Show Off, page 4
“What are you doing here?”
“Charlie.” Beth’s warning rushed right past her, like a flashing sign that she deliberately ignored. What was Elle doing here with Beth? Had she come to find out why Charlie had rejected her last night? That’d never bothered her before. If she’d come here to get some sort of apology from Charlie...
Charlie refused to sigh in front of Elle and Beth. The weakness inside her was no one else’s business, and she’d bloody well fix it herself. Stubbornness was a strength that she valued in herself. That, and independence and an ability to solve her own problems. Growing up on different television sets had instilled those qualities in her.
“Reiko recommended me to Beth for the redesign.”
“We are doing a redesign? Since when?”
Beth frowned in her direction. “You might be the MC, Charlie, but this is my business and I’ll run it how I like.”
“Of course.” With some effort, Charlie ducked her gaze low. She had enough good sense not to spit on the hand that provided her dream job—dream, ha, that coated her tongue in a bitter flavour, as if she’d just bitten into a bad apple. All pretty on the outside and floury, bitter, and rotten on the inside. “What do you need from me?”
“Nothing at this stage.” Beth dismissed her with a glance that left the rest unsaid—that Beth had plenty to say to her once they were alone.
“Okay. Hi Elle. Good luck.” Charlie brushed past them, down the hallway, and threw her bag into her locker. In an hour, she had a class with some beginner burlesque dancers, and after that, a woman had booked a photography session.
During the pandemic, they’d had a massive uptick in random people who wanted to dress up in burlesque outfits and have professional photos taken. It’d been an accidental bonus for the business. Their old stage technician, Arya, had moved home with her parents when the first lockdown hit and Beth hadn’t planned to replace Arya because there was no need for a stage tech when they couldn’t open to the public.
One afternoon, Beth had arrived with Ben at her side. She’d met him online and employed him as their new tech. Typical Beth, and she still hadn’t mentioned what they were doing online when they met. Ben had instantly proved he had a superior ability with all things technical and was a brilliant photographer to boot. He didn’t speak much, preferring to stay out of the limelight. It’d been his idea to offer the public photo shoots in all the brilliant costumes Ace created. Reiko and Steph helped dress the stage, Ben created incredible lighting, and Charlie did the person’s outfit, makeup, hair, and poses. It was a great side-earner.
Charlie marched down to the costume room and started to compile the outfits that today’s client, Sarah, had chosen from their online catalogue. Hopefully she hadn’t given them the wrong sizes, which was something that happened far too often. Ben had set up their website so people selected their size, and then they were able to pick outfits for their photo shoot based on that. If they underestimated their size, they’d end up with the wrong list and it always wasted everyone’s time.
Charlie turned on her computer. It was time to do some cynical cyber stalking so she could guess Sarah’s size and bring a few alternatives, just in case.
“Why do you have a stick up your arse?” Beth didn’t mince any words as she leaned on the doorway.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
“Fine. It’s something but I don’t want to talk about it.”
Beth nodded. The wonderful thing about Beth was that she accepted Charlie’s crap and knew when to leave something alone.
“Something to do with work or something else?” Unless it impacted on Seraph’s, of course.
“Everything.” Charlie sighed. She should have known Beth would want more of an explanation, especially since she’d included Seraph’s in her vague explanation. Well, it was the truth. Everything was the fucking problem and that was why it was a problem. She used to be happy, living her best life, and now it just didn’t give her the same satisfaction.
“Tell me.” Beth had the whole mother hen vibe happening, and Charlie breathed out slowly. If she didn’t say anything, Beth wouldn’t give up until she did. There were only a couple of people in Charlie’s life who were more stubborn than herself, and Beth was one of them.
“I don’t know what to say. I don’t even understand it myself. I was so desperate to get back on stage after... and now I’m here and it feels off.” Charlie still enjoyed dancing, she still loved interacting with the audience, she loved the attention, but it just didn’t give her the same high that she used to get. She missed the way dancing used to make her feel. Her life used to be carefree.
“I think the whole thing affected everyone more than any of us want to admit,” Beth spoke slowly, quietly, and Charlie bit back the urge to push away the kind comment.
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“I haven’t seen it affecting your work yet, so don’t stress too much. I’m here if you want to talk about it, whenever you are ready.”
“Thanks. Sorry about grumping at Elle.”
Beth nodded. “I didn’t realise you knew Elle, and I don’t know what happened between you and Elle. It’s obvious there is some kind of history there.” Beth held up her hand. “You don’t have to tell me. All I want is for you to try and get past whatever the issue is and get along with her. She’s going to be spending a bit of time here over the next few weeks.”
If it wasn’t such a big deal, Charlie would’ve scoffed at Beth. Beth likely wanted to know everything and was only exercising patience because she needed to. Despite the urge to breathe in and out loudly, Charlie swallowed.
“No problem. I shouldn’t have taken out my frustrations on her.”
“Or anyone.”
“Yeah.” She couldn’t find the energy for a snarky comeback. “Soon. I’ll do it soon.”
“Thanks. And hey, Charlie?”
“Yeah?”
“You can talk to me anytime. You are an important part of Seraph’s, and your wellbeing matters to me.”
