L. Marie Adeline- S.E.C.R.E.T

Adam’s apple bob. At three feet away, I placed a gloved nger between my teeth and
pulled o my glove with one tug. I tossed it over my shoulder as the crowd behind me
erupted. Then I pulled o the other glove, this time spinning it in my hand. Inches from
Pierre, who was now grinning, I reached out and gently slapped him with it, once,
twice.
“I hear you’re a bad, bad boy,” I whispered, in that same breathy voice I had used on
Jesse.
“You heard right,” he said. He hungrily took me in and then reached out for my waist,
as though I belonged to him. As my Prince Charming, when he had claimed me it was
part of the role, the fantasy. But his grasp now felt brutish, unkind.
Angela stepped in and scolded him. “Ah, ah, ah. She’s not yours, mister. Remember
that.”
All eyes were on me, even though the other girls had reassembled in a line and were
tapping out a goofy number on their way back to the stage. I broke the spell by turning
around. With my back to Pierre, I did a little burlesque wiggle, curling my body like
smoke in front of him for the edication of the audience. Finally, the spotlight moved
away from us and back to the action onstage, giving Pierre the opportunity to gather
the strings of my bodice as though he had me on a leash. With a yank, he tugged me
backwards to him, his mouth hovering at my ear.
“I thought I’d never see you again, Cassie.”
My eyes shot open behind my mask. “How—?”
“Your bracelet. I recognized my charm.”
“You mean my charm,” I said.
“I like you better as a brunette,” he said.
I turned around quickly. My breasts brushed his chest. My heels put us almost eye to
eye. I felt a sexy toughness swell inside me.
“Well, I liked you better as Prince Charming,” I said. I might have been wearing a
mask, but I could nally see beneath his. While mine hid a few common fears and
insecurities, below his surface I sensed menace; women served a purpose, and when he
was done with them, he would discard them. He was lovely for a fantasy night, but
beyond that, I couldn’t imagine a life at his side.
“I’m not yours,” I whispered. “If anything, it’s the other way around.”
Just as the spotlight found us again, Pierre reached a hand to my cleavage and tugged
it open. He dropped dozens of gold coins down the front of my bodice, letting a few
tinkle to the oor for eect. It shocked me and left me feeling icy cold. The crowd
seemed unsure whether to clap or to boo Pierre. The spotlight turned to the stage again,
where the ladies were doing their high-kick finale.
“Let go of her,” said a voice in the dark. “Or I’ll kick you hard in the teeth.”
I saw a gure approaching, silhouetted by the lights. But I didn’t need some man
coming to my rescue. I jerked my bodice out of Pierre’s grasp and smacked backwards
into Will Foret, who placed a warm hand on my waist to steady me.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I said. The snare drums were drawing the finale number to a close.