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the other waitresses. She couldn’t stand to listen to or look at her. Amy’s high-pitched, whiny voice grated on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard and her DDD silicone boobs constantly spilled over the top of her low-cut blouse, courtesy of her push-up bra. Hey, Victoria’s Secret…don’t sell push-up bras in DDD. Please. It’s just not necessary.
    “Coming! Jesus, a little privacy, please.”
    “Sorry, babe, but you’re late. Frankie’s freakin’ the fuck out. Wanted to come in here after you himself.”
    “Christ. I’m coming.” She heard the restroom door close, indicating Amy had left. Analise pulled herself together, left the stall and gave one last cursory look in the mirror. She didn’t look green, so there was that at least.
    On the way out of the restroom, she bumped into Frankie. She took a slight step back, cursing herself for her queasiness when it came to touching people.
    “You okay, Ana?”
    Eff me . Could no one remember her goddamned name?
    “I’m just fine, Frankie. Sorry for worrying you. I apologize for starting my set late.” She tried to scoot by him, but he reached out, cupping her cheek in his clammy hand. Her stomach rolled.
    “No problem, Ana. I was more concerned about you. You’ve been in there quite a while.”
    She didn’t think she’d been in the restroom that long. Guess time got away from her. She forced herself not to recoil from his touch, even though it made her skin crawl. He was standing a bit too close for her comfort, but this was what she’d wanted. If he tried to kiss her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to refrain from vomiting, especially since her stomach was still doing somersaults.
    “Thank you. I appreciate your concern. I’ll be sure to play a few minutes late.” She waited a beat before stepping back. Surely that was an appropriate amount of time to keep suspicions at bay, avoiding the undoing of the work she’d put into him for the last several days.
    “Well, I’d best get started.” He let her go without protest, calling good luck behind her.
    As Analise made her way to the stage for her second night, she couldn’t help the feeling of foreboding that rolled over her. It was the same one she felt the last three nights she’d stepped foot in Dragonfly. It was unlike any other feeling she’d had. This time, something in her life was about to monumentally change.
    She just wasn’t sure if it was going to be good…or bad.

 
    C hapter 7
     
    Damian
     
    He’d arrived at the club much earlier in the evening than anticipated. Rom tagged along, albeit reluctantly. Damian was bound and determined to get the guy laid. Although he wasn’t quite sure why, once again he came in through the main entrance versus the private entrance at the back of the building.
    He’d no sooner set foot in the building when the most sensuous sound he’d ever heard caressed every single nerve ending in his body like a gentle lover. What was that? Or better yet… who was that?
    Taking a few steps forward, he searched for the voice that set his blood on fire. After just moments, his eyes landed on the incredibly gorgeous creature on center stage.
    Fuck me . She’s mine .
    His heart raced as he drank in her exquisite beauty. Her straight, shoulder length chocolate hair swung loosely around her perfect oval-shaped face. Her eyes were closed tightly as she poured her heart and soul into the song. And it pissed him off. He wanted to see their color. He wanted to gaze into her soul.
    She wore a curve-hugging, but conservative, short black dress with matching heels. But all he could think about was what lay underneath. He wanted to rip the somber dress from her body and uncover her secrets.
    It was her . The one woman who just the other day he’d thought he wasn’t ready for. The one woman he’d foolishly and selfishly told himself he didn’t want to find yet.
    Everything now made perfect sense. Since stepping foot in Milwaukee months ago, a hazy premonition had