Page 6

Hailey

I look at myself in the mirror, adjusting the short, form-fitting black mini halter dress borrowed from Savannah.

I blow-dry my hair to give it some volume, a change from the usual ponytail I've worn for the past few years.

I don't even have makeup on yet, but I allow myself a moment of vanity—dressing up is a rare occasion for me.

Three quick knocks sound on the door of the guest bedroom I'm staying in. Fortunately, this room seems less used and is tidier than the rest of her apartment.

“Come in!” I call out.

Savannah opens the door, holding Teddy against her chest. She's wearing a dress similar to mine but in dusty rose pink that shows off her cleavage. I was too worried I'd fall out of a dress like that, so I opted for a halter.

“That fits you so well! Are you ready?” she asks.

“Almost. I just need to put on makeup.”

“Come on.” She waves me over to the bathroom where I'd patched up Max’s hand.

Thinking about him gives me butterflies, but I've been trying not to get carried away with this little crush I've developed today.

I'm sure he doesn't feel the same way about me.

He's rich and probably surrounded by attractive women all the time.

Besides, I should focus on saving money and starting a new life for myself.

Savannah brushes her bleach-blonde hair back and plops a cosmetic bag onto the counter.

Still holding Teddy, who is panting adorably, she sorts through her makeup, then looks at me.

“Hmm, your complexion is a bit lighter than mine.

I'm worried my foundation and concealer won't suit you.

But your skin is so clear and healthy—I don't think you need any.”

“Thanks.” I look away from her eyes in the mirror, not used to receiving compliments.

“I think you just need some eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick, then we can head over.” She checks her phone for the time. “Shit, we should hurry.”

She applies some silver eyeshadow to me while chatting away. The conversation flits from topic to topic, and I barely get a word in, but I don't mind. I mostly just feel lucky to have this opportunity fall into my lap and a bed to sleep in tonight.

I put on some bright red lipstick, then toss it into my borrowed purse. It feels strange having nothing of my own, but Savannah doesn't seem to mind sharing. I don't know her story yet, but something tells me she's lonely—which seems odd given how friendly and personable she is.

We hurry out the door and get into the car. Panic rises when I look at the clock and realize our shift started five minutes ago. I was never late for a shift at the recruiting office. Ever. And this is my first day here.

Savannah glances at me from the driver's seat, noticing my internal freak-out. “Relax. I’m late all the time. Besides, they're not going to blame you. I'm your ride to work.”

When we get to the casino, I feel like all eyes are on me. I felt this way earlier today too, but I'm sure that was because I was soaking wet and standing around looking lost. I tug down my skirt, thinking people are staring for a different reason this time.

Savannah gives me a warm smile as she guides me through the hotel lobby, past the main elevators, into a more secluded area.

I shift my weight from one foot to the other as we stand in front of the gold elevator doors; my feet already hurt.

I don't know how Savannah glides around in heels with such grace, and I wonder if I'll ever learn this skill.

The elevator chimes, and we step inside. I barely recognize myself in the mirrored walls and spin around, feeling out of place as we ascend to the top floor.

At the recruiting office for VOE, I was consistently one of the top performers.

I convinced reluctant individuals to sign up for our expensive courses and packages.

I knew how to figure out what people were seeking—or what they were running from—and use that to make more money.

In hindsight, it all feels very predatory, and I'm nervous tonight because I don't know if those skills will transfer here.

We reach the top floor and step into a space that looks more like a luxury apartment than a hotel room—it's worlds apart from the dingy room I’d been staying in all week.

“Johnny?” Savannah calls out, looking around the penthouse.

I follow her through the living room and am surprised to see a flight of stairs; this place is even larger than I thought.

A man in his fifties appears at the top of the stairs. “Where the fuck have you been? You’re thirty minutes late.”

“I was helping Hailey get ready! It’s her first day.”

He huffs and heads over to us but softens when he sees me. “Oh. I forgot we had someone new tonight. I’m Johnny, but I answer to Junior too. I run this circus, so if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. My son, Max, and Nick are working tonight to help keep the peace and deal cards.”

I perk up at the mention of Max’s name. Now that he said Max is his son, I see the resemblance. Johnny is heavier and has lost a lot of his hair, but Max has his eyes.

“I’m Hailey.” I extend my hand, and he shakes it with a smile.

“Look at you, all professional,” he says.

I ignore the condescending tone and withdraw my hand from his grip.

“It’s just serving drinks,” he continues. “And not complicated ones either. Mostly opening beer bottles and pouring whiskey. But these guests are worth millions, even billions, and travel from other cities to gamble with us. The last thing we need is to lose any of them due to poor service.”

