Moved On

Moved On Part Four

"It's a hard knock life for us. It's a hard knock life for us!"

Annie laughed as she and 'The girls'- the term which her boss referred to the female performers- were herded from the diner at closing time.

In high spirits, as they always were before starting work, they belted out the songs from the top of their lungs. Annie suspected it helped them get into character before having to hit the stage. It was only as she joined in with their giggling, did she realised her shift had been spent swinging from fear to anticipation, expectation to despondency.

She had been waiting for Sean to make an appearance all day. Barely sleeping, her mind had worried over him all night too.

Was he a policeman, had he been sent here to scope her out and drag back to England? He didn't look like a copper, but then if he was good at his job he wouldn't, would he? But that didn't explain why the idea of him cuffing her wrists behind her back excited her so? She became hot imagining his breath heavy on the back of her neck. Would he search her, run his hands over her body, accidentally brush over her breasts. Would he kick her feet apart to spread her legs, push a hard, muscle packed thigh between hers to hold her in place?

"Look, 'lil orphan Annie has her own Daddy Warbucks waiting for her." Carmen Miranda trilled dramatically.

 Annie’s heart gave a solid thump, before stopping altogether.

Leaning casually against the diner window, Sean was silently watching them leave. He gave her a smile that, to Annie's over active imagination, seemed to be all knowing. The gathered heat that had pooled in her belly, and kept her in a perpetual state of arousal, flooded her body, filling her face with fiery colour. She was unable to keep a small whimper of embarrassment escaping her lips as she looked away from his crinkling blue eyes.

For a man faced with a clutch of loud, cackling transvestites, Sean was remarkably confident. Relaxed, with one shoulder against the window, he waited, ignoring the catcalls and over the top flirtation from her friends.

 Realising there was no sport to be had from Sean,  they kissed Annie goodnight.

Except for Cher.

The tall transvestite banded her arm across Annie's lower back, hand curling over her hip. It was a protective gesture. With heels Cher topped her by head and shoulders. “Are you going to be alright, do you want me to stay?” The female performer asked softly.

 Sean didn't move, didn't straighten, didn't even change his calm expression, but his eyes dropped to the hand at Annie's waist.

Air stilled, alert, as if holding its breath. A whisper of danger kissed Annie's skin, and unwillingly her body shivered.

Sean's eyes rose to hers, what she saw in them made the tension inside her begin to fizz.

 Then he broke the spell with a quirky smile.

 Annie shook her head quickly to dispel fanciful thoughts. “I’ll be fine” Going on tiptoes, She kissed Cher’s stubbly cheek. “You have a good night. Break a leg”

 With the sound of clip, clopping heels fading into the night, Sean straightened from the window and sauntered over to Annie. “Wanna go for a drink?”

 “What kind of drink?” Annie asked wondering if he meant a benign late night coffee, or a moody bar and alcohol.

 Leaning down to her level, eyes laughing, Sean smiled wickedly. “Ever had a scouseaccino?”

 “No, what’s in it?”

Sean laughed softly. “Com’ ‘ave a bevy wiv me, I’ll enlighten you.” Without waiting for an answer he placed a faintly territorial arm heavily around Annie’s shoulders. “And you can tell me what a chirpy Cockney bird is doing working in a choke and puke in Vegas.”