Show Queen, page 1
Show Queen
Also by Renee Dahlia
Great War
Her Lady's Melody
Her Lady's Fortune
His Lord's Soldier
Kapow
Out of Her League
Rekindled
His Buxom Beauty
Craving His Spotlight
Her Pregnant Rival
Seraph's Burlesque Club
Show Up
Show Off (Coming Soon)
Show Queen (Coming Soon)
Standalone
The Shipwrecked Earl's Bride
Watch for more at Renee Dahlia’s site.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Also By Renee Dahlia
Show Queen (Seraph's Burlesque Club, #3)
About the author
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Author Notes
Acknowledgements
All Books by Renée Dahlia
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Also By Renee Dahlia
Show Queen
Renée Dahlia
They’re real life enemies, but online they’re besties. . .
Stubborn disabled dance club owner meets demisexual property tycoon in this ff enemies to lovers romance.
Seraph's Burlesque Club owner Beth Zendeli takes no nonsense. She hustled to keep her club afloat through lean years and a pandemic, and she doesn’t let her disability define her. But her perfect location has been sold, and the club is being evicted. The new owner is unreasonable, immovable, and irritating. In desperation, she turns to the online friends she talks about plants with. . .
Property investor Liz Whitten has plans for the old building she's just purchased, and she's used to getting her way. But when she meets the leaseholder in real life, a chance statement reveals Beth to be Liz's online friend QueenB. Can she really evict a friend? Especially a friend who is so unexpected and fascinating in real life.
Liz must decide if profits and ideals matter more than friendship, or if it’s worth taking a risk on love.
Tropes:
Enemies to lovers
Seasoned romance (older main characters)
Online friends to IRL lovers
Friends online and enemies IRL
About the author
Renée Dahlia is an unabashed romance reader who loves feisty women and strong, clever men. Her books reflect this, with a side note of awkward humour. Renée has a science degree in physics. When not distracted by the characters fighting for attention in her brain, she works in the horse-racing industry doing data analysis and writing magazine articles. When she isn’t reading or writing, Renée spends her time with her partner and four children, usually watching them play cricket.
For all my online friends who made the pandemic bearable. You are all wonderful.
Foreword
Welcome to SHOW QUEEN, the final book in the Seraph’s Burlesque Club series.
This series consists of three lesbian romances is set in a burlesque club in London. If you love to read about a found family with queer people who thrive, this series has that and more.
If you love online friends but enemies in real life, and older main characters who think they already know what they want in life, then you’ll enjoy this one.
Please note this series is set after the COVID pandemic and assumes everyone is vaccinated. It’s a bit of a post-pandemic fantasy that doesn’t really reflect reality, unfortunately. There is also a car crash death (not on page) and one character who became an amputee in the same crash. There is discussion around the death of a parent.
This book is written in Australian English and some of the spelling and phrases may be unfamiliar to American readers.
If you are keen to keep up to date on new releases and, more importantly, sales, I recommend you sign up to my newsletter, or follow me on social media.
Social Media Links
romance.com.au
BookBub
I hope you enjoy reading this book!
Renée
Chapter 1
Autumn
“Turn, extend your right leg to the front, bend, slide your hands up your leg as you stand again, then flick your hair.” Beth ran through the dance step in slow motion as she talked, then watched everyone in her beginner’s class copy her. Most people who attended dancing lessons at Seraph’s Burlesque Club in London came for fitness and to gain some body confidence. Only a few ended up dancing on the stage here in the evenings. Beth adored all her dancers, and she loved teaching the art of burlesque. It was so good to be back to in-person classes.
“Yes, that’s it. Amy, a little straighter with your leg. Sneha, great balance, and Kate, lovely big stride there. It really emphasises your leg length. Shall we do it again?”
Everyone looked great. “Excellent work. Now we are going to add an arch and twirl. Like this.” Beth talked it through as she demonstrated. “First, step forward with your left leg so both feet are aligned and hold the stance with your legs a little wider than your shoulders, then bend over. Make it hot! Keep your arse sticking out and your spine with a slight arch in it. That’s why we call it an arch! A little tip is to keep your head level with your hips, then rise up slowly back to a stance. Remember burlesque is all about the tease, so don’t be subtle. Be seductive. Once you are upright again, twirl those hips. Understood?”
The class of beginners nodded. “Okay, let’s go.” She smiled as she repeated the movement for everyone. The energy in this room as they all copied her was her favourite part of this job. “That’s a great start. Everyone practise a few more times and I’ll come around the room and help each of you.” She walked around, correcting the dancers’ positions, as everyone tried the move.
“That’s great, everyone. Let’s put it all together, and that’ll do for today. Ready?”
