Page 7 of Starshine
The older woman looked between the leaking basket and Bridgette. Her lips shriveled like she’d swallowed something sour. “Your insolence is going to get you hit, girl.”
Bridgette’s smile was sharp as a blade’s edge. “But you can’t be leaving bruises on your highest priced commodity, now can you, Monika?”
“That’s Madam Monika to you, you little tart,” the woman said before she pulled the door open to allow them in. As Garrett passed, a dagger appeared in the older woman’s hand so fast he didn’t have a chance to react. She pressed it against his neck, and in spite of the fact that she was barely half his height, she forced him up against the wall with it. “You so much as look at one of my girls the wrong way, and I will gut you like a fish. Do you understand me, orc?”
Garrett stared at the woman with wide eyes as he held up his hands. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, though his rapidly swelling tongue slurred his speech. “I don’t want any trouble.”
Monika let him up but continued to glare even as Bridgette grabbed his hand again. He allowed himself to be led to the main room of the brothel. It was dim and smoky, the night already in full swing. Men laughed from the alcoves along the wall, tossing cards as beautiful, scantily clad women served them drinks or sat on their laps to cheer them on.
Bridgette led him to an empty table near the back and sat him down in one of the two chairs. “Stay here,” she ordered before disappearing through the curtain to the back. Garrett was a little dazed as he looked at his surroundings, as if he couldn’t quite figure out how he’d ended up there. There was no telling how long he waited, but when Bridgette returned, she was transformed.
The black dress she wore hung low on her shoulders, and her silver hair had been pulled up into an elaborate knot to show off her long neck. Rouge stained her lips red, and kohl lined her eyes, turning them to blue sapphires. Garrett couldn’t help but stare at her as she set down a cup full of chipped ice, a clean cloth, and a jug of water.
She pulled the empty chair over to him and sat, her knees brushing his. This close, he could smell her perfume - apple blossom and clove, both sweet and spicy. Cool hands cupped his face before gently tilting his chin up. Her thumb brushed under his lower lip, sending a chill of pleasure down his back.
“Let me see,” she ordered.
Garrett’s face heated even as he opened his mouth. She leaned close to get a good look at his tongue, and Garrett stared up at the ceiling to avoid staring at her. His pulse raced under her touch, hands clenched on his thighs.
“You should have stayed out of it,” she said as she examined him, tilting his head this way and that to get a good look in the dim room. “You may have just gelded one of my highest paying callers.”
Garrett frowned as she finally released him. “Animals go for the throat when they intend to kill. So forgive me for not realizing thatanimalwas one of your favorite clients.”
Bridgette glared at him. “I said he was high-paying, not a favorite. You should have let me handle it.” She took a few ice chips and wrapped them in the clean cloth before handing it over. “Here. You didn’t bite through, and the bleeding’s already slowing. This will help with the swelling.”
Garrett took the cloth. “Thank you,” he murmured before he put the ice against his tongue.
Bridgette stood with a sigh. “Just… stay here for now.” She hesitated before she added, “And if Edmund tries to come through the door, I’d consider it a personal favor if you’d stop him.”
Garrett raised an eyebrow and pulled the ice away. “Once was a favor - and an unwelcome one at that, apparently. But if you want me to be security, you’re going to have to pay me.”
A smirk spread across her face, eclipsing her brief surprise. She rose from her chair before putting her hands on the back of his, effectively trapping him. Her skirts bunched up as she settled on his lap, showing more than a bit of soft, pale thigh.
“What sort of payment?” she purred, her voice dipping into that sultry tone she’d used with Edmund in the alley. An act through and through, but a convincing one all the same.
Garrett’s face burned as she twirled the end of his braid around one of her long, slender fingers. He forced himself to meet her eyes rather than stare at the distracting swell of her cleavage. His voice emerged in a croak. “Supper. And a copper a night.”
Bridgette’s mask slipped a little, leaving a bemused grin behind. She considered him, and Garrett resisted the urge to squirm under those intense blue eyes.
“Supper I can do,” she declared at last. “For the copper, I’ll have to talk to the Madam. Give me until the end of the night.” She lifted off of him before straightening her skirts. “What can I call our new security prospect?”
Garrett shifted in his chair and tried not to let show how much he’d enjoyed her warmth on his lap. “Garrett. It’s Bridgette, right?”
The silver-haired woman offered a small smile as she held out her hand. “You can call me Bri.”
Garrett took it, enjoying the way her small hand fit in his. “It’s good to meet you, Bri.”
Garrett’s cup of ice slowly melted as he watched the goings-on of the brothel. There were a number of women in Madam Monika’s employ. They moved about the room in a beautiful display, thighs and breasts and arms just barely covered, a stark contrast to the rough-looking miners that seemed to frequent the place.
People talked and flirted all around him, but other than the occasional wary glimpse his way, they ignored him. Madam Monika kept glancing in his direction, like the tiny woman was sizing him up, but after the third time it happened, Garrett realized he wasn’t going to be kicked out. Not yet, at least. For the first time since leaving the high plains, he was allowed to just exist in a space without anyone questioning him.
Even though he tried not to, his eyes always seemed to drift to Bridgette. Her silver hair stood out in the dim and smoky room, her laughter as clear as bells as it sounded from the lap of a patron. Yet when she took the man’s hand to lead him upstairs, Garrett tilted his cup back, pulling another chunk of ice into his mouth to avoid watching them.
In their absence, he turned his attention to the rest of the room. Plenty of people came and went, though, fortunately, Edmund wasn’t one of them. Garrett wasn’t afraid of a rematch, but if the looks she cast his way were anything to go by, Madam Monika would be happy to kick him out if he caused a scene. So he stayed quiet, sucking on the ice Bridgette had given him until his bitten tongue was numb.
All the while, the patrons around him fell deeper into their drinks. There were a few miners Garrett even recognized, though he didn’t have names to put to the faces. Even if he’d had the coin, he wouldn’t have joined, but he watched a nearby game with a passing interested as more and more coin was tossed on the table.
When the cards for a particularly high-paying hand were shown, one man slammed his fists against the table. The force of it upended drinks and scattering coins while the two girls who had been entertaining the group jumped to their feet in alarm.
