodies on the thick linen curtains covering the beveled glass.

  A giant rubber band was squeezing Julia’s chest tighter and tighter. This felt so, so wrong. She wasn’t ready. She couldn’t do this alone.

  She needed Jack, but Jack was nowhere to be found.

  “Kitty?” Nelson’s gaze held a touch of concern. “No problems with what I just told you? Now’s the time to make your last-minute requests, if you have any.”

  Julia shook her head a little too quickly, making the hallway tilt and whirl. “No, no, Nelson. That’s all fine. And I actually do have one request. Could I get a bottle of merlot or shiraz for the suite afterward?” She’d need it after this show. And if there was a full-size bathtub in the ensuite, even better. Because the way things were shaping up, she was going to need to relax and de-stress.

  “Absolutely. I’ll have that taken care of for you.” He glanced at the heavy gold watch on his wrist. “Okay. You ready?”

  Julia nodded. “Yeah.” About as ready as I’ll ever be.

  Nelson spoke into a walkie-talkie. “We’re ready out here, Jim. Give Mr. Sweetham the cue.” He pulled the French doors open just a crack. Julia craned her neck to peer through the opening as best she could, but the room was mostly dark, and the dancing pyrotechnics didn’t allow for a good view. The music faded, and there were the shuffling sounds of a microphone being passed around.

  “Oi, mates!” Mick Sweetham’s thick accent boomed from the speakers. “Are y’having fun yet?”

  Catcalls and cheers answered his question.

  “Good, good. Now, have I got a surprise for you lot. Anybody here ever heard of a bird named Kitty Red?”

  Excited screams filled the room, and a tiny thrill of pleasure rippled through Julia’s belly. She might not be completely ready to do this show, but the crowd was ready for her. And that was a big help. Julia took a deep breath. All she had to do was get through tonight, make Mick Sweetham happy, and then she could deal with the rest of her stupid, mixed-up life afterward.

  Fake it ‘til you make it, baby. That’s all you can do.

  “I see you have, then,” Mick continued. “What would you say if I told you she was here tonight, to party with us?”

  Cataclysmic noise exploded from the other side of the doors. Julia shifted her weight from foot to foot, a knot of anticipation growing in her belly.

  “Yeah!” Mick boomed loudly into the microphone. “Jim, if you will…” Julia’s theme song began to play, the familiar notes wrapping themselves around her tense body. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the one, the only, Kitty Red!”

  Nelson took hold of the door handles and glanced at Julia. “You’re on, Kitty. Knock ’em dead!”

  Julia gave the man a swift smile then struck a pose as the French doors flew open.

  A rush of heat washed over her, the temperature in the ballroom several degrees warmer than the hallway, compounded by the sudden flash of a spotlight that instantly blinded her. A cry of excitement pierced the air, and Julia felt more than saw the movement of bodies and heads as people turned toward the doors.

  The roiling in Julia’s stomach settled by a few degrees with the familiarity of the scene. It was just a job. She could do this. And hell, she might even end up having fun at the same time.

  As her eyes began to adjust to the altered lighting, the muted shine of cell phone screens and camera flashes exploded like tiny stars around her. The spotlight moved, thankfully, illuminating the raised platform in the center of the room, ready for her just as Nelson indicated it would be. A lean, lanky figure stood in the center of the platform, dressed in worn jeans and a leather jacket, his salt-and-pepper hair wildly mussed. Sweetham brought his hands together to applaud, and Julia blew him a kiss. He jokingly clutched his chest, and then brought the mic up to his mouth again.

  “Delicious! Kitty, baby, c’mon up here!” Mick’s voice boomed over the music, and he motioned her toward him with one hand.

  Sweetham’s words jerked her into motion, and she began to dance her way to the platform, the euphoria of the crowd slowly seeping into her skin. The tension that had knotted her shoulders began to loosen, and Julia exhaled forcefully with relief. This job was going to be so much easier to do if she could just relax and not think about…him.

  Pushing Jack’s image out of her mind she focused on the bodies around her. The young and pretty were out in full force, by the looks of things. Scantily clad sweet young things gyrated and grooved with each other, plastic cups holding their poison of choice high in the air. She recognized a number of famous faces in the crowd, actors and musicians, but didn’t stop to ogle. She had a job to focus on.

  Julia made her way through the crowd, playfully stroking hair and skin as she went. Most returned the favor, and the friction of warm flesh against hers sent a huge shiver up her spine.

