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When I turned to walk over to Louis, Jessie reached for me again. “We could just wait. I mean, this won’t take very long, will it?” She glanced at Louis, then back at me.
I closed my eyes for a half a second, then forced them open again. I would have told her yes normally, but there was nothing normal about my life anymore. And I knew Louis standing there likely meant more than just a delivery of drugs. “Actually, I may have to duck out for a bit and I know Mrs. Walsh can’t wait for me to get back.” I motioned towards the middle-aged woman in the chair. “I can’t afford for her to reschedule.”
Jessie frowned. “What is going on with you lately?” she asked, her voice hushed and her tone concerned. “You’ve been weird ever since the fire.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I couldn’t exactly tell her what was going on, though part of me desperately wanted to. A shoulder to cry on, a sympathetic ear…but then maybe she wouldn’t be so sympathetic. What if she decided I was disgusting and no longer wanted anything to do with me?
Unwilling to risk either our personal or working relationship, I kept my mouth shut about it. Instead, I told her it was the fire and the insurance. “They’ve been dogging me. If I don’t get this stuff taken care of now, that curtain’s going to be up straight through the winter.” I waved my hand at the offending thing. “And we both know neither of us can afford that. So, please, do this for me?”
She still looked uncomfortable, but eventually nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
When Jessie turned back to Mrs. Walsh, I let out a sigh of relief. I turned back to Louis to find him waiting patiently. A scowl on my face, I went over to him and snatched the clipboard. It was bogus, of course. No drug dealer with half a brain would have an inventory of their stash, but I still had to sign off on everything so it all looked kosher on the surface.
Briefly, I looked over the invoice, then glanced up at Louis to raise an eyebrow at him. “Bananas. Seriously?”
“Just sign it,” he told me flatly.
Gritting my teeth, I did as I was told, because what other option was there? After I handed back the clipboard, he turned and motioned towards some guys who had been waiting outside. They carried in crates and by the looks of them, they had bananas in them. I, of course, knew that beneath the top layer of bananas, there was some kind of illegal drug. Crate after crate was carried to the back of my store.
When the guys were finally done, I turned to Louis once more. Folding my arms across my chest, I fixed him with a cool stare. “Is that all?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
“No. The boss wants to see you. You’ve got a payment to make.”
Even as my skin crawled with disgust, I felt a flash of want. Desire was a tricky bitch, because no matter how much I tried to convince myself I didn’t want Ethan, my body continued to disagree. “Fine.”
Without another word, I walked out with Louis. He opened the door of his sleek black car for me, but nothing could make me feel better about where I was headed. The ride was silent, not even the radio on, and I was almost relieved when we arrived at the hotel where I’d meet Ethan. In the last week, he’d called in his little “payments” once a day, except for Sunday. I didn’t know or care what or who he was doing then. I was just grateful it wasn’t me.
Some days, I’d go to his office at the diner. We’d do it on his desk or standing up with me pressed against the window. Other days, he’d take me in the back of Louis’s car while Louis sat up front. And sometimes he’d set up a room at the hotel, his hotel, where he’d have his way with me for as long as he wanted.
My face fell a little at seeing the hotel today. It meant it would probably be a long session. As Louis opened the car door for me, I pulled out my cell to text Jessie. I’d have to let her know I’d be a while. Before I could even start a message to her, however, Louis snatched the phone from my hand.
“What the hell, Louis?” I demanded angrily.
He shoved the phone into his pocket and started walking towards the hotel. Over his shoulder he told me, “No calls. You know the deal.”
The deal, as Ethan put it, was Ethan fucked me for as long and hard as he wanted, then sent me back to work or home or wherever. And in exchange for this great service, I couldn’t tell anyone what was going on. Not that I was exactly eager to in the first place. The last thing I needed was people thinking I was a drug hoarding prostitute.
