CHAPTER 4
Erica
AS SOON AS THE QUESTION was out of her mouth, his striking green eyes found hers. The intensity in them rooted her stiff. But when his gaze flashed in confusion, she’d wondered if he’d heard her.
“So,” she began, but was cut off by footsteps bounding up the metal stairs to the VIP. When she caught sight of her boss’s spiky coal black hair, she took an unsteady step away from the VIP and made herself busy straightening the bottles at his drink station. Her boss would kill her if he saw her fraternizing. A gesture, she could surely use right now.
“Mr. Craul,” Stick greeted the VIP.
“Please, call me Julius.” He turned to her employer with a smile.
“Julius.” Stick moved between them and motioned toward the pit. “Come, let me show you the wares of the club. We have several music areas, six bars, two performance stages…”
Show him the club? That meant she’d have to wait to hear his answer. Intently, she watched Julius’s body language, determined to soak up even a single clue as to which way he swayed. When he tugged at the crisp hem of his pristine white shirt like he was trying to force the cuff over his hand to hide her drawing, his verdict was clear.
He hated it.
Frick.
She was going to jail. She needed to get out of there.
“Erica, reset your station,” Stick ordered as they headed for the stairs. Julius never once glanced back.
For that one moment, relief washed over her. Her persnickety boss was a godsend. His relentless need for perfection would provide her with the perfect opportunity to escape. While he was giving Julius the grand tour of Savu, she would sneak out of the club unnoticed. After that, she’d quit the place cold turkey, walk away and never come back. Lay low for a while. If needed, she could assume a new name and leave the country. That wouldn’t be so hard, right?
Stick’s spiky hair bobbled through the crowd with Julius in tow. Now, was her chance.
She beelined straight to the coat check and didn’t pass go.
“Eri! You’re headed out early tonight?” Barbie asked when she forked over her pink ticket in a rush.
“Yeah, not feeling well,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder. Julius and her boss were lost in the sea of partiers. Hopefully, it would remain that way.
“Too much booze.” The coat attendant nodded in understanding as she looked her over. “It happens to us all eventually.”
Did she look drunk? She palmed her hair for a moment, wondering if she looked disheveled, but quickly decided it didn’t matter now.
“So, what did you in? My first time was Jose Cuervo. I haven’t touched the stuff since. Need me to call you a cab?” Barbie leaned against the counter and readied herself to chat. Why did Stick require them to check their coats at the door instead of throwing them in the back like she did at every other bar she worked? Most nights, it was a perk. Tonight, when she was in a rush, Barbie’s chattiness was a hindrance.
“No, I just need my coat,” she replied abruptly, hoping to hurry the skinny woman along. She didn’t have time to talk.
Barbie looked startled, but quickly disappeared into the back room. She drummed her fingers against the coat check counter and checked her over her shoulder. The song changed and Barbie was taking too long.
What was going on back there? She leaned over the counter to see if she could get a glimpse of what Barbie was up to. Usually, she would zip in and out with a coat in hand faster than any other coat check person that was ever employed at Stick’s club. Tonight, she seemed to drag.
Erica checked over her shoulder again. Sooner or later, Stick would notice she was gone.
Finally, Barbie returned. Her dainty ring-clad fingers were pressed against the comms in her ear.
“Yeah, I see her. She’s, uh… right here. Hold on a sec,” Barbie tossed her a confused look as she laid her coat between them.
Erica snatched it away and turned on her heel, but Barbie had already removed her earpiece and stuffed it into her hand.
She almost let it drop on the counter in front of her, but one look at Barbie and she knew Stick would go on a firing spree if she didn’t. It was one thing to quit outright. Another thing to get someone else fired who didn’t deserve it. She picked up the comm and held it to her ear, dreading the voice on the other end. “You were looking for me?”
“Where’s your phone?” Stick asked, his tone reaching several levels of over it.
“I, um, must have left it in the VIP area.”
“Then why aren’t you back at your set to retrieve it?”
“I-I had to use the bathroom.”
“At the coat check?” The impatience in his voice exploded. Erica whirled around, looking for her boss’s angry face. Thankfully, he was nowhere in sight.
“I…I thought I left something in my jacket.”
“What? Your brains?” Stick roared over the comms before clearing his throat. Apparently, Julius was nearby, or her hotheaded boss would have laid into her. His next words barely passed for the professional club owner he was going for. “Hurry up and get back to your station. Our patrons are never to be kept waiting.”
“I’ll be there in a second,” she said, even while shrugging her coat on.
The line silenced. She returned the comm to Barbie, who’s wide dark brown eyes stared at her with incredulous shock. The waifish girl tsked and shook her head. “You’re skipping out? Stick’s not going to be happy.”
Yeah, well, she had bigger fish to fry right now. She shrugged and made her way toward the exit. Several bouncers were still at the entrance, checking people in and out of the club. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she settled in the shortest line, praying like heck she’d make it out before she was caught.
Please let Harmon check me out. She prayed to every god she could think of. With any luck, oblivious Harmon would let her pass without question. He never paid attention to conversations over the comms. Every bouncer except him would have noticed she’d promised Stick she was going back to the VIP area and not to the exit.
“Hey. You with the blonde hair. Hold up a second.” A stranger weaved through the crowd toward her. Immediately, she tensed up. He could be talking to anyone, but the way it seemed his voice traveled over the crowd, it was meant for her.
What now?
Please let it be some drunk trying to get her phone number. At least then she could ignore him. That was generally how those interactions went. She’d pretend he didn’t exist, and he would grumble some obscenity under his breath and move on.
“Hey, blondie!”
Ignoring how grating that term was, she continued her pretense and willed the line to move faster. It was only a matter of time before Stick realized she wasn’t going back to her station. Time was running out.
For once, she hoped that karma would just stop with her bull crap already. No such luck. The guy in front of her paused to make small talk to Harmon who blocked the exit.
What did I ever do to deserve this? She tilted her head to the sky and frowned.
Tapping her foot impatiently, she tried to ignore the voice still calling after her. After a moment, Harmon turned his attention onto her. By divine luck, he motioned for her to step on the yellow florescent feet painted on the floor in front of him. As she predicted, he didn’t ask a single question.
“Hey!” The stranger caught up to her and tapped her shoulder. Of course, Harmon the Oblivious didn’t sense her plight. The bouncers nearby did. Jay stood a little straighter and broadened his shoulders in a stark warning that he wouldn’t hesitate to use every bulging muscle in his body to toss the stranger from the club if he messed with her.
“Is he bothering you, Eri?”
She should have said something. Or better still, she should have bolted to her car as fast as her legs could carry her. Neither happened. The bouncer stepped forward, partially shielding her from the stranger. The guy behind her threw up his hands in surrender.
“Hey, I don’t want any trouble, alright,” he said. The drawl of his deep city accent was apparent. “Some guy wanted me to give her this.”
The man, whose dark hair was shellacked to his skull, thrust a gleaming white business card toward her. Erica took it and flipped it over in her hand. It was completely blank except for a phone number printed across one side. Her eyes searched the greaser in front of her for answers.
“What’s this?”
“Dunno. Some guy paid me fifty bucks to give you this and say you have a deal.”
Author’s Note: Let the games begin!!!
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