Rum & Coke Read online

  Contents

  Rum & Coke

  Author Note

  1. Vinny

  2. Tessa

  3. Vinny

  4. Tessa

  5. Vinny

  6. Tessa

  7. Vinny

  8. Tessa

  9. Vinny

  10. Tessa

  11. Vinny

  12. Tessa

  13. Vinny

  14. Tessa

  15. Vinny

  16. Tessa

  17. Vinny

  18. Tessa

  19. Vinny

  20. Tessa

  21. Vinny

  22. Tessa

  23. Vinny

  24. Tessa

  25. Vinny

  26. Tessa

  27. Vinny

  28. Tessa

  29. Vinny

  30. Tessa

  31. Vinny

  32. Tessa

  33. Vinny

  34. Tessa

  35. Vinny

  Epilogue

  Note From The Author

  Acknowledgments

  Books By Kimberly Knight

  About the Author

  A Saddles & Racks Novel, #4

  No portion of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any print or electronic form without permission.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, any places, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The subject matter is not appropriate for minors. Please note this novel contains profanity, explicit sexual situations, and alcohol consumption.

  Copyright © 2018 Kimberly Knight

  Published by Knight Publishing & Design, LLC

  Cover art © Okay Creations

  Cover Photographer © by Sara Eirew Photographer

  Formatting © by Mermaid Publishing House

  All rights reserved.

  To Verlene Landon:

  Thank you for your continued support of this series and your friendship.

  *Please note that you can read this book as a standalone. However, it is recommended that you read it after the first three books to avoid any spoilers.*

  Present Day

  “We’ll always have the Dodgers.”

  I took a sip of the rum and Coke I was nursing at the hotel’s bar. I should have been drinking something stronger than rum, or I should have been drinking the 151 proof version that would fuck me up. However, Bacardi had discontinued it, and I was left drowning my sorrows with my usual eighty proof drink of choice even though nothing was going to prepare me for today. Not even alcohol.

  Especially since it was her wedding day.

  When I got the invitation on my doorstep last night, my world came to a screeching halt. Three and half months ago, she’d left me. One minute we’d just started dating, and the next minute she was moving in with the asshole. I tried to go talk to her, but I was never allowed. He lived in a gated community, and she told me on the phone that she was with him of her own free will.

  Nothing added up, but in the end, I couldn’t get her back.

  “We’ll always have the Dodgers.” Those were the last five words Tessa ever spoke to me. The truth was, we didn’t have the Dodgers. She hated the Dodgers, and I knew it was code— an S.O.S.—but I couldn’t get to her. Couldn’t confirm if it was a cry for help because I was never able to see her again.

  I tried.

  Now, she was marrying the guy, and I felt as though I was living in some sort of twilight zone. The funny thing was that I had been planning to take a break from escorting for Tessa. I wanted to see where things were headed with her because she was the first and only woman I’d ever loved. If she were to come back to me, I’d give it all up right now and whisk her away.

  If I could.

  But I couldn’t.

  I drained the rest of my drink and then went in search of the room that would feel more like a coffin to me because watching Tessa walk down the aisle was going to be the death of me. My heart was already breaking, and I hadn’t even seen her yet. Just the mere thought of her taking someone else’s last name was enough to put a crack in my heart, shatter it into a million fucking pieces and prevent me from ever being whole again.

  Why did I even come? Why did I get out of bed this morning? Why did I drive the forty minutes to Henderson and get out of my car? And why was I about to walk into my worst nightmare?

  All the questions had the same answer: Because I loved her.

  I loved Tessa enough to put her happiness before mine and let her go because now I understood that she did leave me on her own. Maybe I’d never move on. Maybe I’d find someone new and eventually quit escorting and start a family. Maybe. But truthfully, after today, I’d never open my heart to anyone else.

  When I found where the wedding was being held, I realized it wasn't in a room. It was a courtyard, and even though I wasn’t going to feel as though I was suffocating, the hundreds of flowers scattered around, and the altar in the center, taunted me. I made sure to get a seat in the back by the door to the hotel in case I couldn’t handle it and needed to leave.

  I pulled a flask of rum from my black suit jacket and took a swig as people started to take their seats. I needed more alcohol to numb the pain. At any moment, the wedding would start. Tessa was going to walk in on her father’s arm, and he’d give her away.

  And no one would know that he wasn’t the only one giving her away.

  Six Months Prior …

  The beat of the music thumped in my ears. I was on autopilot as I stared at the people in front of me who were cast in a red hue from the lighting. There was one group of guys who were regulars; every day after they got off work at a construction site, Brent and his co-workers would come in for a few beers. Brent was more my regular than the other guys because he was the one who always wanted a lap dance from me before he headed home. It had been like that for as long as I’d been working at Red Diamond, and I’d heard from the other girls that the group had frequented RD for a few years. I wasn’t complaining, because Brent was a good tipper. Plus, he was easy on the eyes with his buzzed head of dark hair, his green eyes, and his rock hard body.