  Yes, yes. The touch of skin, the heat, the scent of men and women alike—Julia inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the intoxicating perfume. The room smelled like sex already, and a tiny shudder rippled through her. Better. This was a step in the right direction.

  Fake it, fake it, fake it, her brain continued to chant quietly in the back of her head. You can do this.

  She reached the platform and Mick held out a hand to help her up. He bowed to her, dropping a kiss on the back of her hand, and Julia danced around him, shimmying and grinding. A tiny giggle escaped her when she realized she was rubbing her body against that of a rock legend—who could ever have imagined it?—but here she was. And dammit, she was going to knock his socks off. Which, by the look on Sweetham’s face, might not be that hard to do. He grinned madly at her, his gaze locked onto her body.

  Julia gave him a wink, and as the final bars of her song played, she threw in a couple of new moves she’d been practicing. The crowd reacted with an explosion of applause, and Mick reached for her hand again, pulling her close to him.

  “Fuck me, luv,” he said into the microphone, “that was bloody amazing.”

  Julia slid her arms around the man, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” she responded, giving the crowd a naughty grin, “but that was only the beginning.”

  Mick guffawed loudly, giving her a squeeze. “Then you’re gonna give me a heart attack before the night’s over.”

  Julia leaned over to the mic again, gazing out at the partiers with a knowing look. She drew a breath to speak, but a flash of green deep in the crowd caught her attention and the air stuttered out of her lungs. Jack…? No. Couldn’t be. She peered into the darkness, the faces in front of her blurring into an indistinguishable mass, but he wasn’t there. Some kind of crazy lighting fluke, that was all. She just had Jack on the brain. So preoccupied with the idea of him that any little thing brought him to the forefront.

  Suddenly, Julia realized Mick was waiting expectantly for her to speak. She forced her lips into a smile and murmured, “Then I guess it’s a good thing I know how to give mouth-to-mouth.” Her emphasis wasn’t lost on anyone. The guests whooped in agreement, Sweetham’s crow of laughter the loudest.

  “Well, then,” Sweetham said with a chuckle, “the sooner you get started, luv, the sooner I can get that mouth-to-mouth. The stage is yours, Miss Red.” He waved toward the corner, where a DJ sat behind a massive expanse of equipment before turning his attention back to the crowded ballroom. “All right, mates! Let’s get this party started!”

  Mick stepped down off the platform to raucous cheers and applause, but not before embracing Julia one more time. She returned his squeeze, then struck a new pose as the spotlight dimmed and a heavy drum beat began to reverberate through the room.

  The sultry melody began to weave its way around Julia, sliding over her skin like satin ribbons until she recognized the tune and a band of apprehension tightened around her che
st. Damn.

  After spending the day in turns anxious, regretful and inexplicably annoyed and frustrated, it figured that the DJ would choose the worst track possible for her to perform to. The one that had played on Jack’s cell phone while she pole danced for him.

  Dammit, dammit, dammit…

  The spotlight rose on her once again, but Julia’s boots felt as though they were glued to the platform. Memory froze her in place, incarcerating her in a cell constructed of powerful emotions. Fuck, she should have thought of this, should have given Nelson a vetoed list of tracks for the DJ, but the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. Images from that night flickered before her eyes in a kinky slideshow, making her heart thump so violently in her chest she feared it might burst through her rib cage.

  Julia tried to take a deep breath but her lungs were clogged, compressed. Lightheaded, Julia blinked rapidly, watching the room rock slightly before her eyes. She was going to pass out soon if she didn’t do something.

  And it wasn’t just the lack of oxygen giving her pause. Julia suddenly became very aware of every single body in the room. Her lack of movement had the crowd just as confused as she was. Dancers had stopped moving, now simply standing still and watching her, and a disgruntled rumble grew audibly louder.

  Move! her brain shrieked at her. Just do something!

  With an inhuman force of sheer willpower, Julia thrust her hips forward, turning her shaking limbs into something resembling a shimmy.

  A cry of excitement that held a touch of relief swelled in the crowd. Strengthened by the sound, Julia continued to move, her motions jerky and awkward. She couldn’t find the rhythm of the song, couldn’t get her brain to command her limbs. The usual sway and roll of her hips and rear had vanished. She knew she performed horribly, but thankfully most of the guests were well on their way to intoxication at this point and likely couldn’t even see straight.

  Sweat beaded her upper lip and the back of her neck as Julia forced her body to go through the motions. She just had to get through this song and she could have a quick word with Nelson about a short no-play list. Then things would be better.