“I’ll take it.”
It was quite a jump from the eight she currently paid me.
“Good, I try to be generous now and again, just to keep in good favor with the man upstairs.” She pointed her cigarette skyward before flicking it into the overflowing ashtray.
“I didn’t realize you were a religious woman,” I said as Dante drew closer, his lips pressed in an irritated line.
“I’m not, but it’s better to play it safe. And about the raise, you earned it. You ain’t stupid, and you work harder than almost anyone here.”
“Almost?” I asked as I dropped the dishcloth into the bucket of dirty water. It landed with a splash that dampened the floor around it.
“Yeah, the only one who works harder than you around here is Missy,” she said, and a slow smiled spread across her splotchy face.
“Missy?” I scowled and was surprised at the irritation in my own voice for having been one upped by the blonde.
“How does she work harder than me?” I asked, and folded my arms across my chest as other members turned to face us, eager for a confrontation.
“The girl brought in five grand this week.” She examined the orange glow at the end of her cigarette.
“Five grand?” I gaped.
“Yep.”
“How the hell did she do that?” I demanded as I looked around the filthy establishment.
“She has been working hard upstairs,” she said, and my eyes rose to the ceiling.
“No, you’re not saying.” I closed my eyes as I realized that the creaking sound that I’d been hearing above me for the last couple hours had nothing to do with settling wood or the wind brushing against the tin roof. “I didn’t realize that you had already started your...” I trailed off, unsure how to say it in the most respectful way.
“Whorehouse?” she asked, and I nodded.
“Yeah, we’ll go with that,” I said in disbelief as Spider crept forward and pulled out the chair a few feet away from Sasha.
“The whorehouse is still in the trial run,” Sasha said with a shrug. “I really started talking it up at the party, and it was so well received that I decided to roll it out on a probationary level. You know, the job is still open if you want it. I could make that twelve dollars look like chump change.”
I stiffened and ignored Spider’s penetrating gaze. “I’ll take my twelve dollars an hour as a bartender.”
“What are we talking about?” Dante asked and leaned forward, resting a hand on my forearm.
“I’m trying to talk Allie into joining my more elite services.” Sasha encouraged and Dante grinned.
“I like that idea,” he said as the smell of his whiskey breath assaulted my lungs. “Let me know what you decide.” He gave a long glance over my body and slid his hand down my arm until he was touching my hand. “I’ll have two fingers of whiskey and one of my usuals.”
“Right away.” I smiled and then carefully pulled my hand away from his and turned toward the whiskey on the shelf.
“How are you doing tonight?” Sasha asked and extinguished her cigarette.
“I’ve been better.” He took the glass of whiskey that I poured along with the Jager bomb. “How long the boys been here?” Dante nodded toward the back corner.
I looked away and focused on the mop bucket beside me.
“About an hour.”
“Put this on my tab,” he said and threw back the whiskey before slamming the glass down onto the table.
“You know,” Sasha said as he strode away, “he really wants you.”
My body was numb, weak. “I’m flattered but I’ve got—”
“I know, you’ve got Easy but there is something to say about a man with power and Dante, he’s got power.” Sasha let out a long sigh. “I’d pay you more than I pay Missy.”
I narrowed my eyes and turned to face her. “And why is that?”
“Because you are goody two shoes, you are like the proverbial unicorn, out of reach, men are always more interested in a woman they can’t have. They’ve all had Missy, she sleeps with just about everyone here.” Sasha waved her arm around, gesturing to the Coyotes.
Some of them leered at me, and I scowled back.
“Men always want what they can’t have,” she said, with a wise nod.
“But then once they had me, my value would go down.” I bit my lower lip to fight back the nausea at the mere thought of being touched by Spider or Dante.
“Maybe, but I think it’ll all still work out in the end.”
“Thank you for the offer. But I’ll stick with this.” I picked up Dante’s shot glass and carried it along with the dirty water back toward the kitchen.
In the kitchen, I lowered the bucket of gray water to the floor as it sloshed around the sides. Part of the discoloration came from the dirty counters, but the rest of it was likely a result of the terrible plumbing. Honestly, the building could be condemned, that was, if anyone had the balls to come in here and actually examine the structure.
Wiping sweat from my brow, I looked around the grimy kitchen. The ancient refrigerator sat silent, untouched, and it was probably safe to assume it didn’t even work.
“Traitor,” a hushed voice drew my attention, and I glanced toward where it came from.
The voice grew a little louder as I snuck forward, but I still couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“Suffer...” the voice said, and I lifted the boxes that were stacked on top of the fridge and placed them on the ground. There, directly above the fridge, was a small air vent.
Clearly, whatever I was hearing was coming from the back corner table. I reached for the abandoned bar stool that Sasha usually sat on while I washed dishes, and carefully slid it closer to the fridge. Climbing on top of the fridge, I sat cross legged under the air vent and peered through to see the table.
It was difficult to see what was going on the other side, but the soft yellow lights of the
