I knew she heard me, but she didn’t look up.
On my way to the employee locker room, I bumped into Flynn. He was always easy to spot in those orange-tinted glasses.
“Did you forget your leather pants today?” I quipped.
“The cleaning crew isn’t permitted to dress provocatively. I’m afraid black trousers are all we’re allowed.”
We avoided two men engaged in sensory magic and headed down a short hall.
“Your shirt is five sizes too small,” I remarked. “Is that for tips?”
He opened the door for me. “Already told you, love, we don’t earn tips.”
“I won’t tell.”
Flynn plopped down on the black loveseat. “The boss doesn’t tolerate deceit. Careful who you talk to around here. There are a lot of snitches.”
I leaned toward the mirror and applied my eyeliner. “So why not get a job working tables?”
He crossed one leg over his knee. “I’ve applied, but those positions don’t open very often, and the one that just did was filled by a Chitah.”
“What about bartending?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, they’re all women.” He gave me a forced smile.
I crossed the room and opened my locker. “Why is that?”
“Bartenders are women, servers are men. That’s the way the owner likes it.”
After putting up my bag and coat, I sprayed a mist of perfume on myself. “How do you survive on wages alone?”
His eyes traveled down to my long legs. “Everyone has a side hustle. You’re trouble, aren’t you?”
I tied the mask behind my head and slammed the locker. “What makes you say that?”
“I can always spot trouble with a capitalT. Nobody gets in a fight on their first night here. People would kill for your position. And you should know that Simone’s not pleased with you.”
“Why?”
Flynn got up and approached me like a new sheriff who had just rode into town. “When she heard what you did last week, ordering customers around like a dominatrix, she tried it when you weren’t here.”
“And?”
He made a nosedive movement with his hand. “Crash and burn. With her, the regulars know it’s all an act. But you’re new, so they don’t know what to expect from you.” Flynn’s eyebrows touched his hairline as he admired my body again. “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes right now. That section is Simone’s turf.”
“It was a fluke.”
“Rubbish. Do you know how many times I’ve heard someone asking for Mistress White? They won’t stop, as I’m sure you know.”
Wordhadgotten around, and customers would linger by the bar in hopes that I’d dish out what I’d served that night. I pushed away from the lockers. “I’m not here to cause problems, but she has nothing to complain about. She takes half my tips for spiking the drinks. Maybe they should spike the bottles and make it a level tipping field.”
“Can’t. It’s a liability for the boss. The higher authority would send Regulators in here faster than a jackrabbit, and nothing spooks people more than those redcoats.” He strode toward the door and gripped the knob. “Stay on her good side. It’s not easy to switch sections around here, so you’re stuck with each other. And nobody wants to be on Simone’s bad side. I’ve been there and back and bought a T-shirt.” He opened the door. “After you, milady.”
People gyrated to the sexual beat of the music. The air-conditioning ran all day, so by the time the club was ready to open, the air was cool and clean. Somewhere past midnight, all that changed, and the heady smell of sweat, stale cologne, spilled booze, arousal, and Chitah markings permeated every corner of the building.
As I approached the bar, I made contact with everyone I passed, putting their faces to memory and nodding at the regulars.
“Busy night?” I asked Simone as I stepped behind the bar.
