"Probably," I said.
He patted my hand. "If I tell you I'm sure that they won't get bad weird, then I'd be lying, but probably they don't mean any harm."
"I'd feel better if we went back," I said.
"No," he said, and he sounded very firm. "These are my fans, Anita, and this is my job. I'm going to smile and talk to them, and you can pretend to be my bodyguard, or pretend to be security, but it's bad business for you to be my girlfriend. It hurts the illusion."
"The illusion?" I made it a question.
He smiled. "That they can have me."
I gave him the long blink, the one that means I've just received more information than I wanted and don't know what to do with it. "Okay," I said, "I'll be security." There, I was cool. I could handle this. Sure, I could.
He let me go in front, because that's what I'd do if I were security. He didn't try to argue, since he could wave and smile and call to them over my head. I fought to keep my face blank and not cranky, but I think I failed.
There were four of them: two blondes, one brunette, and one with hair as black as mine. Though I could tell hers came out of a bottle, because it was too solid, all-over black, no highlights. Black hair isn't supposed to look like you've poured ink on your head. But again, maybe that was just me being cranky.
Nathaniel, alias Brandon, chatted the women up like a pro. The two blondes were regulars, apparently, on a first-name basis. "We were so excited when we got the E-mail that you were going to be here tonight," one gushed. She kept touching his arm while she talked. They'd brought a friend, the one with black hair, who was new, but had seen his pictures on the club's Web site. I hadn't known that Guilty Pleasures had a Web site. Of course, I didn't own a computer, so what did it matter to me?
Raven-hair said in a voice that was breathy with nervousness, "Your pictures were amazing." She looked at him with little covert glances, as if she was afraid to stare at him head-on. One of the blondes got an honest-to-God autograph book out for Raven-hair, who was quote, too shy to do it herself, unquote.
The brunette wasn't joining in the squeal fest. She was looking at me, and it wasn't a friendly look. "Who's she?" she asked.
I was standing beside the door at the top of the steps, hands loose at my sides, trying to look bodyguardish, and probably failing. My little blue and black skirt outfit, complete with high heeled boots, didn't look much like security detail.
"Security," he said smiling, and signing Raven-hair's book.
"She doesn't look like security," the brunette said.
"I'm new," I said.
Brunette didn't look like she believed me. She crossed her arms underneath her small, tight br**sts and glared at me.
I smiled back sweetly.
That deepened her scowl and gave her little lines between her eyebrows. I felt better.
Nathaniel gave me a little flicker of a look that said as clearly as if he'd spoken, "Be nice." I was nice. I smiled and stood and let the blondes touch his arms, his back, but when one of them patted his ass, that was it.
I pushed away from the wall, and said, "Ladies, Brandon here needs to get inside and prepare for his performance." I managed to keep smiling even when one of the blondes threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. Then the other blonde grabbed him and kissed him on the other cheek.
I grabbed his arm and moved him back far enough so I could open the door. The two women were still clinging to him. Raven-hair was blushing, and the brunette was still scowling at me. I kept my smile in place, though it felt more like a grimace.
Nathaniel said, "Beth Ann, Patty, if you don't let me go, I can't get on stage."
"Stay out here with us, and we wouldn't care," one of them said.
I glanced behind me and saw a black-shirted man. It was Buzz, the vamp that usually worked the door here. He had the same black crew cut that he had always had, small pale eyes, and more muscles than you should need as a dead man. His black shirt said GUILTY PLEASURES SECURITY in red letters. I didn't usually like Buzz much, but tonight I was glad to see him. Help had arrived.
I could have cleared the steps if I was allowed to be mean, but having to be nice at the same time I was trying to be firm was beyond me. My skill set simply did not include it.
He forced his face into a smile before the women behind me could see him clearly. He was the newly dead, around twenty years, which meant he looked very alive for a dead man. Most humans wouldn't have spotted him in a crowd. Most people think that vamps gain the ability to pass for human, but that's never been my experience. Older is less human, just better at the mind games so humans don't notice.
"Ladies, you're not supposed to be back here," Buzz cajoled. He moved past me, and his chest was so muscle-bound that it looked like there wasn't room for all of us and his upper body to stand on that small landing.
The brunette said, "Is she really security?"
"If that's what she said," he said in the same good-fellow-well-met voice. He was cheerfully extracting Nathaniel from the blondes. He managed to make a game of it, and they spilled around Buzz's muscular body, as if to say, if they couldn't cling to Nathaniel, any male would do. Of course, from the sound of the joking conversation, the blondes knew Buzz, too.
Raven-hair had backed down the steps, eyes a little wide. She didn't want to play. It made me think better of her.
I drew Nathaniel in through the open door, with the brunette giving me a murderous glare. She was taking this way too personally. It was sort of unnerving. Nathaniel and I were safely through the door, but I didn't like closing it and leaving Buzz out there alone. I mean, he'd helped us. What were the rules about security guards? Did they get protected, too, or just the dancers and customers? If you cut a security guard did he not bleed? So I stood there uncertainly with Nathaniel. It was Nathaniel who gently closed the door.
"Buzz will be fine, he knows how to talk to them."
"What, you read my mind?"
He smiled. "No, I just know you. He helped us, and now you feel obligated."
I fought the urge to squirm or shuffle my feet. I hated when anyone figured me out that clearly. Was I that transparent? Apparently so.
I decided to change the subject. "How did they know that 'Brandon' would be here tonight?"
"When we change headliners, we have an E-mail list that we notify. There's even a list just for Brandon."
I looked at him. "You mean that some of these women dropped everything, changed all their plans, because they found out that Brandon was going to be here tonight?"
He shrugged and managed to look a little embarrassed. "Some of them, yes."
I shook my head. I changed the subject again, because I was losing again. "Who was supposed to be keeping the fans away from this door?"
The door in question opened. Buzz laughed and joked, until the door closed behind him, then he leaned against it and looked tired. "Primo was."
It took me a second to realize that he'd answered the question I'd asked with the door closed. "You heard me ask the question?"
He nodded. Then he grinned flashing fangs, the sign of a new vamp. "You didn't know I could hear you through the door?"
"Hear, yes, but I thought you were too busy concentrating on the women outside."
He looked past me at Nathaniel. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
Buzz pushed himself away from the door and stood, settling his big, overdeveloped shoulders like a bird settles its feathers. "I better go talk to Primo, for what good it will do."
"What do you mean, good it will do?" I asked.
He looked at me. "Primo is old, really old. He wants to be one of Jean-Claude's vamps, but he had his eye on like the number two, or at least number three slot. He's pissed that he's having to be security at a strip club. He's more pissed that a baby like me is his direct boss." Buzz looked worried. "He's old school, and he thinks if he keeps pushing me, that I'll call him out. But I am not going to challenge that thing. He'd kill me."
"Have you told Jean-Claude what's going on?"
He nodded. "He told Primo that if he couldn't stomach this job and obey me, then he could get out of town."
"Did that help for awhile?" I asked.
Buzz smiled. "Have you heard this story before?"
"No, but I know how the really old vamps can be. They are proud bastards."