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X: Were you satisfied with your payment?

I sit cross-legged on the bed, one of my old textbooks open in front of me, with the burner cell sitting on the page. He sent that just as I was picking Zoe up from school. She was so delighted when she ran over, smiling in that big cheeky way. It lights me up. It makes it all worth it.

And she’s another reason I don’t need to reply to this. It’s provocative. Cheeky. He enjoys poking me, and I’m thinking I like it too.

Iris: Has anyone ever told you that you’re a teensy bit needy?

His reply comes almost instantly. It makes me think of him hunched over his phone, waiting for me… though he doesn’t even know who I am. Who would he be imagining? Or does he know, but he hasn’t told me?

X: I don’t mind being a teensy bit needy with you. Or cheesy, as you’re about to point out.

Iris: Maybe you just have no one else to text like this. Or maybe I’m just special.

I’m smiling as I send the message, meaning it as a joke. But then I read it again and realize how forward it is, how… flirty, let’s be honest. And I don’t want to do that. It doesn’t even make any sense to do that.

X: Now who’s the cheesy one?

Iris: Hey, you called yourself cheesy.

X: Are you going to put that toward your club fund?

Iris: I wish. It’s going in the hole.

X: The hole?

Iris: The money hole. Don’t you have one of those? They’re magical. Any time you earn money, it eats it up.

X: I’ve been rich for too long. That sounds tough.

Iris: It’s fine.

X: It’s not fine, Iris. You clearly have dreams.

Iris: My only dream is to keep this gig going.

X: What does that mean? You can’t keep it going and talk to me?

A shiver runs through me. I see him as he was earlier, staring through the steam, those bluish, grayish eyes watching intensely. Maybe he was standing at the glass last night, watching me with those men. It only occurred to me after… he could link it together. Or he could go back and piece it together on the CCTV. His word is all I have.

Iris: You’re making this something it doesn’t need to be. I just want to do my job.

X: I’m just texting, Iris. I don’t know who you are, so how can I make this into anything?

Iris: As long as we’re clear.

He doesn’t reply to that. I put both my phones to charge, then head downstairs. I want to spend some time with my people before another shift at Vanta.

I already regret sending Nikolai that message. He feels like he can talk to me, and I’m not sure if he has that anywhere else. But at the same time, I do have to put myself first. My Zoe, my Rosa, my Pico. And eventually, myself.

After hugging Zoe good night, I head to work. The first thing I see when I walk onto the floor is a group of women trying to drag Nikolai to the dance floor. I’m shocked by how tight my chest suddenly gets. My stomach twists into a knot. My instant, visceral reaction is to drag them away from him. Then I come to my senses. I push that instinct down.

But I’m secretly relieved when he pulls himself away. One of the women has her phone out. They’ve clearly come to see his stunt. He sees me looking and walks over, leaning down to talk in my ear. The music is louder on the main floor.

His breath is warm and tickles down my neck. Is he like this with all of us? Or does he not realize how close he’s getting? Or, maybe, just maybe, he’s being his regular self, and I’m making this into something it’s not.

“Save me, please, I beg you,” he says, laughing.

“Most men wouldn’t want saving.”