As the call ended, I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling like it might offer answers. Tonight would be another performance. Just like the club. Just like everything.
But at least with her, I didn’t have to pretend I wasn’t tired. She understood that everything in this life was a performance.
CHAPTER 6
SIN
Ipulled into the parking lot sideways and five minutes late, blastingNo One Knowsby Queens of the Stone Age like it could erase the fact that I’d thrown on my uniform in a blind panic. My phone had lit up an hour earlier with a frantic call—someone had a “family emergency,” and now I was stuck with the dreaded three to eleven p.m. shift. So much for a day off spent in bed, doing absolutely nothing and thoroughly enjoying it.
Brookhaven Ridge: come for the oppressive atmosphere, stay because capitalism is a gilded cage.
I slammed my car door shut and jogged toward the staff entrance, only to find Thalia perched on the back steps, one ankle hooked over the other, dragging on a cigarette like she belonged in a smoky European noir.
“They change your shift, too?” I asked, breathless as I reached her.
She exhaled a slow plume of smoke and gave me a crooked grin. “Yup. You look like hell, by the way.”
“Flattery gets you nowhere,” I muttered.
She smirked. “Claire said we’ve got a VVIP tonight.” She used air quotes around the acronym like it personally offended her.
I raised a brow. “Capital letters and everything?”
“Apparently, Timothy had a full-on meltdown. Theo’s been breathing down his neck, barking about excellence and precision. Now Timothy’s trying to scare the waitstaff into a collective anxiety attack.”
“Charming.” I glanced up at the club’s gleaming back façade. “Do we know who the guest is?”
“Not exactly. But they’ve triple-staffed the kitchen, the linens are new, and the private dining room with the lake view’s been set up like it’s hosting the damn UN.” She flicked her cigarette to the side. “Word on the floor? It’s a high-stakes business client.”
I gave a low whistle. “That explains the tight-ass energy bleeding through the walls.”
“Doesn’t it always?” Thalia grinned and stood, smoothing her skirt. “Come on, brat prince. Let’s go see what fresh hell awaits.”
“One of these days you’re going to tell me your story,” I said as we walked toward the locker room.
“You’re on. How’s tonight sound, after we clock out?”
I glanced at her, eyebrows raised. “The Hollow?”
“That easy?” she teased. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight. You seem like someone who has alotof secrets.”
“I could say the same about you,” I shot back.
She smirked and stepped closer, pinching my cheeks between her fingers. “You’re not as dumb as you pretend to be.”
Affronted, I stepped away, arms crossing instinctively over my chest. Her eyes drifted to my exposed arms—my tattoos visible beneath the short-sleeved polo.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You act like an untouchable fuckboy,” she said, matter-of-fact. “I’m not saying you’re not, but there’s more to you than the attitude.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up a finger, silencing me. “I haven’t told you the best part yet.”
“Hit me.”
“If I tell you my story, you tell me yours.”
“Well, shit. You’re beautifulanddevious.”
She mock-curtsied. “Thank you. Now let’s get through this shift from hell.”
