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“No, she’s not.”
He’d gained all the attention in the small office. Sloane and Aaron seemed surprised, while the woman seemed almost relieved. April’s face softened, obviously misinterpreting what he was saying. Sloane rounded the desk and stopped a few feet away. He glanced over to see her brows tight, and her lips pulled down in a severe frown.
“April still has three weeks left on her six-month probation.”
“No, she doesn’t.” Trey paused and looked over at the woman. “April’s fired.”
April paled and jerked her eyes across to Sloane and Aaron. If she thought they had any type of influence on his decision, she was mistaken.
“But…”
Trey slowly turned his glare on April and squared his jaw. “I hope you have other talents.” Trey motioned to Sloane. “Email me her information.”
Sloane shared a look with Aaron, then immediately nodded. “I’ll do it now.”
April bowed her head, and he walked out of the office without another word. There was nothing else to say.
It was done.
Chapter Ten
Ah, the smell of sweat, blood, and body odor.
It wasn’t exactly her vision of a good time when her friend asked her to go out. Dahlia would have preferred something a bit more lowkey. Dinner and drinks would have been perfect. Instead, she found herself on the other side of town in the shady industrial section close to midnight. Not exactly her ideal Saturday night. But here I am.
Dahlia and Penny bypassed the bouncer manning the door without so much as a word. Of course not. Much like nightclubs, places like this were a sausage fest. Any and all women were welcome, though very few had the stomach to watch grown men pulverize each other for money.
“So, tell me again about the window?” Penny said as they made their way to the wall on the left. The makeshift bar was barely standing but served its purpose.
The window. A week later, Dahlia was still in shock. Months of waiting, then put off another few weeks, yet with one call demanding it be fixed the next day, as per Trey’s instructions, and the guy showed up the next morning at seven a.m.
“Yeah, I just called, told him he had to fix it the next day, and he did. That’s weird, right?”
It was very strange. This wasn’t the first maintenance request she’d called in to the landlord. She’d made plenty through the years. She’d never gotten priority service until last week.
Penny held up two fingers to the guy behind the bar. Words were unnecessary. The only beverage available was one type of beer, which came lukewarm in a disposable plastic cup. Welcome to Saturday night fights!
“Did you threaten him?”
Dahlia furrowed her brows. “No.”
Dahlia hadn’t made any threats or raised her voice. She was following through with what she’d told Trey but hadn’t thought it would make a difference. She’d been wrong.
Penny tossed down a ten-dollar bill, grabbed the cups, and handed her one. “I enjoy threatening people.”
Dahlia laughed, spilling some beer over the rim, and then smiled. “I know you do. And let’s not forget blackmail.”
Penny shrugged and led her across the room, weaving through the throngs of men. Some were gentlemanly enough to step aside and make room. Others were not, and Dahlia rolled her eyes as she skimmed past a group who were obviously hoping for some type of cheap thrill of looking down her shirt. Dahlia was relieved when they came to a clearing away from the large groups.
“I can’t believe you made me come here.” Dahlia scanned the room. It was a packed house.
“Oh, shut up, Dahl. You love the fights, or at least you used to.”
I did. For some people, it was a turn-off watching two men pummel each other—the blood, the sweat, and sometimes tears. It was barbaric. Yet, there was something virile about it. Her tastes had changed over the years, but not her affection for the bad boys.
“Besides, with all your shifts at the Bowery, I never see you. The least you could do is hang out and watch testosterone-fused Neanderthals beat the shit out of each other for cash.”
It was true. In the past few weeks since she’d started, she’d worked every shift offered. Dahlia wouldn’t complain. The money was fantastic, and the job was well worth the exhaustion. There were a lot of perks to working there. Besides the income, she’d met a few other people, half of whom were nice. She’d gotten friendly with Killian and his sister, she spent her breaks with Sloane in her office, and there was no better view than the one she had from bar one, diagonal from the balcony.