Beth left before Charlie could snarl at her. Sure, if that was true, where was Beth when Charlie was in hospital with COVID?
Charlie coughed. She’d been so oblivious back in March 2020, ignoring all the advice. The last thing she wanted to do was stop going to work; and when Seraph’s had closed, she’d been so angry at Beth. People said COVID was just like the flu. What was the big deal? Why close up shop? Charlie had picked up work at a few underground clubs, still dancing, still loving the attention, still getting paid. And it’d kept her happy for a while, until she’d caught the bloody sickness and ended up in hospital.
It wasn’t just the flu. If she hadn’t been so sick, she would’ve been angry at the people who’d misled her, but ultimately, the person she was most annoyed with was herself. She hadn’t wanted to stop working, hadn’t wanted to be stuck in her house, locked down away from the people who fuelled her and gave her energy. Her defiance had led to her illness. It was her own fault and she growled under her breath; she’d rather be mad than face the truth and forgive herself. Neither option was going to resolve her current problem with enjoying her work.
“Are you okay?” Elle asked. Fucking hell, was everyone going ask the same question? Charlie dropped her hands to her lap.
“Of course.”
“You were holding your throat.”
Charlie shook her head. “It’s nothing.” When she’d been in hospital, they’d put a ventilator pipe down her throat to help her breathe. Even though so much time had passed since then, her throat still remembered, like a phantom scar or something weird.
“Okay. I just wanted to ask if you are okay with me potentially working here for a while.”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I just wanted to check, that’s all.”
Charlie shrugged. “It’s fine.”
Elle frowned. “You don’t sound like it’s fine.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Charlie flung out her arms. “Damn it. Look, not everything is about you.”
Elle grimaced, then nodded. “Sure. Well, I won’t be around too much. I’m just putting together a plan and some costs, and then I’ll just deal with Beth until she confirms what she wants done. I’ll have to oversee contractors, but if you want me to give you some space, that should be easy enough.”
“Elle. I don’t want space from you.” Charlie didn’t know what she wanted. Being pushed away by Elle wasn’t any kind of solution to her current malaise. She liked people, she wanted to go back to her old life, where she danced and people cheered for her, and she had a whole group of different hook ups. It’d been fun. The best sort of fun.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
Elle shrugged and held up her palms. “Okay. I don’t know what’s going on, and I guess that’s okay. I mean, we haven’t seen each other in ages. People change and we didn’t have a close friendship anyway.” Elle nailed the problem; people changed, even Charlie, not that she wanted to think too hard about how she’d changed.
“We didn’t.” Charlie didn’t want to notice the way Elle half-turned and began to walk away with a dejected expression. “What we did have was fun. Elle...” She gulped.
“Yeah?” Elle turned back towards Charlie, who couldn’t help but feel warm at the sight of her open expression.
“Yes. I don’t want to ruin that just because I’m having a shit time at the moment. Kiss me better?”
Elle chuckled. “If I thought it would help, then I’d leap at the chance.”
“Why wouldn’t it help?”
“Just a feeling I have.”
Charlie rubbed her forehead. “Am I so obvious?” She barely understood herself; how could anyone else see what the fuck was happening to her?
“Yes and no.” Elle waggled her head side to side.
“What does that mean?”
Elle grinned. “Relax. Maybe it’s just my memory playing a trick on me.”
“Oh?”
“I remember you as this confident dancer who deserved all the attention the crowd threw your way. I don’t recall you ever showing this—”
“Doubt.” Charlie didn’t wait for Elle to say it. She spoke over the top of Elle, filling the space with the truth.
“I was going to say uncertainty.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
Elle leaned against the door. “I guess so. Doubt is a bit stronger than uncertainty. Everyone has uncertainty, not everyone doubts themselves. What happened to you?”
“Why did something have to happen?”
Elle’s eyebrows raised up. “Did you not notice the whole pandemic and lockdowns and stuff?”
The urge to tell Elle to fuck off rose in Charlie’s throat like a boiling hot ball of lava. “Obviously.” She rolled her eyes instead.
“Something like that is going to have an impact on people. On me and on you, on everyone. I think it’s probably natural to notice some changes in the way you approach the world after going through something as difficult as all of that.” Elle waved her hand. It was odd how no one really wanted to name it, like it’d been so hard and overwhelming that just the name—COVID, coronavirus, the rona, Delta strain, whatever—jabbed people with a painful memory. Charlie shrugged.
“If you want to talk about it, I’m here.” Elle paused for a bit. “I mean, I know we didn’t really have that type of thing going on...”
“Thanks.” Charlie almost left it there but something in Elle’s expression eased the churning in her gut. “Um, there is one thing I don’t get.”
“Yeah?”
“Why now? I didn’t have any doubts during the whole fucking thing. I mean, I hated the lockdown and trying to run shows and dance classes using online programs just sucked, but this...”
“Feeling?”
“Yeah, that. It didn’t start until after everything was, well, I don’t want to say back to normal, but you know, mostly sorted.” The whole mess was so complicated; because not every country had access to vaccines as fast as they had in the UK and that meant each country had very different experiences. Charlie had plenty of friends who had relatives in other countries. London had always been a global city with connections everywhere.
