I slide Danny’s business card across the bar. Her eyebrows draw together as she picks it up and reads his note.
“I’m sorry, but Danny’s not here.”
My stomach drops. It’s nearly nine, our agreed meeting time. “Really? When do you expect him in? I can wait.”
She strains the shaken drinks into waiting glasses and slides them onto a tray. A server appears beside me, collecting the tray with a murmured thanks, and disappears back into the crowd.
“He’ll be gone for a while, I’m afraid. A family emergency back home.” She gives a small, apologetic shrug. “If you leave me your contact info, I’ll have him call you when he’s back.”
My fingernails bite into my palm beneath the bar's edge. I can't wait weeks for another shot at an audition. It took me long enough to engineer this one. If I leave it up to fate, it may not happen.
“I’m happy to audition for his replacement.” I give her a pleading look. “Danny said one of the dancers quit and there’s an opening. I don’t want to lose this opportunity.”
A petite blonde server leans across the bar, passing Oksana the next drink order.
Oksana glances at the server, then back at me, something like pity crossing her face. “Listen, I’m going to be honest with you. Danny sure likes pretty girls to audition for him, but auditions aren’t how this club works. You need a reference, or to know someone who can vouch for you. Most people get hired through connections.”
I swallow hard. “I get it, but … I came here from Moscow a few weeks ago for school, and I’m broke as shit. I’ve been living off ramen and peanut butter. I spent everything I had left on this outfit because Danny promised if I looked the part, he’d give mea chance.” I pause for dramatic effect. “I know I’m asking a lot. But if there’s anyone you could talk to, anyone who might give me a shot…”
I let the sentence trail off, watching her face for any sign of softening.
She sighs and wipes her hands on a bar towel. “So, Evelina. What city are you from? You sound like a Moscow girl.”
“You got me.” I smile and shrug. “What about you?”
“Not far from there. I’m Oksana, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you.” We shake hands across the bar. She’s not unkind, and I can work with that.
“So you said you’re here for school. What are you studying?”
“Cybersecurity stuff at MTI. Super boring.”
Her brows shoot up in surprise. “I mean, it’s not my thing, but hell, that’s impressive.”
Itisimpressive. Manhattan Tech Institute has one of the best computer science programs in the world. It’s a big deal for most people to get accepted, but this is the kind of work I’ve been doing since I was a kid.
“How long have you worked here?” I ask.
“Two years. It’s the only way I can afford to live in this insanely expensive city, though I also dance in the New York City Ballet’s corps.”
Now it’s my turn to be impressed. That explains her perfect posture and lithe frame.
“So can you help a girl from your hometown out?”
She studies me, resting her forearms on the bar. “You know what kind of establishment this is, right?”
Oh I know. I know everything there is to know about Velour’s dark past. But I’m here playing a part, and that part is of an innocent student new to the city.
I lean forward conspiratorially. “Like, a strip club?”
“Yeah, the exotic dancing is on the second floor. Down here is just the gentlemen’s club. But…” Her voice drops an octave. “The whole joint is bratva-owned. This is their club and territory. And trust me, they don’t fuck around.”
Oh, the irony. I shrug, playing ignorant. “A job is a job, and I’m good at minding my own business.”
Oksana sighs and reaches under the bar for a glass. She fills it with soda and slides it to me.
“I can’t promise anything, but if you stick around, I’ll see if I can track down whoever’s handling these things while Danny’s gone. Might take a bit, though.”
