Fallen Angel (Club Burlesque) Read Online Free

the details, she wouldn’t have managed to fuck her way to a six-figure Dolce & Gabbana contract.
    But Violet had nothing to worry about. By the time Ryan Ellison reached the door, he was holding a fistful of twenties.
    “Great show,” he said to her. It was surreal talking to him—she had to remind herself it wasn’t the character from the last movie she had seen him in. The one about the six college kids trapped on a beach along with a drug cartel. The press made fun of it, but it was number one at the box office all summer. Ryan looked gorgeous in it, but even better in person. He wasn’t just cute or sexy. He was handsome in the way most movie stars weren’t, not really. And he was tall. Much taller than her, which always got her a little hot.
    “Thanks,” she said, meeting his eyes. To his credit, they were looking at her face.
    “We’re going to catch another show—wanna come with?”
    “I don’t know,” she said. “I have to change. . . .”
    “I’ll wait for you out front. Black Escalade. Take your time.”
    She pretended to think about it for a beat. Thirty seconds. Then she said okay.
     
    Mallory found Alec waiting for her by the front door. She was carrying her beat-up Danskin duffel bag over her shoulder, and he took it from her.
    “Is that what you’re wearing?” he said.
    “What do you mean?” She looked down at her jeans and UGGs. Perfectly suitable for the car ride home. And she couldn’t wait to trade in her jeans for sweats. She was exhausted. Her post-performance high had evaporated like cheap perfume.
    “We have the Baxter party tonight.”
    “Oh, my God, I totally forgot!” She shook her head. “I can’t go. I’m just—I’m not dressed for it, and I’m not in the mood for a party. There will be so many people there. . . .”
    “We can’t be no-shows, Mal. Not for them.”
    Mallory had met Justin Baxter and Martha Pike through Bette Noir. The couple was well-known on both coasts for their lavish parties and connections in media and the arts. The Baxters were multibillionaires, thanks to Martha’s sex toy and accessory empire. Most famously—and lucratively—she’d invented the Pike Kegel Ball, a device to strengthen and tighten the vagina. While Martha didn’t invent Kegel exercises, she made them cool, sexy, and fun with accessories. And she was living very well because of it. Her handsome husband, Justin, was a huge fan of burlesque. Their private parties were notorious for performances by the best up-and-coming artists in New York and LA. Rumor had it that on more than a few occasions, movie stars and models had spontaneously tried their hands at burlesque at the parties, getting on stage and shedding their clothes.
    The Baxters had, in a sense, given Mallory her start in burlesque; she had done her first performance at Justin’s birthday party in LA last year, when Bette met her girlfriend, Zebra, and bowed out of the lineup at his party so she could join Zebra on the start of her world tour. That was around the time when Bette quit the Blue Angel, and Mallory had only seen her a few times since.
    She liked the Baxters, and she would always feel somewhat indebted to them for the chance they gave her to become Moxie. Alec was right—they couldn’t bail on the party.
    “Okay, you’re right. But what should I do about my clothes? Should I go home and change?”
    “We can’t go all the way back uptown and then turn around to go to Bond Street. It’s already eleven o’clock. You know what? Put your costume back on. They’ll love it.”
    It sounded crazy, but he was right. If there was any place she could walk into on a random Friday night wearing a Marie Antoinette costume, it was the Baxters’ house.
    “Okay. Give me ten minutes to get dressed again.”
     
    Even though Violet took a half hour to clean off some of her body glitter and put on jeans and a simple black tank top, the Cadillac Escalade was parked outside, just as Ryan had promised.
    He opened