“Bitches?” says Natasha. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
“You, bitch!” he says, towering over her. Shit, this is really escalating.
“Hey!” A voice booms behind me. I look over my shoulder to see Roman walking toward us. His eyes are trained on the guy and his jaw is set. Oh, boy.
He looks up at him and his drunken grin falters. “And who are you supposed to me?”
“A problem,” he says. He steps past me and fronts him off. “Especially for you if you don’t get the fuck out of here.”
Roman stands at least a foot taller than this guy. And he has to outweigh him by about a hundred pounds, at least. He steps right in front of him, looking down at him and silently daring him to act.
The customer in all his drunken courage stands up a little straighter and says, “This ain’t none of your business?—”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Dead wrong.” He’s not yelling. He doesn’t even sound tense. He’s speaking in a low, even tone. “This is a restricted area. Employees only, and I don’t remember hiring you. Turn around and walk away. Now.”
“Hey, listen?—”
“Choose your next words carefully,” Roman says. “Whatever you say next will decide if you’re walking out or being carried out. Either way, you are leaving this club.”
All the blood drains out of the customer’s face as Roman stares down at him. He takes a half step back and says, “All right, all right. I’m walking, okay?” He puts his hands up in defense. “No need to get hostile.”
He starts to walk away. Roman says, still watching him go, “You all right?”
“Yes,” we both say in unison.
He then walks away, following the man out of the back area. I turn to Natasha. “Are you really all right? That guy didn’t get rough with you or anything?”
She shakes her head. “It’s my fault. He was starting to talk all weird, you know? Asking my ‘real name’ and wanting to know where I lived. That kind of stuff.” The door opens again and Roman returns, stopping to listen as Natasha goes on. “It happens sometimes, you know? Guys start to think that it’s more than just a fucking dance and start getting creepy. I stopped the dance and told him he was out of line and I walked away. I didn’t think he’d actually follow me back here. I should have called security right off.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Roman says before I can. “He’s an adult. He should know better than to go around following women. You sure you’re okay?”
She nods and says, “I’m fine. Really.” Then with a disarming smile she adds, “I made enough money tonight, anyway. This is probably a sign not to get too greedy.”
Roman nods, then glances over at me. “That clown comes back?—”
“I’ll tell security to watch out for him.” I pause and almost stumble over my words. “Thank you, Roman.”
He just nods and walks away. I force myself not to watch him go.
“Wow,” Natasha says. “He swept in like Superman. Kind of hot.”
“He’s just doing his job,” I say.
“He did it better than Omar ever did.”
I can’t deny that. I had a harder time chasing out the riff-raff when he was around because he had a tendency to hide in his office unless I physically went to get him.
“What’s going on with you lately?” she asks me. I blink at her dumbly.
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know. This whole week you’ve been… weird, I guess. Both you and the boss have been weird, actually. You two have some kind of fight or something after hours?”
I have no idea how to answer that. I stammer for a second, then clear my throat. “We’re both just busy doing our jobs. That’s all.”
She narrows her eyes a little at me.
“Tash—”
