I nod. “Any of the VIP rooms free?”
I’ve never invited Sean into my office. The last thing I need is someone like him snooping around in here. We may have a mutually beneficial business relationship, but he’s not to be trusted.
The only person I truly trust in this world is my sister, Ariana. I can’t even say that I wholly trust Trent. Sure, he raised me as his own, but he loves nothing more than a con, and I’ve never felt entirely confident that he wouldn’t throw me to the wolves if it benefited him in some way. Everyone has their price—except my sister. She never has.
“Yeah, one of them is open,” Ray says.
“Put him in there. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
Ray nods and closes the door behind him.
There’s nothing I can’t get up and walk away from right now, but I’m not going to let it appear that I’m at Sean’s beck and call. He’s in my place of business, not the other way around. So I take a few minutes to check Hattie’s social media profiles to see if she’s posted anything today—she hasn’t. In fact, her profiles are boring as shit. The last time she even posted was six months ago, and it was a picture of her and some other church members at a soup kitchen.
Finally, I stand from my desk and throw on my suit jacket before leaving my office, locking it, and heading toward the front of the house. It’s Saturday night, so the place is packed. Music pumps through the large room, and the men seated at the stage’s edge wave dollar bills, desperate for the attention of the girl dancing on stage.
I’m not surprised since it’s Paige, a.k.a. Amethyst. She’s one of the more popular dancers, hence the Saturday night shift.
She catches my eye as I walk through the room and gives me a quick smile, which I return. Paige is a good employee. Shows up for her shifts, doesn’t cause any drama, and always has requests for lap dances or visits to the VIP room.
Ray is posted at the entrance to the hallway that houses the VIP rooms, and he gives me a nod as I approach. “Five.”
“Thanks, Ray.” I smooth my tie down my chest and pass him.
The door to room number two opens as I walk by, and one of the dancers, Renee, a.k.a. Blaze, walks out, closing the door behind her. I’m sure her client is probably taking a moment to clean himself.
Her eyes widen when she sees me, and she reaches for my wrist. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
I frown in concern. Something is clearly wrong, and it makes me wonder what just went down in the VIP room. I really don’t want to deal with a shitty customer tonight.
“Sure.” I lead her over to the wall, putting myself between her and the room she just vacated. “What’s going on?”
“I’m scheduled for next Tuesday afternoon, but I have to take my kid to the doctor. It’s the only time I could get an appointment.” Her eyes glitter with unshed tears.
I know her four-year-old son has been having some ongoing health issues lately, and she’s been trying to get to the bottom of it.
I give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Tell Emma I’d like her to try to switch you out with one of the other dancers if possible. If not, we’ll have to be short-staffed. You need to take care of your little guy.”
Emma does the schedule for all the dancers, and we have a rule that there’s no changing shifts. Before we instituted the rule, everyone was always complaining about who got what shift, swapping shifts with each other. It was too chaotic, so we had to put a stop to it. We lost a couple of good dancers who needed more flexibility, but overall, it’s worked well for us.
A wide smile transforms the concerned look on her face. “You’re the best. Thanks, boss!” She gets up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek before rushing down the hall.
Relieved it’s not something worse, I proceed to door number five. When I open it, I find Sean bent over the table, doing a line of his own product.
I close the door with a slam, and Sean’s head whips up, white dust falling from his nose. He smiles when he sees me and holds out the rolled-up bill he’s using to snort the powder off the table toward me.
My hands fist at my sides. I’ve never loved letting this little shit run drugs through my clubs, not after how I grew up, but it’s a means to an end—money. Besides, there’s this little thing called free will. People have to make their own choices. If they end up fucking up their lives from using, that’s on them.
“I’m good.”
Sean shakes his head. “I’m gonna get you to give it a go one of these days.”
No, he won’t. But it’s not a point worth arguing.
“Why are you here?” I sit at the far end of the built-in couch that runs like a U around the small room.
Sean rubs his nose and sniffs. “My bosses have been running some numbers, and they think we’re handing too much over to you. They want to reduce your cut by ten percent.”
I unbutton my suit coat and casually cross my legs. “Tell your bosses no. Anything else?” I arch an eyebrow.
