Just beneath his perch, several women moved sinuously, rocking their hips in an invitation to mate.
Calm again, she tuned in to the music. She liked it—the hard, repetitive beat; the pounding of drums; the rough, metallic scream of guitar. And she liked the way different dancers chose to move to it. Arms in the air, arms cocked like a boxer’s with hands fisted, elbows jabbing, feet planted, feet lifting.
“Wow. Just wow.” Julie set martini glasses filled with pink liquid on the table before she sat. “I nearly spilled these coming back, which would have bummed. They’re eight dollars each.”
“Alcoholic beverages make up the biggest profit margin in clubs and bars.”
“I guess. But they’re good. I drank a little of mine, and it’s like
“Why would they buy us drinks?”
“Duh. We’re hot, we’re available. Drink some, Liz, and let’s get out there and show our stuff.”
Obediently, Elizabeth sipped. “It’s good.” Testing, she took another sip. “And it’s very pretty.”
“I want to get lit and loose! Hey, I love this song. Time to shake it.”
Once again, Julie grabbed Elizabeth’s hand.
When the crowd closed in around her, Elizabeth shut her eyes. Just the music, she thought. Just the music.
“Hey, nice moves.”
Cautiously, Elizabeth opened her eyes again, concentrated on Julie. “What?”
“I was afraid you’d be dorky, you know. But you’ve got moves. You can dance,” Julie elaborated.
“Oh. The music’s tribal and designed to stimulate. It’s simply a matter of coordinating legs and hips. And mimicry. I’ve watched others dance a lot.”
“Whatever you say, Liz.”
Elizabeth liked moving her hips. Like the heels, it made her feel powerful, and the way the dress rubbed her skin added a sexual element. The lights made everything surreal, and the music itself seemed to swallow all.
Her discomfort with the crowd eased, so when Julie bumped hips with her, she laughed and meant it.
They danced, and danced more. Back at their tiny table, they drank Cosmos, and when a waitress came by, Elizabeth carelessly ordered more.
“The dancing makes me thirsty,” she said to Julie.
“I’ve got a nice buzz going already. And that guy over there is totally checking us out. No, don’t look!”
“How can I see him if I don’t look?”
“Take my word, he’s totally cute. I’m going to give him the eye and the hair toss in a second, then you, like sort of really casual, turn in your chair. He’s got blond hair, kind of curly. He’s wearing a tight white T-shirt and a black jacket with jeans.”
“Oh, yes, I saw him before, over by the bar. He was talking to a woman. She had long, blond hair and wore a bright pink dress that showed a lot of cleavage. He has a gold hoop earring in his left ear, and a gold ring on the middle finger of his right hand.”
“Jesus, do you actually have eyes in the back of your head like my mom used to say she did? How do you know when you haven’t looked?”
“I saw him, over by the bar,” Elizabeth repeated. “I noticed him because the blond woman seemed very angry with him. And I remember because I have an eidetic memory.”
“Is it fatal?”
“No, it’s not a disease or condition. Oh.” Flushing a little, Elizabeth hunched her shoulders. “You were joking. It’s commonly called a photographic memory, but that’s not accurate, as it’s more than visual.”
“Whatever. Get ready.”
But Elizabeth was more interested in Julie—the eye, which included a tipped head, slow, secretive smile and a shift of the eyes from under the lashes. This was followed by a quick shake and toss of the head that lifted Julie’s hair and had it drifting down again.
Was it innate? Was it learned behavior? Some combination of both? In any case, Elizabeth thought she could emulate it, though she no longer had hair to toss.
“Message received. Oh, he’s got such an adorable smile. Oh my God, he’s coming over. He’s like actually coming over.”
“But you wanted him to. That’s why you … sent the message.”
“Yeah, but—I bet he’s at least twenty-four. I bet. Follow my lead.”
“Excuse me?”
Elizabeth looked up as Julie did but didn’t risk the smile. She’d need to practice first.
“I wonder if you can help me with something.”
Julie executed a modified hair toss. “Maybe.”
“I’m worried my memory is failing because I never forget a beautiful woman, but I can’t recall either of you. Tell me you haven’t been here before.”
“First time.”
“Ah, that explains it.”
“I guess you’re here a lot.”
“Every night. It’s my club—that is,” he said with a dazzling smile, “I have an interest in it.”
“You’re one of the Volkovs?” Elizabeth spoke without thinking, then felt the heat rise as he turned sizzling blue eyes on her.
“Alex Gurevich. A cousin.”
“Julie Masters.” Julie offered a hand, which Alex took, kissed stylishly on the knuckles. “And my friend Liz.”
“Welcome to Warehouse 12. You’re enjoying yourselves?”
“The music’s great.”
When the waitress came with the drinks, Alex plucked the tab off the tray. “Beautiful women who come to my club for the first time aren’t allowed to buy their own drinks.”
Under the table, Julie nudged Elizabeth’s foot while she beamed at Alex. “Then you’ll have to join us.”
“I’d love to.” He murmured something to the waitress. “Are you visiting Chicago?”
“Born and bred,” Julie told him, taking a long swallow of her drink. “Both of us. We’re home for the summer. We’re at Harvard.”
“Harvard?” His head cocked; his eyes dazzled. “Beautiful and smart. I’m half in love already. If you can dance, I’m lost.”
Julie took another drink. “You’re going to need a map.”
He laughed, held out his hands. Julie took one, rose.
“Come on, Liz. Let’s show him how a couple of Harvard girls get down.”
“Oh, but he wants to dance with you.”
“Both.” Alex kept his extended hand out. “Which makes me the luckiest man in the room.”
She started to decline, but Julie gave her another version of the eye behind Alex’s back, which involved a lot of rolling, eyebrow wiggling, grimacing. So she took his hand.
He wasn’t actually asking her to dance, but Elizabeth gave him credit for manners when he could have left her sitting alone at the table. She did her best to join in without getting in the way. It didn’t matter, she loved dancing. She loved the music. She loved the noise rising around her, the movements, the smells.
When she smiled it wasn’t practiced, just a natural curve of her lips. Alex sent her a wink and a grin as he laid his hands on Julie’s hips.
Then he lifted his chin in a signal to someone behind her.
Even as she turned to look, someone took her hand, gave her a quick spin that nearly toppled her on her heels.
“As always, my cousin is greedy. He takes two while I have none.” Russia flowed exotically through the voice. “Unless you take pity and dance with me.”
“I—”
“Don’t say no, pretty lady.” He drew her close for a sway. “Just a dance.”
She could only stare up at him. He was tall, his body hard and firm against her. Where Alex was bright, he was dark—the long wave of his hair, eyes that snapped nearly black against tawny skin. As he smiled at her,
