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I reached the seat beside her, and she turned to look at me.
We stared back and forth in silence. My palms grew sweaty. She eventually narrowed her eyes.
I finally took a seat. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I just completed my education at university, and it’s my great ambition to join the National Assembly someday. I know I could speak to your husband about this, but woman to woman, do you have any advice?”
After she processed my words for a few seconds, she smiled. “I would be happy to share my wisdom with the next generation, honey.”
Oh, thank god.
She started asking me questions, and I did my best to bullshit my way through it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her husband step away. Bartholomew at his side, they left the table and then the room entirely.
* * *
It was after midnight when we finally left. The fog was heavier than before. With every breath I took, the air burned my lungs like cigar smoke. We approached the sidewalk, and then the dark SUV emerged out of nowhere, like the driver tracked Bartholomew everywhere he went in anticipation of his needs.
“Did your conversation go well?”
He opened the back door for me. “Yes.”
“What did you talk about?” I climbed into the seat.
He shut the door and never answered my question. Then he appeared beside me a moment later and didn’t greet the driver or provide directions to the next destination.
“Couldn’t you just have one of your men do this? Or any woman, really? It would save you a lot of money.”
His knees were wide apart, and his elbow rested on the windowsill. “Free labor is shit labor.”
“But there’s still got to be someone better suited for this than me.”
“Are you saying you don’t want the job?” He turned to look at me, his eyes sharp like he wasn’t the least bit tired.
“No. I just… I’m not quick on my feet.”
“You were quick tonight.”
“Doesn’t mean that it’ll always happen.”
He looked out the window again. “Women like you are used to being around men like me. You’re used to playing a part. You’re used to acting like you enjoy a fat guy’s dick up your ass. That means you’re perfect for this line of work.”
“What did you want him to do for you?”
He looked out the window in silence.
I watched the streets pass and realized we were headed in the opposite direction of my apartment. “Where are we going?”
Silence stretched again, endlessly. Then he spoke. “The night is young.”
* * *
We pulled up to a nightclub.
Bartholomew got out first then came for me. He cut in front of the line of people waiting outside in the freezing cold and stepped into the cloud of body heat from the patrons crammed inside. The music was loud, the bass made everything throb, and it was so dark you could barely make anything out.
I was too old for this shit.
When the crowd came between us and we started to break apart, Bartholomew grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me to his side. His arm slid around my waist and kept me close as he navigated me to our destination.
We moved behind a couple doors and then went downstairs—into the basement.
