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I’m impressed by her banter, but the real test is how easily she’ll hand over the money. None of this matters if she’s not forking over a cool two grand every week. I’ll only work with her if she can work with me. No compromises.
Oakley receives a beer from the hawkish woman and slides it over to me, propping herself up on the bar with her elbows and speaking to me like an old friend. “How was the drive?”
I shrug, taking a sip of my beer and wondering if she’s poisoned it. “Same shit, different day. Isn’t that what you Americans say?”
“I thought the Bratva was more glamorous than that,” she teases.
“Oh, it’s glamorous, just not when you’re riding around collecting money from people. Once you get home and jump into a bathtub full of it, things start to get fun.”
She tilts her head to the side curiously. “I bet you make a lot from this.”
“Enough to pay the bills,” I reply, taking another sip. The cool foam on my lips is the only thing that’s keeping me from overheating in her presence. Being around her is like standing next to the sun.
“That’s very humble of you, but I’m sure you make more than that. You’re milking me for eight thousand dollars a month. I can’t imagine what you’re doing to everyone else.”
“Eight grand is nothing compared to the hundreds of thousands that your father borrowed. Don’t forget that,” I warn.
She nods, letting out a thoughtful sigh. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. If you want, we can go back to the office now and I’ll pay you, or you can wait until you finish your drink.”
I’m not sure which one she prefers, but whichever one it is, I’d like to do the opposite. I’m not a fan of how cheerful she is. It feels fake, and I know she’s just doing it to irritate me. She wants to act like she has everything figured out, and that I don’t bother her at all, but I’ll be sure to show her who’s really in charge once I finish my drink.
I nod to her, taking another sip of my beer. “I think you can wait.”
She shrugs in that same scripted way as before, prancing off to serve the next customer as I follow her with my eyes. The way she moves is effortless, like she’s floating around in her white sneakers instead of walking.
Occasionally, she’ll look over her shoulder at me, tossing me a smile that I can only interpret as flirtatious. As to why she’s suddenly decided to behave this way, I don’t know, and I’m not sure that I like it. The challenge is gone, and in its place is a path that’s just a little too smooth.
So smooth, in fact, that I’m afraid I’ll slip and fall. Perhaps that’s her plan.
I finish my drink and wait for her to return to me, pouting her lips and looking at my empty glass as though she’s sorry for me that my drink is finished. “Another one?” she asks. “It’s on the house.”
“Unless it comes with a pair of your panties wrapped around the glass, I’ll pass,” I say, searching her face for the reaction I want. Disgust? I like it when she’s disgusted with me. There’s something satisfying about the way she wrinkles her button nose.
Instead, she raises her eyebrow at me. “That costs extra.”
“How much?” I ask, pretending to reach into my back pocket for my wallet.
She laughs. “Let’s say… $200,000.”
“How about we start with two thousand,” I say, leaning back from the bar.
“Fair enough, but you’re not getting any panties out of that.”
“We’ll see about that,” I reply.
She doesn’t answer, instead waving for me to follow her into the back, where she leads me into the office. It’s the only place that feels like it hasn’t been cleaned or refurnished. The rest of the bar is polished, but for some reason, she’s kept this room exactly how it was when she found it.
Is it because it’s not customer facing? Or is there something more intentional about the way she’s refused its upkeep?
I get a hint at the reason as she turns to me and folds her arms over her chest. “You knew my father,” she states, the pleasant smile wiped clean off her face and replaced with a serious scowl.
“I saw him every week,” I reply, leaning against the desk.
“And you guys talked?”
“Sometimes.”
“So, you could tell me more about him,” she says.
