“What’s your cut?”
“I take 15 percent from what each dancer who works after my performance gets tipped out for.”
“Anything else? What is the house fund to you?”
I shake my head. “There is no house fund.”
This makes him look up at me, eyes narrowed. “You only get paid if a dancer makes a profit after you’re done?”
I nod.
“How much do they pay to the house?”
“Twenty-five percent for the night.”
“And if they choose not to work after you perform, they only pay that and nothing to you?”
I shrug with another nod.
His lips thin out as he continues to look at me.
“You’ll start on salary, starting today. You and the waitstaff, to include security. The dancers’ cut to the house will be increased to 50 percent a night.” He goes back to writing something down on his paper.
I’m not sure if the girls will like that, but I’m not the one cutting them out, so I shouldn’t care. They never seemed to be bothered if I was shortchanged before. Still, I feel a bit bad. Just a little.
“Ah….”
He stills his pen and looks up from under thick eyelashes. “That a problem?”
“Um, sort of. I… can I get it in cash?”
“Cash?”
I nod quickly. “Yes.”
He squints with a head tilt. “Why?”
Carl never asked why. Actually, he insisted it was cash. I never had to lie before like this, so the first thing that pops into my head is what I go with.
“Rent.”
He tosses the pen down and leans back in his chair, folding his hands over his impressively flat stomach. “Your landlord prefers you to pay cash over a direct deposit or even a credit card?”
I dip my chin slowly as I take in my own words. “Yup.”
He only raises an eyebrow at the obvious lie. Most landlords don’t take cash anymore. “Where do you live?”
“Brooklyn.”
His lips twitch at that. Of course I live in Brooklyn. The club is in Brooklyn, so it makes sense.
“Which part?”
“On the east side.” My voice squeaks on the last word, and I have to cough to clear my throat. I grab one of the water bottles from his desk, uncapping it quickly and drinking fast.
Two loud knocks on the door make me jump, spilling water down my chin. Wiping it off, I pull the bottle away and look at the door, but it doesn’t open. From the way Tommy moves to sit higher in his chair, I get the feeling it was to alert him of something. Maybe Carl needs to talk to him. Or maybe his next interview is set up.
“Right. We’ll keep the same routine tonight as you’ve done before. However, expect changes to occur, including renovations to the club.”
