Page 20 of Sworn to Consume
And I get the personal—almost—safety it brings.
I slip in through the back staff door behind the main round bar. The bright lights of the kitchen and dressing rooms area make me blink a few times after the dim haze of the bar.
I walk past the kitchen’s metal counters, keeping my head down, ignoring the three old Russian women prepping light dishes and desserts. The music fades behind me as I reach the corridor leading to the back dressing rooms. I head for the last door, the one decked out withTatianaspelled in pink glitter letters—I smirk.
Three years of working here every single night—nobreaks,novacations—and she still manages to look like she’s got life left in her, and apparently, it’s full of glitter and vibrant diva colors.
These days, she only takes VIPs. Higher pay and bigger demands, but also… creepier requests. Very disturbing ones. But I don’t judge. I never do.
I know exactly where they came from, and it’s an upgrade for them—I just keep my head down and keep Diana safe.
“Tatiana,” I call, opening the door and holding up my clipboard with tonight’s reservations. “You’re up next. No VIPs tonight—the stage is yours.”
She stretches her black string panties higher up on her hips until they’re barely visible, then turns to me with a raised eyebrow.
“No VIP? It’s the last day of the month. Daniel always reserves this day for at least three hours in the private suite.”
She tugs up her nipple covers—what we jokingly call the bras here—leaving almost nothing to the imagination.
I sigh, carefully starting with, “Let it slide.” However, it comes across more as a plea than a warning.
“He took Natasha today—”
“He did what?”Her furious screech cuts me off.
“That cheapshit! One time, I told him his special request would cost him extra, and now he’s punishing me?”
Her high-heeled boots click furiously against the floor as she storms to her dresser, shoving out her long black glossy jacket—the one she wears on stage before she sheds it for the hungry bastards outside.
“I’ll take the stage tonight,” she mutters, frowning hard. She knows it’s a lost fight, but she’s not going to stay quiet once Natasha comes back.
“But make no mistake—” she points a finger straight at me, the anger notreallydirected at me, but I’m used to being the punching bag when needed. “I know Natasha’s been trying to steal Daniel from me for months. You’re giving me RexandNovax next week.”
Oh no.
The two VIPs who are loyal to Natasha.
This is going to start a full-on war between them.
“You know I can’t promise that,” I try to reason. “It’s the client’s choice.”
She straightens, planting a smug smile across her face. “Leave their choice to me. You just approve it when they request it and keep Natasha away.”
I take a deep breath, running through every worst-case scenario in my mind. But I need Tatiana on stage tonight. I can’t afford to fight both of them at once.
I raise my hands in surrender.
“Fine. If they call for you, I’ll approve it.”
Her grin widens as she ties her white blonde hair up in a tight bun, securing her short purple wig on top. She tugs her butterfly-shaped black silk mask into place beneath it, pinning the straps under the wig so it won’t fall off when she’s spinning.
“Knew I could count on you.” She waves casually and struts out of the room like a diva, her heels clicking away down the hall.
I glance down at tonight’s reservation sheet, tracing the client nicknames with my finger.
Daniel—marked.
The 10 p.m. show—marked. ‘Tat’scribbled next to it for her bonus later tonight.
