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I signed the book at the front desk, and I walked upstairs to the dressing room. Some the girls had already started their shift; I was working fairly late. Monique passed by me and gave me a wink. I was glad that we were finally friends. At least, I think if Monique had friends, I would be one of them, and I knew that she would bail me out of jail anytime I needed it. I could trust her, but Hudson didn't trust anyone, so I couldn't tell her about us. She sashayed down towards the wooden doors, and out onto the ramp down at the club. I dropped my coat at my station, and shook out my hair before following her. As soon as I walked into the cigar smoke-filled room, I felt safe. No one would ever try anything at the club; they weren't that stupid. Security was tight, and the Madame knew everyone’s secrets.
Immediately, I noticed a few men eyeing me up, and I walked over to the bar to get a tray full of drinks. It was the easiest way to get an introduction. The bartender quickly filled the tray with six shots of tequila, and I began wandering around the tables. I noticed many of the men were already preoccupied with other girls, so I steered clear of those tables. Getting into a catfight was not my plan. I noticed a booth in the back that was for some of the higher-end clientele where their glasses were empty. I figured, if nothing else, I could at least get a tip.
“Drinks, boys?”
A man in his early fifties with a black suit and red tie spoke. “What do you say, gentlemen?”
They nodded in agreement.
The first man spoke again. “What do you have?”
I smiled at him flirtatiously. “Why don’t I sit down and show you?”
“Join us.” I thought I heard a hint of a Russian accent, but it was just my nerves.
I sat down on the edge the booth next to him, and put the tray on the table. “Tequila,” I said, winking at him.
He smiled broadly at me, and then took a shot in his hands. “Gentlemen? We don't want to turn the nice lady down, do we?”
There were three other men at the table, all in similar suits and red ties. They looked at me greedily, and I suddenly wondered if I'd gotten in over my head. I'd never been to one of the high roller tables before. This may have not been my best idea. The other men raised their shots, and all downed them in one gulp.
The man I had been speaking to
shook his head as he set the glass back down on the tray. “That's got a bite to it, doesn't it?”
“I'm sure it does. Only the best tequila served here.”
“Are you new around here, girlie? I don't recognize you.”
“I've been around. But not for long.”
One of the other men spoke, sounded more like a growl that a voice. “What's your name?”
“Calla.”
The first man I’d been talking to nodded. “We might have some information that could interest you, Calla. Perhaps a business arrangement.”
This was moving a lot faster than I expected. “Oh? And what is that?” I asked innocently.
“Why don’t you take my card?”
“Your card? You mean your membership card?”
“No. My business card. In ten minutes, we’re going to leave this table, and I will leave it here for you. I think you're going to be very interested in who I do business with.”
I gulped. “Okay.”
“Time for you to go, Calla, so we can make our exit. Leave the tray.”
I nodded, and swiftly got up from the table. I walked back to the bar, and stood leaning on it, watching the table like a hawk. In just a few minutes, they left, and I took a deep breath before walking back over, and picking up the tray. Beneath it was a hundred dollar bill and a business card.
In red letters it read:
Rudolph Lenko
Shit. I was in trouble.
Chapter Twenty-Six
