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“I said dress slutty, you look like an ad for Urban Outfitters.”
“Well, I didn’t know what you meant,” Carmen complained as she ushered me inside. “I’ve never been to The Stagger In, I don’t know what they wear there. And this romper shows off a lot of leg and cleavage, so…”
“Take me to your closet,” I demanded.
Once I had her in short shorts, a tight tank top that I transformed into a tube top, and her hair in a high, messy bun, I deemed her fit for The Stagger In, and we were off.
The Stagger In was a dump, and that was being generous.
Dark, dirty, with a hint of seedy, the bar was filled with rough dudes and strung-out women. The TVs were turned to various sporting events, and the only thing on tap was Budweiser.
Carmen and I went straight for the bar. I ordered us two rum and Cokes, thinking that would be a safe enough drink. Wouldn’t get us too drunk, but wouldn’t make us look like foo foo drinkers either. We needed to fit in any way we could.
Carmen sniffed the glass, then grimaced before taking a sip.
“Wow, that’s pretty much straight rum.”
“Drink slowly, you want to keep your wits about you,” I advised, then leaned back against the bar to survey the area.
There was no dance floor, but there was a jukebox with a man and woman wrapped around each other in front of it. I wouldn’t call what they were doing dancing;
it was more like dry humping while standing up.
Hmmm, that takes talent…
Moving on, my eyes took in the random biker, chick in four-inch heels who looked about to topple over, and group of men playing pool and taunting each other loudly, before landing on four men sitting in a corner booth. They were pretty well hidden, but I could see that two of the men looked to be packing heat, while the one in the middle seemed to be the boss.
He was shorter than I expected, maybe around my height, with dark slicked-back hair and a lot of jewelry. Not cool jewelry like Cade’s, more like big clunky gold pieces that he wore to show how important he was.
The man screamed sleaze ball, and I was sure I was looking at Dale the Bookie.
I leaned in to whisper to Carmen.
“You go talk to those women over there.” I lifted my chin toward a table to the left of us, where a bunch of women were doing shots and talking over each other. “See if any of them knew Samantha. I’m going to find out if that’s Dale.”
“Okay,” Carmen said, her voice tinged with excitement. “Be careful.”
I nodded, then sauntered away. I went to the jukebox, leaned against so as to show off plenty of legs and ass, then bent slightly and pretended to search for a song.
When I felt a hand touch my ass, then cup it and begin to lower, I straightened and turned quickly, almost falling over before that same hand grabbed my elbow and steadied me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Cade asked, and I wasn’t sure if I was pleased it had been his hand on my ass, or pissed that he’d followed me here.
“Working,” I snapped, pushing his hand away. “What are you doing here?”
“You said you’d be here, so I figured we could talk to this bookie together,” Cade answered, his brow furrowed as he took in my getup. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“I don’t know, Cade, maybe because I’m here to get close to a bookie and I didn’t think my normal mom clothes would work,” I hissed, looking around to make sure no one was listening.
“You always look hot,” Cade said, and my heart warmed, until he ruined it by adding, “Except now. Now you look trashy. What happened to your hair?”
“Can we maybe talk about this later?” I whispered, looking over to see that Dale was getting up from his booth.
“You want to talk to scum like that guy,” Cade said, gesturing behind him with his thumb to indicate Dale and his goons. “You let me know and I’ll take care of it. What you don’t do is try to dress like one of his girls and try to seduce him. I’m not okay with that shit.”
“What do you mean one of his girls?” I asked, using air quotations. “And how would you handle it, since you seem to think my way’s so wrong?”
I looked around Cade to see Carmen watching us with wide eyes, I gave her a thumbs up and turned my attention back to the angry man in front of me.