  As I danced, all I could think about was that my kid was sick again, and that meant he was missing school and important therapy time. It was hard being a single mother, and I’d never planned on struggling in life. Never planned on getting pregnant before marriage.

  But it happened.

  Five years ago, I found myself knocked up after a one-night stand. I was that person. The one who was barely twenty-one and got drunk, slept with a Marine during Fleet Week in San Francisco, and was left to raise a baby on her own. I was able to track Scott down after I found out I was pregnant but, to make matters worse, he’d died in combat before I could tell him I was carrying his child. Since he didn’t know, that meant the military didn’t know and, therefore, all medical bills were on me and only me. All expenses were my burden alone, and now that I was a dancer, the club didn’t offer benefits because we were contract hires.

  I lived in San Francisco at the time, struggling to survive without a child even though I worked at the front desk of one of the high-end hotels. It only got worse when I had Colton. Three months after he was born, we moved in with my parents. We were there for three years before I couldn’t take living under their control any longer. So, my son and I moved to Las Vegas because I’d heard the cost of living was cheaper.

  Not long after we relocated, Colton was diagnosed with autism. Medical bills and his specialized preschool were covered by the state, but not his therapy. I had every intention of working the front desk at one of the hotels on the Strip when I’d moved, but so did a lot of people.
As a result, when I met my neighbor who worked at Red Diamond, I decided to become a stripper. I needed the money and had no other options. Stripping was the only way for me to make ends meet.

  At first, I thought I was dealt a shitty hand, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. Colton was my life, my world, the reason I got out of bed each morning.

  Even in the dimly lit club saturated with red lights, red walls, and red plush seating, I’d always catch my boss, Sebastian, watching me during several of my sets from his office overlooking the stage. It made me nervous, but I figured he did it to make sure the girls were doing their jobs and getting people to stay as long as possible—and ordering several drinks.

  None of the girls I worked with actually loved stripping, including me. We did it for the money, plain and simple. And honestly, if the pay and hours weren’t so good, I would have left a long time ago. Every week I dealt with drunks trying to cop a feel during a private dance, drinks accidentally being spilled on me, or guys who felt they didn’t need to pay a dime and only wanted a free show.

  As I continued to sway my hips, doing the same routine I always did, I smiled at the men and women watching me, anticipating the moment I would untie my top and show them what they came for. I was on autopilot. You could say I was acting in a way.

  Brent stuck a bill into my G-string. “Lap dance?” It was the same request every Thursday and Friday. Brent would wait until it was my last set and then want his lap dance for the road. I didn’t know his story, but at least he was cute and not like a lot of the men who smelled of booze and cigarettes with beer bellies.

  I grinned. “Meet you in five.”

  After I finished the lap dance for Brent, I was in the dressing room, changing into my clothes to go home, when Honey, one of our managers, came into the room.

  “Ladies, listen up.” Honey closed the door behind her, and all seven of us turned and looked at her. She kind of reminded me of Dolly Parton in a way. She didn’t have the southern drawl, but her rack and blonde hair were both huge. “Anyone up for making a little extra tonight? I got a call from a friend, and there’s a bachelor party that needs a girl.”

  There were groans all around. After hours of being on display, all we wanted to do was go home and sleep. Most of the girls were married and wanted to get home to their husbands and family, and I wanted to get home to Colton. No one wanted to work more than what we needed to (even if the money was good), but given all the therapy bills on top of the standard living bills, I needed the extra cash. I decided to take the extra money because I’d make more in an hour stripping than I’d owe the sitter to stay extra.

  “I’ll take it.”

  Honey smiled and walked toward me. She handed me a small piece of white paper. “Here’s the address.”

  I sighed as I took the paper. Bachelor parties were the worst. All the guys assumed we wanted to sleep with them as though it was written in the rules or something.

  Her grin widened, and I started to think she didn’t have our best interest in mind after all. “It’s not your typical bachelor party, Scarlett,” she stated, using my stage name and the one I used around the club. “It’s for a male escort.”

  I balked then blinked. Then blinked again. “A male escort?”

  “One of the guys from Saddles & Racks is gettin’ married.”

  “One of the guys from Saddles & Racks is getting married?” I repeated, not believing I’d heard her correctly. I’d heard of S&R around the club because women talked. Some wanted to join the company, and I’d thought about it too, but everyone knew what really went on behind closed doors and that wasn’t for me.

  “A male escort is settling down?” Sommer asked from across the room.

  “I don’t know all the details except they need a girl to dance for about thirty minutes. It’s a surprise party.”

