Notorious. Vicki Lewis Thompson

before she looked up, her gaze guarded. “She always was sweet on him, but she’s making a huge mistake.”

      “A few months ago I would have agreed with you, but you’d be surprised at how Jonas has changed. He’s getting more responsible by the day.”

      “What a shame.”

      The old irritation that had always been a part of his conversations with Keely pricked him now. If everybody had Keely’s carefree attitude toward life, the work would never get done. “I happen to be glad for him.”

      She gave him that saucy smile, the one that always warned him that a smart-ass remark was coming. “You would be,” she said. “You were born old.”

      His jaw clenched. Keely had a real talent for getting under his skin. She always had—in every department. “Everybody has to grow up sometime. Even you.”

      “Not if I can help it. And as for B.J. and Jonas, they should have years ahead of them before they have to settle into some boring routine. But no, they’re shackling themselves to each other and that blessed ranch. I hate to see it.”

      “Nobody asked you to.” Now, that was a low blow and he hadn’t meant to deliver it. But he couldn’t take it back, and he didn’t know how to smooth over what he’d just said.

      Her eyes registered the hurt. “No, I guess nobody did.” She slid her sunglasses back on, and when she spoke again her voice sounded more brittle than bright. “And I suppose my father’s as crotchety as ever?”

      He was touched that she was brave enough to ask about Arch. She and her father had fought bitterly all through her teenage years, and he’d practically thrown her out after the centerfold incident. He hadn’t been serious about sending her away, but with her nineteen-year-old view of the world, she’d taken it seriously. Neither of them had been able to swallow their pride long enough to make the connection again.

      “Arch is fine,” he said gently, wanting to reassure her of that much, at least. “In perfect health.”

      “I’m not surprised,” she said with a grimace, although she sounded relieved. “He wouldn’t tolerate the presence of an infirmity.” She straightened her shoulders. “Well, now that we’re all caught up, I’d better be going. I have an appointment.”

      He’d nearly forgotten where they were standing. Before he’d stopped her she’d been about to go inside this dance club. He had a sinking sensation that he knew why. “An appointment?” he asked, trying to keep the question casual.

      “Yes. An interview.”

      “Oh.” His gut churned. A job interview. The centerfold picture flashed through his mind again and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was trying to get a job dancing on the stage in there. She planned to take off most of her clothes and twirl those little tassel gizmos for the men who patronized this club.

      He eyed the entrance once more and noticed chipped paint around the door frame. The rock music coming from inside sounded more sinister than it had a moment ago, and he heard loud male laughter. He hoped this place was a step down from what she’d been doing before and not a step up. But whichever direction she was headed, it looked like the wrong road to him.

      “Listen, I’m already late, but it’s been fun seeing you,” she said. “What a coincidence, huh? Take care of yourself, Noah.” She turned toward the shadowy entrance.

      Without taking time to think about it, he grabbed her arm. “Don’t go in there.”

      She glanced up at him in surprise. “Why not?”

      “There have to be better ways to make a living.” His breath hitched. Her bare arm felt warm and smooth beneath his fingers. She had wonderful skin, he remembered now. And she was planning to show way too much of it to strangers.

      With her free hand she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. Then she gazed at him as if fascinated by this turn of events. “What do you think I do for a living?”

      “I’m…I’m not sure, and to tell the truth I’d rather not know. I’m just asking you not to go for that interview. I’ve been in places like this. I know how they expect the women to—”

      “Do you, now?”

      He released her arm as if her skin might burn him. “Damn it, Keely. You know what I’m talking about.”

      “I’m not sure I do. I’m still getting used to the concept of Noah Garfield in a topless bar. Did someone trick you into going in?”

      “No!” The woman sure had a way of getting his goat. “I went in under my own steam. I’m not a saint.”

      A slow smile spread over those peach-colored lips. “Couldn’t prove it by me.”

      “Look, Keely, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye on things. Years ago you seemed determined to head in a certain direction, and you wouldn’t listen to anybody who tried to talk you out of it. But I’m asking you right here, right now, to reconsider. Maybe you met me on this street for a reason. Maybe it’s time to think about alternatives.”

      She folded her arms and looked at him. Mischief lurked in her eyes. “Let’s make sure I understand. Instead of going inside and getting a job wiggling my ta-tas for the customers, you want me to reform and go into a more respectable line of work. Is that the gist of it?”

      “You’re making fun of me, but yes, that’s the gist of it.”

      The gleam of devilment grew brighter. “You want to save me from myself.”

      “Aw, hell, Keely.” He figured she was going to roast him for this attempt to do the right thing. “It’s not that topless dancing is so terrible. I know you think I’m some sort of prude, but I’m not. And I understand that you’ve always wanted to kick the status quo in the butt. But isn’t this getting a little old? I should think you’d have moved on to something else by now.”

      “I’m not even thirty!”

      “Damn close.”

      “Ten whole months away, buster.”

      “See, it’s the perfect time to make a change.” He was thinking she looked years younger than thirty. Because they’d grown up together he knew exactly how old she was, but a stranger would think she was in her early twenties. No doubt her body would look good on stage for a long time to come, but he didn’t intend to say that. He didn’t even want to think that.

      “And what sort of job should I do?” she asked, tapping the toe of her sandal against the pavement.

      “I’m not sure.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Now that he’d jumped into this white-knight routine, he didn’t know how to proceed. “Maybe we could kick around some ideas.”

      “And when could we do that? You have a wedding to attend, as I recall, and I need to make a living.”

      And there was the heart of the matter. If she was looking for a job, she was probably short on cash. He couldn’t very well tell a woman like Keely to forget about the money she’d make dancing topless and take a job flipping burgers instead. She’d laugh in his face. He wasn’t going to convert her to a different lifestyle during one conversation on the street corner.

      He stalled, trying to think what to do. “How long have you been in Vegas?”

      “Just got here yesterday.”

      “Okay.” He thought quickly. One step at a time. “I understand the economic realities. You just came to town and you need a job, but could you hold off for the weekend so we could talk about it? I could cover your expenses for the next few days.”

      “You mean, pay for my room and board? I don’t think so.”

      “Then how about this? Cancel your room reservation and move in with me for the weekend. Would that save you enough so you wouldn’t have to work right away?”