“We’ll get all of that tomorrow,” she assures me. “Your shift starts at nine, but come in at eight thirty, and we’ll get you squared away.”
“Will I be working until six in the morning?” I ask.
“Yes. Unless?—”
“No, I can do that. I’m just clarifying. I appreciate the job.”
She presses a wad of bills into my hand, and I do my best to keep my face neutral.
Thank God.Ibuprofen, here I come.
“These are your tips for tonight. You’ll get paid out for tips at the end of every shift.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“You’ll want to keep dressing sexy,” she continues. “You’ll get better tips. But not over-the-top sexy.”
“Classy,” I reply with a knowing nod. I’ve seen what everyone has been wearing tonight. “Got it.”
“See? You’re going to be great.” Rita pats my shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Thanks, Rita.”
Leaving the bar, I toss a smile to Rome, who’s still sitting at the bar but hasn’t touched the drink I made him, and wave to Max. I walk down the long hallway and into the fancy locker room. I change out of the borrowed top and bralette into my own clothes, and with my purse slung across my body, I walk out the front door and onto the sidewalk.
Scarlett wasn’t at the reception desk. In fact,no onewas at the reception desk, but the two burly guards were by the door, so I assume they’ll let someone know if a member walks in.
Not my job, I remind myself. But at least Idohave a job.
Tonight was everything I knew I’d love when working as a bartender. It was fast-paced, interesting, and that’s just the behind-the-bar work. The people-watching was truly fascinating. Rapture certainly caters to a higher class of people than I’m used to, yet I felt I held my ground well.
Practice from being on my father’s arm came in handy.
I knew how to schmooze. And the tips? I shake my head, still amazed. I didn’t dream I’d walk out of Rapture tonight with hundreds of dollars in my purse.
Even though my motel is at least a mile from here, in a city that never sleeps, plenty of people are around, and it’s all well-lit. So I start walking. I duck into a pharmacy and buy painkillers, a bottle of water, and some snacks because I’m starving, then set off for the motel.
The hair on the back of my neck prickles. Is someone watching me? Following me?
Shit, is it my father’s men?
I stop and glance around, feeling paranoid as my heart rate kicks up. But I don’t see anyone paying any attention to me.
Even so, I walk faster, and when I get to my motel and unlock the door, I breathe a sigh of relief. I lock up behind me and go the extra mile by laying a towel in front of the door and covering the peephole with a tissue.
People yell on one side of me. On the other side are lewd sounds of sex. Someone is screaming out to God,and I roll my eyes.Such an act. As if sex can make someone scream ridiculous things.
I empty the bag of purchases. Immediately opening the ibuprofen, I wash three down with some water, then open a bag of barbecue potato chips and shove some in my mouth.I’m so hungry.When was the last time I ate an actual meal and not just snacks?
Before I ran from my father. No wonder I’m hungry.
I bought a super-cheap pair of flip-flops because I don’t like walking on this floor barefoot, so I slip out of my shoes and into them, wiggling my toes.
I’m tired. At least I don’t have to go back to pounding the pavement to find a job tomorrow. I do have to go shopping for clothes, though, so I’ll go back to the department store and try to find things that look nice and not too cheap.
I don’t know if that’s possible, but I’ll do my best.
Maybe I won’t have to renew my stay at this motel. Perhaps I’ll be able to afford something nicer. I made a few hundred bucks tonight and didn’t even work a full shift.
