The Art of Sin by Alexandrea Weis Page A

hair, deep gray eyes that always look like they don’t approve of me, round face, pale, creamy skin, high cheekbones, and a toned body. She was wearing a pair of black slacks and a light blue silk blouse when she left the house.”
         Lewis stared at him, his deep brown eyes looking thoroughly amused. “That’s a rather detailed description for someone who is just a friend.”
         “Let’s just say she’s a friend, for now. I’m hoping for more.”
         Lewis pointed to Grady’s face. “I guess that explains the sweat.” He pushed the stage door open. “I’ll go and give Teddy your detailed description. He used to be a PI before he became a bouncer, so if she’s here, he’ll know.”
         Lewis slipped through the stage door. He stayed in the shadows along the bar and made his way around the pillars in front to the entrance.
         Grady closed the door and felt another trickle of sweat on his face. “I feel like I’m sixteen again, going to my first prom,” he mumbled.
         He retrieved the towel he had tossed to a nearby chair and quickly wiped his face. “Shit, I’ve got to get it together.”
         “Paulson,” a deep, stormy voice called from the off stage area behind him. “You need to get ready.”
         Grady threw the towel back on the chair and went to the entrance that led to the stage. As he approached, Colin blocked his way. “You should’ve been up ready to go when I came off stage five minutes ago. Don’t make me come looking for you again.”
         Grady nodded, attempting to go around the man’s thick body. “Won’t happen again, Colin.”
         Colin did not budge. “See that it doesn’t, Paulson.” He pulled at the black bow tie around his neck, snapping it off. “You traveling geeks always think you own the show.”
         “No, Colin, we leave that to you headliners.” Grady scrambled around him. 
         Suddenly, a mammoth hand reached for Grady’s shoulder. “Do we have a problem?”
         Grady turned and shoved the man’s hand away. “Don’t push me, Colin, or we might just have a real big problem.”
         The man’s dark eyes carefully calculated Grady’s angry scowl, and then he took a step back. “Get out there. The women are waiting.”
         Heading to his mark right behind the red velvet curtains that led to the stage, Grady looked back at Colin waiting to the side and still wearing his red G-string. He had no intention of getting into a fight, but the man was pushing him, hard. Grady never let anyone get to him, especially not in a club, but if he had to, he would fight back. He had learned a long time ago that he had to stand up for himself on the circuit; otherwise, he would be cut to shreds by the other dancers.   
          Forget about that asshole, his voice of reason scolded . She is out there.
         Grady heard his music start overhead. Blowing out a few deep breaths, he gripped the red velvet curtains. He counted off the beats to the peppy dance music in his head, and when he heard his cue, he rushed onto the stage.
         First, the screaming pierced his ears as the hot lights hit his tuxedo and face. Then the repetition of the dance he had performed a thousand times—in a hundred different clubs—took over. As he seductively shook his hips, the shrill cries of women drowned out sections of his music. Unfazed, he danced on. He could dance his entire routine without a scrap of music and it would still be the same every time. Some dancers frequently changed their choreography and music to keep it fresh, but Grady had brushed off such updating, just like he had refused to make new costumes. To make any changes had simply meant this was a career, and not a temporary way to make ends meet.  
         As he stretched, swiveled, and strutted across the stage, his eyes kept searching the audience for Al. Unfortunately, he could not find her, so he made an extra effort