But Mel hooked an arm around my neck.
“Trixie’s.”
I hesitated for half a second. Then I nodded.
Trixie’s was dim, sticky-floored, and perfect. We commandeered a corner booth. Robin ordered something sensible. Mel ordered a beer. Zella ordered something neon. Sonia stole fries from all of us.
For a little while, it was easy. We laughed and gossiped, even complained about referees.
Then Mel leaned back and narrowed her eyes at me.
“Okay. Spill.”
I sighed.
“I got reassigned.”
Robin’s head tilted. “To what?”
“Another house. Full-time.”
Mel’s expression darkened immediately. “That slimy little?—”
“If I don’t take it, I’m fired,” I added.
Silence fell around the table.
“And?” Sonia asked.
“And Raph told me to quit.”
Mel snorted. “Of course he did.”
“He offered to pay me double what I make.”
Zella choked slightly on her drink. “Well damn.”
Sonia leaned forward. “And?”
“And I didn’t say yes.”
Robin watched me carefully. “What did you say?”
“I told him I didn’t want to belong to someone.”
Mel’s eyes softened a fraction.
Zella tapped her nails against her glass. “Girl,” she said, “if a rich, sexy man wants to pay you to cook and exist, you take the money and run.”
A few of them laughed. Sonia raised her glass.
“I mean. There are worse exit strategies.”
Robin didn’t laugh. “Be careful.”
The table quieted.
“I know,” I said.
