Free Conduct Unbecoming by Georgia Sinclair

production out of glancing around, frowned.  “Crowded tonight.”  He scratched his jaw, dragging out the torture.  “Extra chair here, if you want to join me.”
    He could see just how badly she wanted to say no - it was written all over her face - but she reeled her temper in and plopped down next to him.  Leaned back to cross one leg over the other, her foot bobbing up and down impatiently. 
    A waitress was at Dante’s side before he could settle into his own chair, leaning forward to bring her obviously enhanced cleavage to his eye-level.  “What can I get you, Hon?”
    “ Whiskey, rocks.”  Dante flashed her a crooked grin, his gaze lingering on her chest for a second or two.  “Chablis here tonight?”
    “ Uh huh.  Should be up next.”  The waitress walked away, hips swinging, ignoring Harley completely.  Harley frowned, glanced around.  There were a handful of women in the audience, all being ignored by waitresses.  Whatever.  “Nothing for me, thanks.”  Harley rolled her eyes at the other woman’s back.
    When the music kicked on a scantily-clad redhead wrapped herself around one of the poles, and Dante leaned back a little in his chair to watch.  “So what now?” she asked impatiently.
    “ Now we sit back and enjoy the show.”
    The waitress returned with Dante’s drink, set it down on the table in front of him.  He sipped, his eyes still on the redhead.  “Just out of curiousity, who told you about Roxi’s anyway?” he asked her.
    “ Sorry.”  She mimicked zipping her mouth, throwing away the key.  No way was she telling him the truth; that she’d overheard it from one of the bartenders at Arturo’s.
    Another stripper - a blonde, this time - took her place at the pole, her hips swinging back and forth like a pendulum in time to an 80’s hair band song whose name Harley couldn’t quite remember.  Like the redhead, the blonde wore a thong and a teeny, tiny bikini top, along with a pair of glittery platform pumps.
    Harley frowned, watched her strut and gyrate and bend her near-naked body in ways that defied logic, let alone gravity.  The fact that she was able to do it in those heels?  Mind boggling.
    Harley wasn’t surprised when the blonde tugged off her top - hello, strip club -  but her mouth nearly dropped open when the other woman sent it sailing through the air and into Dante’s lap.  “You have got to be kidding me,” Harley sputtered. 
    “ Problem?”  Dante lifted his eyebrows, his fingers tightening around a handful of silver fabric.  
    Harley muttered something ugly under her breath, folded her arms over her chest.  God, she wished she had a drink, just so she could toss it in his stupid, condescending face.
    She took a deep, calming breath, allowed herself a moment to enjoy the visual.  His stunned expression, the alcohol - tequila, maybe? - dripping off his nose, his eyelashes.  It worked, too.  At least it seemed to until the stripper, the blonde whose top was clutched so tightly in Dante’s hand, walked up and leaned down to kiss him on the mouth.
    Typical.   Harley rolled her eyes.  The woman couldn’t have been off the runway for more than a couple of minutes, but she’d found the time to touch up her hair, her make-up.  Getting dressed in something other than a short, silky robe and those ridiculous heels was too much trouble, but God forbid her mouth not be painted with a fresh coat of fire engine red.
    “ Mmm mmm mmm,” the blonde hummed under her breath.  Stood in front of him, gently thumbed away the lipstick smudge she’d left on his mouth.  “Dante Giancana.”
    “ Chablis.”  He reached out, trailed his fingers along the sash tied at her waist.  “I heard you were working here.”
    “ Since they reopened.  Good money, close to home.  Who could ask for more?”   She pulled out a chair, sat down next to Dante.  “So, who’s your friend?”
    “ Sorry.  Chablis, this is Harley…”  Dante looked at Harley,