“Yes.” The enthusiastic response made her grin. Running her own burlesque club was her life’s passion, and finally being able to open up and hold dance classes again was such a thrill. Everyone who attended a class at Seraph’s Burlesque Club had to be fully vaccinated against the cursed COVID that’d nearly destroyed her business and killed far too many people.
She walked back to the front of the class. “Okay. Let’s put it together with the music.” She flicked the remote that she had tucked in her pocket and music filled the studio. Dance classes, and the energy of the people who attended, made up for the ongoing worry about the future of the club. Almost. Several weeks ago, she’d learned that the building rented by Seraph’s had been sold to fuck knows who and since then, she’d spent too many nights awake stressing about what might happen now. Likely nothing would change since she hadn’t heard from the real estate company who managed the property. Back when her building had first been listed for sale, she’d done the sums and confirmed her suspicions. She definitely couldn’t afford to buy it. Commercial real estate in London was so far out of her range that it wasn’t even worth attempting to dream about buying it. It hadn’t stopped her staring at the numbers and laughing with despair.
“Excellent work everyone.” She turned off the music again. “If you feel ready, add your hands to the arch movement by stroking them down your thighs as you bend down and up as you rise.” She showed them what she meant and a few people in the class made an oh sound as they understood how it all worked together. She loved it when a dance just clicked for someone. “Okay, let’s go. From the top.”
After the dance class, she had an hour to head upstairs to her flat and eat a very late lunch before she needed to prepare the club for tonight. Her stump ached as she climbed the stairs; it always did after a dance class, but she wasn’t going to give up teaching anytime soon. After she’d lost her leg just below her knee in a car accident, she’d given up performing as a burlesque dancer. She’d invested the insurance payout in her own club and now she watched other dancers perform on her stage. The classes were hell on her stump, but she managed with a decent prosthetic and besides, demonstrating for her students helped keep her fit and connected to dancing. These stairs were the only shitty thing about Seraph’s. There were many things she loved about this old building; the location and being able to live at her place of business were her favourites. The lack of a lift was not one of them.
By the time she’d come inside her flat and made a coffee, she was happy to collapse in front of her computer. Before she opened her email, she logged into the Plant Parent group. It was her guilty pleasure. The group had grown exponentially during the lockdowns as people brought the outdoors inside, and as a long term member she’d signed up to be one of the admins. Maybe someone in the group would decide today was a good day to start a feisty argument over the best way to grow succulents in dim light, or something. Anything to distract her from her problems. The heady days of the ‘most diva plant’ were a distant memory. Obviously it was a maiden hair fern; sh e’d never been able to keep those alive. Perhaps she could start a new thread to keep everyone occupied and entertained. It’d certainly be more fun than worrying. It wasn’t like she had any control over what happened with the building now anyway. Life had taught her to try not to worry about the future. Bad things happened and she could deal with them when they did; or at least, that was the theory. Her brain didn’t always cooperate. Beth gulped down the rest of her coffee and checked her DMs.
NotTheQueen: Can you believe how much everyone is losing their minds over Monty Don’s planned visit?
Fucking hell, she’d forgotten about that. She chuckled at her friend’s comment, then read through some of the group. It’d been a coup to get the famous gardener to join the group for an online chat and many people were really excited. Whoa, a bit too excited in one case. She shared the comment to NotTheQueen.
QueenB: Who knew his hands would cause such a flutter? :D
She didn’t expect an answer right away. NotTheQueen wasn’t often online at the same time as her anymore. She reached up to stretch her shoulders before she cooled down too much after the class.
NotTheQueen had been a much needed social contact during the long lockdowns. It’d never mattered that they didn’t know each other’s real names, they were too busy talking about other stuff. They used to chat in the evenings when Beth couldn’t open Seraph’s and she had nothing better to do, but now everyone was vaccinated and life had returned to, well, it wasn’t normal or the same as before... There wasn’t really a word for how life was now compared to before the pandemic. Occasionally, Beth wondered if they should meet up in real life, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to change their friendship like that.
NotTheQueen: Yeah. I don’t get it. They look like normal man hands to me.
QueenB: Ha! Must be a straight thing?
NotTheQueen: Maybe it’s about competence. He gardens with his hands, and he’s good at it, so...
QueenB: Must be.
NotTheQueen: Admin during the session is going to be a pain. Will you be around for it?
Beth opened her email to check her calendar, even though she knew she’d be downstairs working at Seraph’s given that the online chat with Monty Don was scheduled for 8pm on a Friday night. She could probably log in from the back room to avoid an extra trip up the stairs. If she missed an hour or two, her bar manager Steph would easily be able to cope. Beth employed a great collection of people and they’d easily be able to run Seraph’s without her involvement if needed. The issue was that Beth didn’t like to be away from her club, her baby, for too long. It probably made her a pain in the arse of a boss, always hovering around everyone, but too bad. The club was hers. It was her financial wellbeing on the line every night, and more than that, she just bloody loved it there.
