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Eric Dane chases down a business opportunity...

...from a Strip Club...

...owned by Team Danger!


“Hey! Uh, Verity!” I shout after her as I blast through the swinging doors that lead back into the Crazy Legs Dancing Saloon. “Wait up a minute!”

She looks up from tossing a bag into her trunk and rolls her eyes. “Uh-uh! I got nothing to say to any of you Team Danger types ever again! Fuck right off!”

I try to position myself between her and the driver’s side door of the Mustang that she’s throwing her gear into. She takes this as an immediate affront and shoves me hard in the chest.

“I said fuck off motherfucker! I ain’t one of those girls!” Deftly she hops over the door and into the driver’s seat. Fucking convertibles.

“Hey now!” I exclaim, trying to find some neutral ground. “That ain’t what I’m about! And Greer’s all bark, he’s just pissed off that he ran off the only good woman he ever had a decade ago.”

Her demeanor doesn’t soften, but she doesn’t crank up and leave, either. “What do you want, old-timer? And don’t waste my fucking time or I’m outta here.”

I get right to the point. “What do you know about the wrestling business?”

She scrunches her eyes and gives me a look as if I’ve been eating crayons in front of her. I cock my head and wait for an answer. “Look where I work. It’s a fucking shrine to Team Danger and everything about them. Why do you think I came here in the first place?”

“First rate insurance and upward mobility?” I chide. She rolls her eyes.

“Nah, fool, tryin’ to break in! So much for that though, if I gotta shimmy up one more pole before one of you assholes’ll give me a second look, I’m gonna kill myself.”

I almost want to facepalm.

“Did you think maybe you ought to try the dojo?

“Dojo?” She repeated.

“Down the street. That Ty and Steve run. To train wrestlers.” I’m trying not to talk down to her, but at this point I’m second-guessing myself about young Verity here.

“Oh, I don’t wanna wrestle. Too much bullshit. I want to promote.”

I gotta say, this blows my mind. Just a little.

“What?” She asks before I can respond. “You think I can’t do it because I got tits?”

I shake my head. “Have you met Kels?”

“Kelly Evans?”

“Yeah. She’s like a den-mother around here when she’s around.”

“Kels runs DEFIANCE for me.” I smirk. Checkmate.

It’s her turn to have her mind blown.

“Alright,” she starts. “Maybe I’m buying. What are you sellin’?”

“How would you like a job that doesn’t require you to shake your tits for dollar bills? Also you can rub it into Stevie’s face everytime we’re back in Jacksonville.” I smile.

She nods. “Hop in old-timer, take a ride.”

I do.