“No problem, I can handle that.” I smile, relaxing a bit. This sounds much easier than my old job, though I still feel out of place. I was used to a formal environment with strict rules, which is not the case here.

He returns the smile, pats my shoulder, and starts to walk away. “You’re in good hands with Savannah. She’ll show you around before the guests arrive.”

Savannah gives me a quick tour. She explains we’ll spend most of our time in a room at the back watching the game or in the kitchen getting drinks and food.

I’m a terrible cook, so I’m relieved I’m not in charge of food; we call down to the hotel kitchen for that.

When the kitchen closes, we might have to toss a frozen pizza in the oven. Nothing I can’t handle.

The players start arriving just as Savannah finishes the tour. They’re mostly men in their forties to sixties wearing suits. They joke around with Savannah, who seems to know them well, leaving me awkwardly standing aside.

“And who might this be?” One of the men asks. His hair is stark white against his black suit, and he gives me a friendly smile.

“Hi, I’m Hailey Smith. It’s my first night,” I say with a shrug.

“Well, welcome, Hailey Smith. I’m Edward.” He turns to one of his fellow gamblers. “Just stay away from Roger here. He gets aggressive when he loses.” He laughs, and it sounds lighthearted.

“That was one time,” Roger responds. He's younger than Edward and has a slight accent I can’t quite place, though it seems from the East Coast. “One time! And I’d never take it out on the girls. Just because I can kick your ass...”

“Language!” someone shouts. “There are ladies present.”

I relax a bit with these men. I was expecting hardened criminals, seeing that this was an illegal gambling situation. But they seem oddly… normal. Richer than sin, but not threatening in the slightest.

Savannah rolls her eyes and grabs my arm. “Come on, they’ll bicker for a while.” She leads me back to the kitchen, asking which cocktails I know how to make. My answer: none. Apparently, I also don’t know how to pour a beer correctly.

“Do you drink at all?” Savannah wrinkles her nose, then quickly waves her hand. “Sorry, that sounded so judgmental.”

She turns her back to me, washing one of the beer glasses I wasted practicing.

“No, no, it’s fine. I don’t really drink. Never had the opportunity.”

She stops washing abruptly, and I wish I’d kept quiet. She spins around in her heels to face me. “Where’d you say you were from again?”

“Umm, Chicago.” I grew up in a suburb, but once my father became successful, we moved to the middle of the state for him to build his dream home. The compound I lived in the past few years isn’t far from there. I wish I’d picked a city less close to the truth—I don’t know if I can trust her yet.

She drops her towel in the sink. “You never had the opportunity to drink while growing up in Chicago? Really? I thought you were going to say you grew up in the middle of nowhere. Maybe a dry county down south.” She pauses.

“Oh shit. It’s not for religious reasons, is it? I’ll feel like such an asshole.”

“Uh, no, it’s not that... it’s... it’s...” I feel my face heating up and wish Savannah had applied that foundation so it wasn’t so obvious. I hear footsteps behind me in the kitchen. I turn and see it’s Max.

“What’s going on here?” He crosses his arms. “People are getting thirsty.”

“Sorry Maxy,” Savannah says. “I was making sure she knows how to make all the regular orders. She hasn't had bartending experience or even drinking experience.”

He grunts and looks me up and down with an unreadable expression. My already flushed face reddens more under his gaze. I’m sure he regrets hiring me for tonight.

“How old are you?” he asks.

“Twenty-three.”

He scratches the back of his head and nods, then quickly turns away.

“That’s funny,” Savannah says, her eyes twinkling. “He’s usually more talkative than that.”

“I’m guessing he’s pissed that I have no experience.”

As we walk back to the room where the poker players are, she snorts. “I don’t think that’s it, sweetheart. ”

I give her a questioning look, which she answers with a playful eye roll.

We approach the poker room, and I’m surprised by how quiet it is. The main sound is of chips being tossed into the pot. Johnny is dealing the cards while Nick and Max sit off to the side.

“About time!” one player shouts as Savannah and I enter.

I don’t recognize him from the earlier introductions in the living room.

He’s younger than the others—or so I think. The sunglasses he’s wearing indoors make it hard to tell his age. He rapidly flicks his fingers back and forth on the table, and his entire body vibrates with energy. I’ve never seen anyone so hyperactive before.

“Whiskey on the rocks,” he barks.

“I got this one,” Savannah says, placing a hand on my shoulder before stepping away.

“Hailey?” Roger catches my attention. “I’ll just have a scotch. Thank you so much.” I can tell he’s being extra polite to make up for the hyper guy’s behavior.

Before leaving the poker room, I glance up to see Max glaring at the whiskey guy with a murderous look. When his eyes meet mine, the anger is still evident for a split second. I let out a gasp that I hope no one heard as I head out to find some scotch.