QueenB: Yeah, I’ll be there.
NotTheQueen: Awesome. Let’s have a drink and watch the shenanigans.
There was a new email in her inbox from an address she didn’t know. She read it quickly. No. Fucking no. An eviction notice. The new owner hadn’t wasted any time in throwing her out. Fucking hell. So much for trying not to stress about worst case scenarios. They’d just become incredibly real.
Beth ignored NotTheQueen’s message and leaned back in her chair with her eyes shut. What now? She needed a plan. She really didn’t need the added stress of an eviction notice... Right after they’d spent all that lovely COVID grant money on a renovation. There had to be something she could do... She drummed her fingers on the desk for a while, staring past her computer screen at the miniature weeping fig that sat on the far corner of the desk. What to do? She picked up her coffee for another sip only to discover she’d already drunk it all. Eventually, inspiration filtered through the panic, and she picked up her phone and called her IT specialist.
“Ben. How good are you at cyber stalking?”
“Good afternoon Beth.”
“Answer the question.” Beth heard her tone and breathed in and out a few times. There was no need to take out her stress on her highly competent employee. “I’m sorry. Good afternoon.”
“Tell me the problem.” To his credit, he ignored her nonsense.
“Right. You know how the building was sold recently?”
“Yeah?”
“Um, I want to talk to the new owner without lawyers. Is it possible to find out who bought the building?”
“What’s going on?”
Each of her team at Seraph’s were her family, and family stuck by each other. She whispered the truth. “They want to end our lease.”
“And you want to talk to the new owner without lawyers getting in the way, and convince them otherwise?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a good plan. Seraph’s is a booming business. I’ll see what I can find out.”
Beth’s hands trembled a little. “Thanks. I just hope the new owner isn’t some bigot, because—”
“—then we are all screwed.” Ben understood. Seraph’s wasn’t just a club, it was a safe space for everyone who worked there. “It’ll be okay. We’ll find a new place.”
Beth wished she had the same optimism. Space in London was always at a premium, even after so many businesses had gone under during the lockdowns. She’d been so lucky to find this building. It was close to a tube station and on a busy road with lots of foot traffic and had zoning to allow her to stay open until after midnight most nights of the week.
“Thanks Ben. I appreciate it.” She ended the call and deliberately clicked away from her emails.
NotTheQueen: For Monty Don, we’ll have to drink Full Monty’s – vodka and Galliano over ice with grated ginger. You keen?
QueenB: That does sound good. How long until Friday?
NotTheQueen: Why? You want to start now? :D
QueenB: It’s been a shit day
NotTheQueen: Oh no. What happened?
QueenB: Landlady issued an eviction notice
NotTheQueen: Crap. Do you need some financial help? I can send you some names of people to talk to.
QueenB: Thanks. No, it’s not about money. Building has a new owner, so it’s out of my hands
NotTheQueen: Blast. It happens though.
QueenB: Yeah. Still sucks.
NotTheQueen: It does.
QueenB: Yeah
If Beth had anything to do with it, she wouldn’t be moving. Perhaps it was a little wild, but she wanted to hunt down the new owner and convince them to let her stay. She was a good tenant.
Beth logged out before she was tempted to re-read that damned email again. Nothing good would come from stressing about it, and she needed to get downstairs and set up the kitchen for tonight.
Chapter 2
Liz didn’t appreciate the little twinge of guilt at her friend’s comment about her landlady. It meant nothing that she’d used landlady not landlord; Beth often switched out gendered words away from the masculine, using either feminine or neutral terms instead, just to make the point to people. It was just timing; plenty of buildings were bought and sold every day and owners often requested their tenants move after a sale had gone through. She ought to know, she’d just had her lawyers send out a similar request to the business occupying her latest purchase. Her fiftieth property, a number which shouldn’t matter in a nearly thirty-year career investing in property, but in a couple of months, she’d be fifty and the coincidence seemed designed to remind her of her age.
She was proud of herself, proud that she’d made it this far through life on her own skills. There’d been a few setbacks along the way, and yet, here she was. Successful and thriving.
Most likely QueenB referred to her residential place of rent, and besides, they were online friends, QueenB could be anywhere in the world. With that justification, Liz pushed away the niggling coincidence.
NotTheQueen: If you need any help, just reach out
She didn’t expect to get an answer. It was just one of those things that people said to send comfort to friends, and QueenB was her friend. Not one of her closest friends—like Gita or Sreesha—just someone she could happily spend an hour or two with sharing memes and gifs as they both volunteered as admins on the Plant Parent group. When she’d first agreed to help out, she’d had no clue that people could get so uptight and argumentative over their opinions on indoor plants.
