Page 8 of Highest Bidder

The sunlight slanting through the blinds told me it was already afternoon. I kissed her temple and sat up.

“You’re welcome to hang out here, but I have to head into work for a bit.”

If I hurried, I could get to the club and talk to my boss about some extra shifts before things got busy.

~~~~

I hadn’t had to worry about Club Allure being too busy for Rico to talk to me. It was technically open, but I’d barely even call it that.

A few regulars were parked at the bar with their attention divided between some college football game on the flatscreens above the shelves of cheap liquor and the bored-looking girl onstage who was half-heartedly twirling on the pole in pasties and heels.

I walked past her and made my way to where Rico was perched on his usual stool in the corner of the bar. He had the weekly schedule in one hand, his gaze bouncing between it and the game on the screen.

“Got a sec?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

He looked up, surprised to see me on a Saturday. “Hey Crystal. You’re not on ‘til Monday night.”

Even though Rico had my personnel file with my real name, I wasn’t sure he even knew it. Which was probably just as well, that way he wouldn’t accidentally use it in front of customers.

“I know. I wanted to talk about maybe picking up more shifts.”

He gave me a slow once-over. “You trying to make rent or running from something?”

“Does it matter?”

He grunted. “Nope, not at all. You looking to do some doubles? I’ve heard the girls say that’s hard on their feet.”

“I was thinking maybe some weekend night shifts.”

He raised his eyebrows at me.

“You know I only give Friday and Saturday nights to girls who’ll work the Champagne Room.”

Ah, the Champagne Room. A.k.a. the “VIP Lounge,” a.k.a., “the blowjob room”.

I’d made enough the last six years to survive—albeit sometimes barely—and avoid working on my knees. It was badenough grinding on some of these guys over their pants; I couldn’t imagine putting their cocks in my mouth. But I knew the money would be a lot better than my Wednesday afternoon shift.

I thought about my sister’s tear-stained face, Roscoe, and my mother’s fingers.

I shrugged. “Whatever you’ve got.”

He gave me a wary look. He’d been the one to hire me when I was underage and using a fake ID, so he’d known me six years. Not once had I ever shown any interest in working in the Champagne Room. “You sure about this?”

Hell no, I’m not sure.

But thanks to Daddy Dearest, I didn’t have much of a choice.

I blew out a long breath before I said with far more confidence than I was feeling, “Yep.”

He watched me for another beat, like he thought if he waited long enough, I’d change my mind on the spot.

I had resolved myself to my new fate of sucking dick for money and didn’t flinch, so he explained, “For your safety, you’ll need to tell the bouncers when you’re working back there. And the club gets thirty percent of the take, including your tips.”

Of course it does.

“You only take twenty percent from me now.”

His sleazy grin revealed his gold incisor.

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