A Certain Appeal - Softcover

King, Vanessa

 
9780593330715: A Certain Appeal
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593330714 ISBN 13: 9780593330715
Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2021

Inhaltsangabe

A sparkling contemporary retelling of Pride and Prejudice set in the tantalizing world of New York City burlesque, perfect for fans of The Kiss Quotient and The Roommate.

After a betrayal derailed her interior design career, Liz Bennet found a fresh start in New York. Now an executive assistant by day and stage kitten by night, she’s discovered a second home with the performers at Meryton, Manhattan’s top-tier burlesque venue. Love’s the last thing on her mind when she locks eyes with Will Darcy across the crowded club, yet the spark between them is undeniable—that is, until she overhears the uptight wealth manager call her merely “tolerable.”
 
Bennet is determined to write Darcy off, but once their besties fall head-over-heels, they’re thrown into each other’s orbit again and again. Each encounter begins to feel more heated than the last, but is their chemistry enough to topple that terrible first impression? What’s more, when a charming newcomer arrives on the scene with accusations against Darcy, and a sudden development leaves Meryton’s fate in jeopardy, Bennet will have to decide who to trust in time to salvage her design dreams, her heart, and the stage she shares with her found family…

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Vanessa King spent two years in the New York City burlesque scene and has the glitter in her pumps to prove it. A Certain Appeal is her debut novel and love letter to the dynamic, sexy world of twirling tassels and eyelash glue. When not writing, she enjoys reading, wielding a glue gun, and the contrast of red nails against a chrome barbell. She lives in Colorado with her husband and daughter. 
 

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter 1

"It is a redacted universally acknowledged, that a throbbing redacted in possession of a thick redacted must be in want of a redacted." Andrea bites out each "redacted" with a distaste that grows more resigned with every repetition, the final utterance leaving her on little more than a throaty British sigh. A Mad Libs sheet hangs limply between the tips of her thumb and forefinger, the page held away from her, as though to keep the vulgarity she so thoughtfully "redacted" from staining her white blouse.

She lowers her reading glasses to hang from the gold chain at her neck, eyes shifting to study each of us in turn. The Twins carry on with their stretches on the far side of the dressing room, Ginn slouching and bored in a front split, Tonic doing her best to look shocked as she holds cobra pose. Ming sits at a makeup station, feigning innocence, a row of false eyelashes dangling from her fingers like a cigarette.

"Dare I ask how this ended up on table two?" Andrea's narrowed eyes land on me and her lips flatten to a matte red line. With her severe black bob and alabaster skin, she looks like a cartoon villain even when she's smiling; her current expression has me wondering which of us she plans to turn into a coat.

I shift side to side, the weave of my fishnets pressing into the ball of one foot, then the other. Ming did the Mad Libs last weekend, when I brought in the pad to play with between shows. She filled in every noun with the word "penis," inspiring a debate about whether the repetition was funny or if she'd drained the novelty from the word. I argued she should have diversified, but now I'm not sure; Andrea's lilting West Midlands accent gave the piece an almost musical quality, even with the substitution.

Still, I keep quiet, trying to feel her out. As the general manager of a venue with a burlesque show, Andrea deals with this degree of raunch on a near-nightly basis. Hell, she's just as nasty as Ming.

She releases the page, letting it drift to the surface of the low file cabinet beside her. "I don't care what you get into while you're down here, but don't bring the juvenile humor upstairs. It's beneath you."

Ming's brows shoot up, and I choke back a laugh at the suggestion she's above anything, let alone a dirty Mad Lib.

"Why are you grilling us about this?" Ginn props her chin in her hands, elbows on the ground between her legs. "It could have been the guys in the band, or Jane-"

"The boys have more creative words for 'penis,'" Andrea counters. I arch a brow at Ming, who rolls her eyes. "And Jane is a gentleman."

"Plus, he dots his 'i's with little circles," I add brightly, hoping to defuse the tension. "He does it on our rent checks. It's charming."

Before Andrea's eyes can properly beseech the ceiling for deliverance, a gasp sounds from the supply closet across from us. The door swings open to reveal Jane, who's the picture of refinement in his vest and trousers, the pale gray wool a striking contrast with his dark skin. The little closet is where he warms up his voice; I didn't expect him to hear me.

