Page 13 of Two For One

Was I going crazy?

The last few days, it had felt like someone had been following me. At first, I thought I was just feeling something spiritual, but it followed only when I was out and about.

Did someone follow me from the club?

I was very careful when I went home, taking a longer route every time and if I felt something wrong, I ended up eating at a diner watching my surroundings carefully. The craft store was empty when I entered. The cashier said hello as I perused the store, looking for things I could use in my next snail mail. The Halloween things were out already, just in time for me to plan my October mailing. I was looking at stationary when a man in a baseball cap, low enough that I could barely see his eyes, walked in.

He reminded me of the man I had danced for, and I leaned forward to catch a better view of him as he talked to the cashier. Apparently, you can’t stay upright when you lean forward, so I took down a few things from the endcap which made a loud crash. My face instantly heated up as I scrambled to sit upright.

“Ma’am, are you ok?” The cashier asked with concern on her face.

“Uh, yeah. I was bend and snapping,” I chuckled, feeling more embarrassed as the man I was checking out looked over to us, scowling like I was bothering him. Thankfully, it wasn’t my mystery man.

The girl blinked owlishly, not getting my Legally Blonde reference.

“Sorry, bad joke,” I murmured again, standing up, rolling my wrist that felt a little stiff.

“It’s ok, next time you need something just ask,” she said, as I helped her put things away.

“Yup, you got it!”

I grabbed my basket, deciding that was enough fun for one day. It was best I didn’t see that man again, and that was enough being around people for me.

I regretted coming in for work after I had fallen. My wrist was killing me as I held the tray above my head, weaving in between the tables on a Friday night. It was packed with a lot of men conducting business as women danced for them in nipple tassels and thongs. I guess seeing tits made people willing to make deals faster or more willingly?

My tables were all serious, making me wonder what the hell was going on that so many men were arguing with each other. It felt like a scantily clad boardroom with how many men were having these heated discussions about drugs, money laundering and sleazy politicians who tried to keep or take power. Those were my favorites to spy on, because Madame Red was very much into politics and if there was someone who was against our best interests, they didn’t hold a seat for very long.

“You’re needed in the black room,” Mason yelled, giving me another round of drinks.

“I don’t have time!” I yelled.

“Wyoming asked for you,” he said, handing me the last of my drinks.

“Fuck,” I growled, so ready to go home.

“Sorry, babe,” he said, giving me a sad smile. “Two more hours and you can go.”

I nodded, taking the drinks to my table, smiling, laughing at a horrible joke because Jim liked it when my boobs bounced as I laughed. He and I both knew I wasn’t actually laughing, but he tipped me well, so I couldn’t complain when he also kept his hands to himself. I excused myself, and grabbed a water as I made my way down the hall to the conference rooms. Apparently. these were made for our extra sensitive meetings, usually between politicians and bad people.

Judd stood outside the door, stoic, without even saying hello. It put me on edge because he usually flirted with me. We locked eyes as he grabbed the door handle.

“Careful,” he whispered.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up at the warning. Something was not right. I walked in slowly at first, gaining more confidence, walking further into the room that was silent.

“Hiya, boys. What can I get ya?” I said, looking at each of the men, seeing Danny and a few other senators, but the men at the end of the table took me by surprise. It was the man who had paid for my dance and the man he had come with. The latter was dashing in a full suit, looking every bit of a mob boss but like a GQ mob boss. His dark blonde hair and blue eyes looked striking in his all-black suit. The man who paid for the dance sat next to him with a medical mask on and a cap. He was decked out in full tactical gear, but missing the big gun I usually saw men like him wear because Madame Red didn’t allow guns in her establishment. It was almost comical how different they looked.

“Bring a bottle.” Danny nodded.

“We will take a separate bottle,” Mafia Man said, pulling out a hundred-dollar bill. “Single malt, preferably a Dalmore or Arran.”

I walked over to them, keeping my eyes on the mystery man swaying my hips just a tad more.

“You got it, shugga,” I said, plucking the hundred from him. I stuffed it in my tits, turning around to leave when he caught my arm.

My brows rose when he gently pulled me towards him.

“Make sure that bottle is sealed, and you open it in front of us,” he said softly, handing me another hundred-dollar bill.