She backs away like he’s holding a bomb. “I can’t…Mr. Whitehall?”
But Mr. Whitehall is staring blankly at Evelyn, the knowledge of what is about to happen dawning on him for the first time. The baby gives an ear-splitting wail and the doctor’s hands twitch as though he’s about to throw her. “Someonetake this fucking baby!”
I step forward. “Here. Give her to me.”
I wait for protests, but the doctor practically shoves the girl at me. January Whitehall is as slippery as a raw egg, but I hold her fast. She draws a shuddering breath, braced for another scream, and I press a finger to her lips. Our eyes lock and the strangest feeling passes over me. That I know this girl. That I have turned down some sunny street and run into her after many years. We stare at each other, and I see she recognizes me too.
“Dio abbia pietà delle nostre anime,” I whisper.God have mercy on our souls.
The room becomes a blur. The doctor shouts, nurses speed around, Mr. Whitehall sobs, begs for someone to save his wife. There is nowhere I am needed. I stay looking at the newborn. Her rosebud mouth works the air, seeking a nipple that will not come. I know her. She is sweet and strange, but above all, my heart tells me she will have a difficult, dangerous life. That the world will treat her cruelly. It would be wrong to speak of such superstitions, but I sense them like the scent of blood in the air. I will have to teach her. To protect her. To show her what every woman must learn. I am almost sixty, but God has made me a mother again.
The commotion around the bed stops. Evelyn Blay-Whitehall is dead. I hold her child as Mr. Whitehall wails. Soon I will call my Emilio and tell him I’m not coming home. I will send for formula and blankets and a cot, but for now, I look into the pale, perfect face of January Whitehall and pray I can be all she needs of me.
Chapter One
January Whitehall
Aman insuspenders staggers up to the gold bar, a lopsided smile on his face. “Voshka tongick, pleaash gurlsh?”
After months at Dreams, I can speak drunk pretty well now. I smile at Kiara to let her know that I’ve got the order and mix the guy a vodka tonic, adding a squeeze of fresh lime and a salted twist. He stares deeply into my cleavage as I present his drink to him and tips me twenty dollars. I tuck it into my skirt pocket. “Thanks so much!”
He gives me a slow, longing look then grins at Kiara. “Would you gurlsh be into me if you dinnet work here? Like you’d go on a date wiv me?”
Before I worked at Dreams, I wouldn’t have believed men would say cringy stuff like this so openly. That they really think they could go home with the dancers and bartenders. After almost a year behind the bar at a gentleman’s lounge, I no longer have those delusions.
“Sure,” Kiara says perkily. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Of coursh.”
Kiara giggles. In the real world she only dates girls but she never tells customers that. Staff aren’t allowed to date customers, so it shouldn’t matter, but all the guys want to believe they could go home with her. And they tip better when they do.
“Can I get you anything elsefrom the bar?” she asks.
“Oh. Nahh.” The man gives us another wide smile and staggers away with his vodka tonic.
“Another satisfied, yet sexually unsatisfied customer,” Kiara mutters.
I laugh. All the girls who work at Dreams are amazing, but Kiara is my favorite person to share a bar shift with. Even the way she mixes drinks is funny, spilling liquor and lemon slices everywhere. She just doesn’t care. Case in point, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. She shouldn’t have it on shift, but Betty isn’t around, and the night is pretty slow. As she scrolls social media, I occupy myself by rearranging the vodka bottles.
As I turn to lift the Belvedere back onto the shelf, a drunk guy whistles at me from across the room. “Hate to watch you…clean stuff but I love to…look at your ass, baby girl.”
I flash him a professional smile as his friends crack up.
Kiara rolls her eyes. “Idiots.”
I grin. “It’s money in the bank.”
“Agreed. What are you up to after this? Wanna come to Silk Mama with me and Ivy?”
I smile. I love being asked to hang out almost as much as I love knowing I could go if I wanted to.
“That sounds fun but Doc’s picking me up,” I say. “We’re doing something for my birthday.”
That gets Kiara to look up from her phone. “Birthday?”
“Yup. I’m nineteen today.”
“Shhh,” she hisses, shoving away her phone.
