Chapter 32 The Number One Dancer
"What's going on here? Who's making trouble in Dream House?"
Elizabeth turned toward the voice, her gaze locking on him for a heartbeat. She knew him instantly — the man who had once brought food to her door.
Mindy jabbed a finger at Elizabeth, her tone sharp with outrage. "Mr. Sutter, perfect timing. Throw her out of Dream House. Look at me — she soaked me in juice. I'm not letting this slide."
Matthew's eyes shifted to Mindy, his mouth curling into something between a smile and a smirk. "You do look like you've had a rough night. But every woman who walks into Dream House is treated as a guest of honor. Miss Johnson, perhaps you could do me a favor and let this one go… What do you say?"
Mindy's eyes flashed. "You…!"
Mabel stifled a laugh behind her hand, mischief dancing in her eyes.
Matthew motioned to the security team. "Escort Miss Johnson out of Dream House."
The words hit Mindy like a slap. For a moment she thought she'd misheard. Wasn't Elizabeth supposed to be the one thrown out? The humiliation burned hotter than the sticky juice clinging to her skin. If she was seen being removed tonight, it would be tomorrow's gossip.
"You lay a hand on me and see what happens! Why aren't you throwing them out instead?"
Her phone rang. Seeing Sherry's name, she snatched it up and launched into her complaint. "Sherry, is Armando there? I need him — I've been humiliated. Elizabeth threw juice on me…"
Sherry glanced at Armando, who was buried in paperwork. She didn't want him tangled up with Elizabeth, but Mindy was forcing her hand. "Armando, Mindy's in Dream House. She's had a run-in with Elizabeth. The owner, Mr. Sutter, called security to have her removed."
Armando froze mid-task, Elizabeth's name halting him cold. His voice was icy. "If they're making a scene in someone else's venue, getting tossed out is what they deserve."
He had no idea what Dream House really was — in his mind it was some kind of upscale beauty spa.
"Sherry, give him the phone. I'll talk to him myself."
Mindy hadn't hung up, but she caught enough to know Armando wasn't inclined to help. She couldn't afford to be humiliated tonight.
Sherry passed the phone over. Armando listened, face unreadable, as Mindy laid out the details. He learned Elizabeth had thrown juice at her, and that Matthew intended to have her removed.
When the call ended, he rubbed his temple. "Get the car."
Back inside Dream House, Mabel pulled Elizabeth back into her seat. "Show's still on. She's just stalling until Armando gets here."
Elizabeth's lips twitched in amusement. Mabel was endlessly entertaining.
Matthew brushed aside the man beside Elizabeth and dropped into the seat next to her. "Ms. Penrose, does Timothy know you're here tonight?"
Elizabeth smiled. "If you don't tell him, he won't."
Matthew's mouth tightened. So she wanted him to keep her secret.
Across the room, Mindy — now wrapped in a coat over her sticky clothes — watched Matthew speak to Elizabeth with a warmth she didn't understand. Did they know each other?
"You two know each other?" she demanded.
"Does it matter?" Elizabeth's tone was cool. "Ms. Johnson, we could have pretended not to know each other and avoided all this. Why go out of your way to cause trouble? We're not children — act your age."
Mabel nodded. "Exactly. Grow up."
The jab landed. Mindy's cheeks flushed under the weight of the stares around her.
"Elizabeth, you're just a woman Armando cast aside. What's with the smugness? You used to grovel for him, for us — learning massage, learning to cook just to please the Johnson family. Pathetic."
Elizabeth's smile didn't waver. "Back then my skills were raw. Practicing on you was convenient."
Skill was skill — nothing shameful about it.
Mindy fell silent. Elizabeth's tongue was sharp enough to draw blood.
Matthew signaled for the show to resume, but quietly sent a message to Timothy.
Matthew: [Heard Ms. Penrose learned massage and cooking to please Armando.]
In Novaria, Timothy stood on the muddy bank of Crocodile River, one boot planted on the back of an older man sprawled in the dirt. The man couldn't move. A crocodile lumbered up from the water, jaws snapping shut on his leg. His scream ended abruptly as Timothy's phone buzzed.
He glanced at Matthew's text and typed back.
Timothy: [Good.]
He was already thinking he'd have Elizabeth give him a massage when he returned.
Matthew, feeling smug, fired off another message: [Armando's here!]
Armando stepped into Dream House and froze at the sight of the stage — shirtless men strutting under the lights, women screaming in the crowd. One woman yanked at a dancer's briefs and shoved bills inside.
His gaze locked on Elizabeth. She was laughing, stubbornly trying to slip money into a dancer's waistband with one hand. Two hands stopped her — Matthew's and his own.
Mabel succeeded without interference.
Elizabeth frowned. "Let go."
Mindy's eyes lit up. "Armando."
Matthew smiled thinly. "Mr. Johnson, let's talk somewhere else."
In Novaria, the crocodile finished with the man's legs. Timothy stepped back, pulling his boot off the man's spine. He dialed Matthew.
"Where did they run into each other?" His voice was all business.
Matthew's throat went cold. He regretted his earlier bravado. "At the mall."
Timothy's eyes narrowed. "Elizabeth's bodyguards are mine. You dare lie to me?"
Caught. Matthew had Beck lead Armando and the others to an office before he answered with forced cheer. "Ms. Penrose and Ms. Simpson came to Dream House tonight."
"Anything else?" Timothy's tone was almost playful. "Shall I bring you a Novaria crocodile? Just ate two human legs."
Matthew spilled everything in a rush. "Ms. Penrose ordered the Number One dancer. They just talked. Watched the show. Tried to slip money into a dancer's briefs but we stopped her. She and Mindy clashed — I'm handling it. I won't let the Johnson family push her around."
He hung up, staring at his phone, feeling the walls close in