Elle chewed her bottom lip. “I read a bit about this recently. There’s a theory that it’s impossible to process something traumatic while experiencing it, and it’s not until afterwards, once your body is safe, that your mind kind of catches up and can focus on healing.”
“Well, that’s annoying.”
Elle laughed, a quiet gentle laugh that wrapped around Charlie like a soft blanket. “I agree.”
“Can I just refuse to deal with this forever?”
Elle tipped her head back and her laugh boomed around the room. Damn it, Charlie used to laugh like that before. “You can make any decision you want. But tell me this. Will burying these feelings fix them?”
“No.” Charlie hated the way she sounded like a sullen toddler.
“Then you probably need to figure it out sometime.”
“Fuck you.” Charlie laughed and shook her head. “Fine. But I don’t like it.”
Elle bit her lip again and Charlie wanted to know what she wasn’t saying. Or maybe she didn’t want to know.
“Tell me about this redesign Beth has planned.” Charlie needed to talk about something else, and from the way Elle’s eyes lit up and her lips stretched into a smile, maybe she felt the same way.
“Given the budget, it’ll be a light touch in terms of what we can actually change. Beth wants to see if we can change some of the functionality behind the public areas, so if you aren’t bothered by me working here, then it’d be great to get your opinions on what could be changed.”
Charlie grinned. “Oh my god, can we finally change the fucking hallway onto the stage? It’s so narrow and impossible to get some of the costumes up there easily.”
“I was incredibly impressed with the car on stage last night.”
“Yeah, we had to put in a special ramp for it, but it means we’ve lost a whole dressing room. Worth it though.” Charlie was pretty proud of the way they’d found a solution to that one. Yolande’s new dance with the car looked incredible.
“Let’s go and have a look.” Elle pushed herself off the doorframe and left the room, and Charlie followed her. She liked following Elle and her pulse skipped a beat.
Chapter 4
For Elle to focus on work just after Charlie’s admission took some doing. When they’d hooked up after a show, they’d chatted and had a fun friendship. This was different; it was deeper with the way that Charlie spoke about her doubts. For the whole time they’d hooked up, Elle had never mentioned her job and they’d only talked about the show that evening, laughing about the audience, or simply rushing backstage to fuck before Elle collapsed in a ride share and went home to sleep. It’d worked simply because being with Charlie was her escape from that part of her life, and she’d never given any thought to how it affected Charlie.
This was her job, her life, and Elle had walked in and out of it without much care. All she’d seen was Charlie’s confidence and she’d assumed her life had no problems. Oh, that was why this didn’t hit right, because she ought to have known. Had she been so absorbed by her own issues that she hadn’t noticed Charlie properly? No one had a perfect life. The idea that Charlie might have worries and doubts as much as Elle did shouldn’t have been this much of a surprise. How much had Elle gained from surrounding herself with Charlie’s confidence?
“This way.” Charlie opened a door in the rabbit warren of hallways and doors in the back stage area at Seraph’s and indicated for Elle to follow her. Elle had, typically, marched off without knowing where she was going. Charlie wore tight blue jeans—tight enough to be almost painted on her long dancer’s legs—and they left nothing to the imagination, with every step drawing Elle’s attention to Charlie’s arse, hips, and waist. A loose sleeveless shirt hung down her spine with Charlie’s strong arms swinging beside her. She moved with efficiency, smooth and supple. Elle’s fingers twitched with the need to touch Charlie, to skim her hands down Charlie’s straight spine, and across the curves of her hips.
Elle had some knowledge of the place, given that Charlie had often dragged her back here into different spaces so they could fuck, but she really needed a plan so she could redesign it all to be more functional. These old buildings always ended up like this, with little changes and additions over the years until the whole space made little sense. Beth had taken advantage of a newly announced government grant to assist creative arts spaces in reopening to the public, and the grant could provide a lot of improvements to Seraph’s if Elle planned carefully.
“Walk me through something.” It was time to stop salivating over Charlie’s body and start thinking about work. She was here to do a job for Beth. Hanging out with Charlie was a bonus, a side benefit, and she shouldn’t be so distracted by her.
Charlie spun around. “What?”
“When we get to the stage, I want you to walk me through your routine in the evening.”
Charlie frowned. “From the stage? Or from the beginning?”
“The beginning would be better, actually. Can we do that? Do you have time?” Elle shouldn’t assume that Charlie could drop all her other work to help her.
“I have...” Charlie checked her phone. “...about half an hour before I have a dance class to run.”
“Where do you hold those?”
“We have a warm up room next to the stage—you’ve been in there before—” Charlie winked, “—and sometimes I get the class up on the stage so they can perform what they’ve been learning.”
“Okay.” Elle paused, finding it impossible to ignore the memory of Charlie with her hands tied to the barre in the warm up room. She’d used a long silk rope to tie Charlie up before she’d washed off her makeup and her glue. Burlesque glue wasn’t very tasty, and there was something sensual about being the person to clean Charlie after her show; to be the one who exposed her nipples to the air, then sucked them until Charlie begged to have her hands released. Elle shivered. Work, think about work.
