Crazy Eights (Stacked Deck #8) - Emilia Finn Page 0,4

pad of her thumb beneath my bottom lip, and swipes away a little of the red that I messed up. “You gotta look the part, huh? Around here, money flows better if you look good.”

I shrug, then swallow my groan when my shoulder smarts. “I don’t really care.” Our eyes meet, her forest green to my denim blue. “Is messy lipstick really gonna be make or break for us?”

“Nope.” She grins, wide and playful, as she pulls back and flicks my breast. “This is your make or break. And your booty. Which is also super above-average.”

I snort and turn back to my mirror to work on my mascara. “From the queen of badonkadonks, that’s high praise. How are you feeling about tonight?” I make a face, a cross between confusion and sucked-on-a-lemon. “It all feels different, right? Things are changing.”

Lita – dressed in ridiculously high heels, fire engine red bikini bottoms, and not a hell of a lot more than tassels on her nipples – leans against my mirror, and folds her arms. It’s her thinking pose, her I’m being a serious adult pose. “Well… I don’t know. I guess things feel a little different, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. When Sly owned this place, it wasn’t always clean, you know? Now Evan is doing it up, so it feels a little classier, and the cash they throw is worth more than a dollar.”

“I guess.” I run mascara through my lashes and stare into my mirror. “I guess I just mean… well, Sly was sly. He was a pervert, and not particularly charming. But at least he was transparent about his intentions. Sure, he wanted to fuck me, but he was honest about it. And that counts for something, right?”

Lita’s bright red lips shimmer and turn up into a crooked grin. “So, his honesty about what he wanted to do to you was…” She lifts a brow. “Welcome?”

“Not welcome.” I laugh. “But honesty brings a certain level of comfort, and when a girl doesn’t have much else, honesty is worth a lot.” I stop with the mascara for a moment, study my work, then I start on the other eye. “Evan is just…” I hesitate. “Well, I guess he wants to fuck me too, but he’s smoother about it, he’s a schemer, and the scheming bothers me.”

“Ya know,” Lita taunts, “if you’d just fuck him, the scheming would go away. And you could probably quit working, too. You’d be set for life, and protected in a way that, without him, you’ll never know. And then you’ll get to sit in that office up there.” She nods toward a spiral staircase that leads to the next floor up, and above that, a fancy apartment that no one but the people Evan considers ‘elite’ are invited into.

Her plan is solid. I know it is. Evan isn’t some seventy-year-old weirdo with a fetish for twenty-three-year-old dancers. But a thirty-year-old businessman, a well-dressed, handsome, smells-nice-when-he-walks-by businessman. And god knows, I could do with the help.

For a girl in my position, money, protection, and the networks Evan controls are mighty friggin’ tempting. But despite the myriad opportunities I’ve had to make my life a little easier, I can’t do it. I can’t slide between Evan’s expensive silk sheets, in his high-rise apartment, after riding in his midnight-black, five-hundred-thousand-dollar town car.

My survival instincts demand I get over my shit and slide on in.

But how could I? How could I possibly be expected to give myself to this man, all for the sake of a few dollars and safety, when every time Evan’s hands touch my skin, another man’s face flashes through my mind?

It’s impossible.

And my pride, I’m somewhat annoyed to admit, is stronger than my hunger for safety, security, or, ya know, food.

“No.” I go back to work on my mascara. “I can’t. I don’t wanna.”

And Lita is the only person on this planet I would admit that to. Because around here, Evan is synonymous with God, and if you defy him, he’s proven he will smite more savagely than a scorned wife after a messy divorce.

Lita tsks and shakes her head. “He’s got his eyes on you, girl. That’s all I’m saying.”

I finish with my mascara, stare at my reflection for a moment, then I exhale and toss the tube down to my little table. “I’m ready.”

I turn to my friend and try to fake a smile. “I can’t say yes to Evan. I’m a lot of things, Lita. I’m a thief, a