and said, “The bathroom isn’t open to the public.”
I scratched at the desk with a fingernail as if I was testing a mineral’s hardness. “I’m glad I peed back at the QuikTrip then. They have free paper towels and a twenty-five-cent tampon dispenser. Best accommodations you can find on the South Side.”
“How generous of them,” he said drily. “I’m sure if you return, you’ll be able to find patronage closer to your . . . qualifications.”
“Wow,” I chuckled, my curious fingers grasping a glass paperweight. “I think that’s the sweetest way anyone has ever called me a cheap whore before.”
He stole the paperweight in my hand that was angled toward the light while I examined the facets inside and snapped, “What will make you disappear?”
I raised a brow. “You know, Alfred, you’re not my usual type, but if you keep talking to me like that, I might change my mind.”
His expression conveyed he wouldn’t touch me with the end of a broomstick, and it brought a soft laugh from me.
“Okay, just business then.” Pulling a moist envelope from my back pocket, I slid it onto the desk. “I need to deliver this to one of your patrons, and I promise you’ll never see me again.”
I’d been doing this side job for my neighbor Lucas for a few months. He gave me a package—sometimes just an envelope—and I delivered it. The gig was most likely illegal: Drugs, black-market goods, or some kind of secret political revolution. I didn’t ask questions. Occasionally, the extra money was the only thing that kept the lights on.
“I’m sorry, Miss . . .” He waited for a last name.
I gave him my first. “Emilia.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Emilia, but this is a private club. The only way you’re getting inside is if you’re a guest of a member.” His gaze settled on a spaghetti stain on my T-shirt. “Considering the unlikelihood of that ever happening, do us both a favor and leave.”
I inhaled a deep breath for patience. Although, patience was a virtue, and I’d lost most of those years ago.
“Listen, Alfred. I worked a double shift today, and then I walked twelve blocks to get here. I’m tired. I’m so tired I’m considering curling up on your nice floor, shedding a few tears, and making a big scene. See this envelope?” I waved it in his face. “I don’t get paid unless I personally put it in the recipient’s hand. Now are you going to let me do that, or do I need to make a scene?”
Alfred stared at me for a long second before he picked up his phone and said, “Security.”
Ugh.
I shouldn’t have touched his stupid desk.
I could sit outside and chance getting struck by lightning until Mr. Brown exited. Although, soaking wet in a chauvinistic strip club, it was clear I’d already gambled with luck tonight and lost. Not to mention, my bed was calling my name, and I needed the two hundred dollars this job would bring in—plus, hopefully, a decent tip.
I glanced from the envelope in my hand to the black curtain concealing the room beyond.
Alfred’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare—”
Pushing the curtain aside, I waltzed in. The sensual smell of perfumed skin, illegal blowjobs, and cigar smoke hit me in the face.
The lighting sat at a low romantic glow, and the booths were red, occupied by a few men in expensive suits sipping even more expensive liquor. A couple of women in lingerie served drinks, while a naked brunette danced on a pole in the center of the room.
While this club was the furthest thing from the one I remembered as a child, the carnal atmosphere still coated my skin with slimy déjà vu.
I searched for Mr. Brown from the ridiculously vague description Lucas had given me: white, early thirties, black hair. I examined each man as I passed, receiving interested glances and even a proposition to sit down from a middle-aged man with a gold band on his ring finger.
I put a hand on my chest as if I was surprised and would be deeply honored to. He smiled a toothy grin and patted the spot beside him. Resting a palm on the table, I leaned in provocatively and whispered, “Not if you were the last man on Earth.”
I didn’t stick around to see the smile fall off his face.
Alfred seethed from across the room. His accusing eyes followed my movements as if I was a wild animal who’d been released inside his precious den of iniquity.
Security must be