Jane sags against the door frame, hand smoothing the Bic-close shave of his head as he sighs with dreamy affectation. "Kitten Caboodle, do you really think so?"

"You know I love your 'i's, darling." I blow him a kiss. He mimes catching it, clutching it to his heart, then tugs the door shut with a dramatic swoon.

His performance breaks us. The Twins collapse forward in their respective bends, giggling madly. Ming releases her wicked, machine-gun cackle that reduces me to snorts of laughter. Even Jane's muffled chuckle comes from the closet.

"I'm sorry, Andrea." I dab below my eyes to check that my makeup hasn't run. "It was my fault. I used the pad as a writing surface when I did tonight's reservation notes and a page must have fallen out."

Andrea's hands go to her broad hips. "Well, be careful. Our guests are here for a specific brand of titillation, not potty language." She peers at the offending page. "For heaven's sake, Ming, get a damn thesaurus."

We dissolve into laughter again, Ming's roar setting the beads of her shimmy belt rattling against the metal folding chair.

Andrea finally smirks. "Whatever am I going to do with you all?" She points at me. "You're supposed to be the reliable one."

"Hey, I just pick up panties," I say, palms up in innocence.

She rolls her eyes. At a burlesque show, the responsibilities of the stage kitten can generally be reduced to pick up what the others take off. In my two years here, my role has evolved to take on duties Andrea prefers not to do herself, talent wrangling included. But there's only so much I can do about Ming's base level of smut.

Andrea nods at the notes I hold. "There haven't been any reservation changes, so what you have is current. Girls, have a great show." Her smile drops. "This one counts."

I open my mouth to ask what she means by that, but she shakes her head, patting me on the shoulder.

"Pop a pastie, luvs!" she calls, turning down the hallway.

"Pop a pastie," we chorus, the others already back to their stretches and makeup.

I watch Andrea make her way down the hall, her usually purposeful stride more of a trudge. A sliver of anxiety weaves into my preshow jitters, but I have to shelve my concern. We have half an hour left, and there are a few things to cover before we're stage-ready. "Ladies, family meeting."

Ginn and Tonic look up expectantly. The aerialists are "Twins" in stage name only, as evidenced by their vastly different coloring, and have been been performing together since high school. They are also a rare exception to the show's focus on classic burlesque, performing their peels suspended above the stage.

Ginn pulls her red hair into a messy bun. "Fire away, Kitten."

"Should we get Jane?" Tonic asks.

"Nah. We talked songs on the ride in. Ladies," I direct to the Twins, "you're trying the new aerial number with the silks, right?"

"Silks!" they chime.

"N'kay. I'll have them ready." I jot a note beside the set list. At the top of the page, the club's name, Meryton, is spelled out in fine, looping lettering, with "the Meryest Burlesque Revue in NYC" printed below.

"It's Ming, Twins, Jane, then Twins, Ming, Jane, for the eight o'clock," I say, citing the performance order. "We have three confirmed bachelorette parties for that show. Ming, the one at table five chose the 'naughty' theme-I'm sure they'd appreciate a little extra attention. They'll be the ones with the dick straws and the bride in the phallus-tipped tiara. And that was two separate synonyms for 'penis'; I hope you're taking notes."

"I like what I like," Ming sniffs, and dabs at a blob of pearlescent body paint in her belly button.

"And you do like penis," says Ginn.

"Anyway," I interrupt, "that's all I have. Anyone need anything?"

Ming cranes her neck, rubbing the dislodged body paint over the swells of breast cresting the cups of her bra. "Did Andrea bring our bubbles?"

I glance at the file cabinet, where Andrea deposits the preshow prosecco and stems, but the only thing breaking up the gray metal surface is Ming's Mad Lib. That anxiety from earlier tightens around my middle. Andrea might have been distracted by the Mad Libs, but it would take more than that to sideline her from bringing down a bottle. "I'll go."

On my way out, I check in with Jane. "I'm going upstairs. You need anything?"

He straightens his tie with a broad smile. "No, I don't, but thanks for checking first," he croons, each word a note on the scale.

Turning, I point to my back, where my corset stays hang in need of tying. "If you'd be so kind?"

"Do you have the ladies where you'd like?" he...

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Verlag
Penguin Publishing Group
Erscheinungsdatum
2021
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593330714
ISBN 13 
9780593330715
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
352
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Verantwortliche Person
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