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"Ha. Ironically, I want to move it under the Baxter umbrella, so maybe I'll learn the hard way as well."
He shakes his head. "No, your brothers aren't the same. The company will do well under Baxter Industries. In a way, this is the best compliment he could give you, cutting off a piece of himself and knowing you’ll take care of it."
For a second I’m not quite sure whether he means the company… or Kiara.
"Blackmailing me into giving his daughter a job?" I say, only half-joking. As much as I love and admire the man, he is a bulldog, and I wouldn't have expected him to do any differently to get what he wants.
I turn the scrunched-up paper in my palm, looking at her name scribbled in Dennis’s hand and sigh. Getting Kiara to forget that I’m her mortal enemy is going to take more charm than I currently possess.
And for the first time in a long time, I don’t know what to do.
four
Kiara
Everylittlethingaboutthis club makes me want to retch, from the location, to the humidity, to the smell of stale beer and untreated mold rising up the walls hidden behind chipping paint and flashing lights.
The hostess leads me through the throng of sweaty bodies and I bite back a yelp as a clammy hand brushes against the bare skin of my thigh at the same time someone else stomps down on my foot. My hand itches at my side not to slap the grin right off the stomper’s face.
Gritting my teeth, I focus on the bobbing high ponytail on the hostess’s head as she nears a side exit.
"In there," she yells, barely audible over the thumping music, pointing to a dark hallway covered by a tattered bead curtain.
I'd be wary if I hadn't walked through a hundred such hallways before.
It's just a part of my job now.
Part of my entire identity.
I slide a tip into her hand; she bows a thank you and I wait until she’s gone before I slip through the curtain. If the owners knew the real reason I was here and that the hostess helped, she'd be out of a job. Not that I’m really sure she knows what she’s doing other than showing me to a hallway but that’s okay. The less she knows the better.
Part way down the narrow corridor, I find myself at a door, grimy and paint chipped. I rap three times on it, pause, and then two fast knocks. It's only a few seconds before the door opens and I’m yanked inside.
It's a janitor's closet and inside stands a young girl dressed in a skirt so short I can see the fire engine red lace hem of her panties. Her makeup is smeared from tears and her smoke- ringed eyes are red from being rubbed. Standing next to her is my friend Jimmy, the janitor, the one who called me here.
"This is Miss Kiara, she is going to help you," he says to her in Cantonese. "You can trust her. She is safe, okay?"
She nervously looks at me, and then back down at her hands. I notice the nails are torn to shreds.
Jimmy turns to me. "Her name is Shi Lei, she's only been here for a few days, but... she's not cut out for it."
I nod and pull out a packet of clean tissues from my purse that I hand to the weeping girl.
She looks over at me and then back at Jimmy who gives her a reassuring nod. Her trembling hand reaches out for the tissues just as her face collapses again, shoulders shaking.
Her fear is palpable, thumping in the air like the bass shaking the walls.
I kneel, making sure not to touch her.
"You are okay now. You don't know it yet, but you can trust me. I'm here to help you. Jimmy's a good guy, right? Ugly and could use a bath, but good," I gently joke, and am rewarded with the faintest glimmer of a smile. "Do you have anything you need to get before we go?"
She looks up, startled. "Go?"
"Yes, I have a car waiting outside. Jimmy will help you out the side door and I'll take you somewhere safe, okay?"
Shi Lei grips the sides of the chair. It's nothing I've not seen before. Whatever’s happened here, she knows she's survived it. Who knows where this stranger might take her, what might wait there?
Jimmy leans in, keeping his voice low, even. "She has a bag in the office. The boss makes them all leave them there when they come in for the night."