  “Why would a guy want to see tits at his bachelor party when he sees them as his job?” Crystal asked. Crystal, aka Melony, was my neighbor, the one who got me the job. She was also my best friend. And she had a point.

  “I didn’t ask questions,” Honey stated. “It’s a job, and it pays five hundred.” She turned back to me. “Do you want it or not?”

  “Yes. Of course.” At least this way I didn’t think the guys would be horny and looking to score since they did that every day—despite what they said in public.

  “Perfect. Be at the address by eight.” Honey patted me on the shoulder and then left to check the floor.

  The moment I stepped up to my apartment door, I heard the episode of PAW Patrol. It was the same episode that had been on repeat for the last month. That was my life. Every day. All day. The only break from PAW Patrol was when there was a San Francisco Giants baseball game on. Colton was obsessed with the team and the game itself. He would watch the same game over and over until he knew what the next play would be inside and out. That was one obsession I enjoyed. Growing up in San Francisco, I was a diehard fan, going back to their Candlestick days. Now that I lived in Vegas, I only watched them on TV. That was how Colton became obsessed.

  But the current season hadn’t started yet, so it was PAW Patrol and nothing else.

  After unlocking the door, I opened it to see my son sitting on the floor in front of the TV, a baseball in his hands as he stared at the cartoon. My gaze moved to the couch where my sitter and neighbor, Sophia, sat reading. I entered, and we smiled at each other.

  “Good day?” I asked, closing the door behind me.

  Sophia was a sweet old lady who I’d first turned to when I moved into the apartment complex. I’d run out of milk the first week I lived here. It was before I found the job at Red Diamond and I had no money to my name because it went to our first month’s rent. She took me under her wing, cooking dinner for Colton and me each night. She was the one who suggested I talk to our other neighbor, Melony, because she worked as a stripper and made a lot of money. When I worked at RD, Sophia took care of Colton. She didn’t mind that I had to work Friday and Saturday nights until early the following mornings. She was amazing. I loved her and would be lost without her.

  “It was.” She smiled.

  “Does he still have a fever?” I asked as I put my keys and purse on the table near the door.

  “No. Broke a few hours ago, and I think he’s feeling better.”

  “That’s good to hear.” I bent down beside him, but he didn’t turn, so I moved in front of him and compressed his ears with both hands until he looked up at me with his steel-blue eyes. “Hey, Slugger. Want pizza for dinner?” It was generally pretty difficult to get Colton’s attention, and eye contact was out of the question, but when I used the gentle compressions, it always brought his attention to me.

  He hummed in agreement and rocked back a little as he flapped his hands in excitement.

  I smiled. “I’ll make sure it’s cheese, your favorite.”

  My gaze met Sophia’s again as I stood. “I hate to ask, but I was offered an extra gig for tonight.”

  “Oh, sweetie. I don’t mind.”

  I smiled up at her. “Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver.”

  I arrived at the address right on time.

  I’d assumed it was going to be a house, but when I pulled into the parking lot of a building with party style buses out front, I realized I was wrong. The handful of times I’d done bachelor parties, they were held at either a house or a hotel room. This was obviously different. I wasn’t sure if I should go inside or what, so I stayed in my car until I saw a group of guys walk out of the double doors of the building. They were laughing and high-fiving like a bunch of frat guys. Shit. One or more of them was definitely going to try to hook up with me. Of course, I wouldn’t do it. I was tired and just wanted to get my time done, get my five hundred dollars, and go home.

  After taking a deep breath, I grabbed my purse and stepped out of my car. When I beeped the car alarm, it caused the group of four guys to turn and look in my direction. Out of nowhere, butterflies entered my belly, and my nerves
skyrocketed. This wasn’t the first time I had approached a group of guys in next to no clothing—a black halter top dress over a sparkly red bikini, black fishnet stockings, and black stilettos—but it felt as though it was. Maybe it was because they were male escorts and saw naked women all the time. Would they judge me? Compare me to all the women they dated? I felt as though they would.

  I didn’t think I was bad looking. Hell, Red Diamond didn’t hire ugly women, but what if these guys preferred blondes? What if the guy getting married wanted a chick with green eyes? What if he wanted a girl with bigger boobs than mine? I tried to shake off my insecurities as I moved closer, telling myself that these guys liked any and all women—they were escorts. It didn’t matter because I was only entertainment and not going to a dating interview. They had hired a stripper, and I was a stripper.

  “Is this her?” one of the guys asked as I stepped within a few feet of the group.

  I wasn’t sure which one it was, but a guy stepped forward and asked, “Are you from Red Diamond?”

  “Yes, I’m Tessa.” I stuck out my hand with a warm smile. I didn’t know why I said my real name because usually when it came to an RD gig, I used Scarlett. It just slipped out.

  The guy smiled back and took my hand in his. “I’m Paul. This is Bradley, Vinny, and Nick.”