The Naughty List Bundle - Kylie Adams [288]
Determination masking her churning nervousness, Georgia thrust the curtain aside and made an entrance onto the stage. She had every intention of ignoring Jordan completely.
Of course, that was before he fell off his chair.
He took one look at her, dropped his cola and toppled. Luckily no one seemed to pay him any mind as he hauled himself back up and into his seat.
Georgia deliberately turned her back on him—and heard a roar of applause along with some loud wolf whistles, likely because the bottom of her costume was no more than a thong. Embarrassment washed over her, so hot she felt light-headed and couldn’t see beyond the fog of shame. She knew she was blushing. Everywhere. The dance steps that normally came so easily to her now felt forced and awkward; she had to concentrate hard to keep to her rhythm.
At least, she told herself as she executed a high kick, her top was more concealing. It had midlength sleeves and a V-shaped neck with lapels. The whole outfit was stark white, including the stupid little hat that Bill had insisted on. She wore white gloves, white high-heel sandals, and garters with black velvet ribbons.
It looked cheesy, like something out of a fetish catalogue. But already money landed at the front of the stage. Georgia moved farther back, being careful not to lose her footing on the scattering of bills.
By the time she finished her number, she figured there had to be a good three hundred dollars at her feet. Not bad for a night’s pay. She almost smiled. Almost.
And then she accidentally caught Jordan’s eye.
He looked livid, with his eyes sort of red and unfocused. Georgia frowned at him. How such a dominating, stubborn, pushy man could have such nice relatives was beyond her.
With one last bow, she turned and ducked behind the curtain. Her changing room was really a cleaning closet overflowing with supplies. Next to her street clothes hanging on a metal hook, rested a mildewy mop and several stained rags. One bare bench, raw enough to leave splinters in her behind if she was ever foolish enough to sit on it, occupied the space next to the door.
Georgia tossed the foolish hat aside, then leaned against the wall and struggled to catch her breath. Dancing, even at the bar, always left her exuberant. She loved to dance, to feel her movements become fluid like the music. And thanks to Jordan, she no longer had to go on stage in a state of exhaustion. He and his family had forced so much help on her, had been so supportive and friendly and accepting, she’d gotten plenty of rest the past few weeks.
But while she was grateful, she was also resentful because it was Jordan’s fault that she hesitated to answer tonight’s screaming applause with an encore. She just couldn’t make herself go back out there. Not with Jordan watching.
Bill pounded on her door. “Front and center, damn it! They’re calling for you.”
Georgia stared at the closed door. She could probably convince Bill that it was better to leave them wanting more….
Then Jordan’s voice intruded. “If she doesn’t want to go back out there, then leave her alone.”
She gasped in outrage. How dare he confront her boss? Was he trying to get her fired?
She answered her own question with an obvious, resounding yes. Not once had Jordan tried to hide his disdain of The Swine. This time, however, he’d stepped completely over the line.
The door bounced hard against the wall when she threw it open. Both Jordan and Bill jumped, but Georgia stomped right past them to the steps leading up on stage. It was uncanny, but she could actually feel the searing heat of Jordan’s gaze on her exposed rump.
The second she opened the curtain, the men bellowed their appreciation. More money came flying her way and Georgia, with