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It’s been two weeks since Tug made me feel more like a prostitute than any of the men at the club ever had. I haven’t been to work since, and this morning my boss called to let me know I’m fired, which means I’ll have to dip into funds that I have no business spending in order to survive. But I can’t go back to that life.
I enter the club to pick up my things. My boss waves me over to the bar where he’s seated. He’s a good guy, American, probably hiding out in Mexico to avoid paying child support or taxes, as most are. He’s always been nice to me and fairer than he is with most of the girls.
“Hey, Mark.”
He smiles. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You never were cut out for this.”
“I know. I was so close to finishing school, though.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Take the final semester off and work two jobs until I figure something else out.”
He hands me a thick envelope.
“What’s this?”
“It’s from the other night. I didn’t even take a cut. It should help.”
“How much is it?”
“Two thousand. That guy really wanted you.”
I nearly choke. The amount makes the other night hurt that much more.
“Listen, if you need anything, you call me, okay?”
“Okay.”
He laughs softly and gets up from the bar stool. “Hmm … I know you won’t, but you can.”
“Thank you.”
I hug my boss and pack my things from the dressing room into a backpack.
As I exit the club, I run smack dab into a familiar face. “Brady, hi. What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you. Do you have time to talk?”
“Um … sure, but not here.”
We walk the strip for several blocks without speaking. Brady stops at the next corner. His brow wrinkles when he looks at me.
“Look, Monica…”
“It’s Maria,” I correct him.
“Right. I want to apologize for how my brother treated you.”
I shake my head and smile. “You’re not the one who needs to apologize.” The words come out sounding rude, but I can’t help it. His family constantly trying to smooth over Tug’s mistakes is irritating. Maybe if they quit enabling him, he’d grow up.
“No, but I wanted to anyway,” Brady says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know you’ve been looking for a way out of the club for a while, and I have a job for you, if you’re interested.”
Excitement zings through me, but I hide my surprise. “Well, since I quit the club two weeks ago, I’ll take anything I can get.”
Brady smiles. “I invested in a restaurant in the Gas Lamp with my friend, Davey. We need someone to deal with the waitresses, scheduling, and all of the tedious things Davey doesn’t want to be bothered with. You’d be on the floor, making sure everything runs smoothly. It’s upscale, so you’l
l have to cover the tattoos with sleeves, but it pays well.”
