Peasants and Kings - Emma Slate Page 0,25

laid out on the bed and wore the black flats I’d worn to Folson’s. I borrowed a pair of small silver disk earrings from Tiffany.

“You look great.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“How’s the mood?”

“On the upswing,” I admitted.

“Told you. You can’t sit around and stew.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“The event you mentioned, the one that happens in a few days...I’m going, too,” she said.

I let out a breath. “Good. That’ll be good.”

“Yeah, a familiar face.” She squeezed my hand.

My gaze dropped to the key she wore around her neck, and I wanted to ask her all sorts of questions about it.

“I wore a rose gold key for two years, Sterling.”

“I didn’t ask you anything, did I?” I looked her in the eyes.

“You were clearly mulling it over.” She grinned. “Yes. Two years before I went to yellow gold.”

“What made you decide to—ah—advance?”

She laughed. “I was just ready. I felt comfortable enough with my status, but I wanted more. So, I offered more.”

“Any plans to move to platinum?” I asked, super curious at the path Tiffany had taken.

“Eventually,” she said. She paused before she went on. “Do you know how Gen got her position as a Madame?”

I shook my head.

“You have to hold a platinum key for at least three years to even be considered for a Madame position. Ultimately, I’d like to retire the key and run an entire floor of my own.”

“Really? You’re not going to take the cash and run when you’ve done it long enough? Maybe buy yourself a home on a beach somewhere?”

“Nah, I’d grow bored in retirement.” Her eyes twinkled. “I know this sounds odd, but I’m really good at this business. Not just the sex—which I’m sure you’ve learned by now it’s not even about that. Not really. But the idea of running my own floor at another Rex location…well, I feel like it would be a really good fit. An amazing challenge. And then, one day, I won’t just be a courtesan. I’ll be something more.”

“I thought being a courtesan doesn’t bother you.”

“It doesn’t. The Rex…it’s safe, it’s familiar. It’s addictive.”

“What’s addictive? The power of sex?”

She smiled, looking amused and secretive. “You don’t know what The Rex can do for you, Sterling. It can open doors you didn’t even know existed. You will meet men who have the power to change the face of the world. You know what this job has given me?”

I shook my head.

“Lessons in how to own myself. How to own my body and sensuality. And how to use that knowledge to my advantage. It’s powerful, what I do. I have real power.” She squeezed my hand again. “We can talk more about it at the bar. You ready?”

“Yeah. Are you calling a car?”

“The place I want to take you to…you don’t really arrive in a chauffeured town car.”

“What kind of place is it?”

She held out her hand. “The kind of place where we should take your beater.”

“You drove us to Waco,” I accused.

Tiffany swerved my dated Toyota into a parking spot and cut the engine. “Yes. This is my favorite spot.”

I looked out the window and saw a bright sign blinking the name Shelly’s across the roof. Motorcycles were parked out front and a few grubby overweight men wearing leather vests were smoking cigarettes, looking like their broad shoulders could prop up the walls of the establishment.

“Your favorite bar is a biker bar?” I asked in amusement.

She shrugged. “Sometimes I want swarthy instead of suits. What can I say? Let me buy you a shot of tequila.”

Tiffany locked my car and shoved the keys into her clutch. With brazen bravado, she stalked toward the entrance. The men who were smoking quickly jumped to like they were eighteenth century, leather-clad tattooed dandies and opened the door for us.

“Thank you, boys,” Tiffany flirted, shooting them a winning smile.

The bar wasn’t seedy or even a dive. It was a lot of dark wood and dim lighting, but it felt welcoming, despite the rough customers who sat at the tables.

We bellied up to the bar. I watched a petite brunette pick up a bottle of bourbon and pour it quickly into three shot glasses before sliding them to a scruffy blond biker who was waiting at the end of the bar.

“That’ll be fifteen dollars,” she said to the attractive biker.

“I thought family drank for free,” he stated with a flirtatious grin.

“What, you don’t get enough free stuff while you’re here?” she demanded.

“Awww, Mia, come on,” he whined. His eyes slid to Tiffany who was looking on

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