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Good.
“I’m happy to make a deal,” I continue, looking around the room like I’m bored. Two men stand near the door, one looking annoyed, the other looking bored.
I would put money on the one who is bored being the one in charge and that his bored look isn’t boredom at all. It’s a carefully curated mask, put there to look inconspicuous. Uninteresting. You don’t pay attention to the bored person in the room, and you don’t watch your words in front of them.
It was my specialty, after all—staying quiet, looking pretty, and being bored. But always, always listening.
My father—the man who raised me—always says I’m his biggest asset because of it. That I need to be protected at all costs, that he needs me at every fundraiser, every gala as his secret weapon.
Smile and look pretty, my gorgeous Delilah. But keep those ears open.
And then I would be locked back up in my tower, unable to explore. Get the information, deliver it, and head back to my boring life in my fancy apartment.
My sister Lola got to explore, to stay in Ocean View, help with the negotiations and the planning. Lola got to start her own business, chase her dreams, and be fearless.
Of course, I don’t hold that against her, not anymore. Not now that I know what it cost her.
But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a time when I hated her for that, for having what I saw as freedom. It was really a prison of her own, though. Just a different version.
All created by Shane Turner and the Carluccios.
They’ll pay, of course. Pay for putting us in our prisons.
“A deal?” Paulie says, knocking me from my thoughts.
“A deal. I want to make a deal with you.”
Three
-Lilah-
And that’s how I got here, chatting with the dancers of Jerzy Girls on a random Tuesday afternoon, ready to start my eight-hour shift.
The deal we made was I pay off the debt my father collected by working at Jerzy Girls, dancing for the creepy men of Jersey City. Paulie gets my tips, and I get a measly allowance to live off of.
And my father is blacklisted.
No more betting.
No more gambling.
No more debts.
If he wants to rack up more, put his career and his family at risk, he’ll have to do it in plain sight. Because when you’re blacklisted by the Carluccios, word travels fast. Shane Turner will have to leave the entire tristate area to sit at a secret table. The addiction that once came easily will no longer be available to him.
And all it took was selling myself.
But, of course, that’s not my only motivation for showing my tits to lonely men every night for nearly five weeks straight.
I’m here looking for dirt. Something to help me, something—anything—that I can use to take these fuckers down.
And hopefully, take Shane Turner down with them.
“Do you think he’ll be here again today?” Tina asks when she sees me after walking through the door that leads from the dressing room to on stage.
I don’t ask who “he” is.
I know.
