Page 5

FOUR

TEN GRAND

NICOLETTE

S ometimes I’m amazed that Officer Burns suggested I apply for this job.

That was back around Halloween. I’d only been working at Mama Maria’s for about six weeks then, but I met the steely-eyed cop and his young wife during one of my first shifts. Considering all of my prior work experience—that I was willing to put on a resume, at least—came from doing various serving jobs in Willowbrook, I settled in quickly at the cozy Italian restaurant near my mother’s house in downtown Springfield.

It was fine. Set in a seedier part of the city, the customers tipped as well as they could. I was still grateful to have found a job anyway, but when one of my regulars mentioned that I might be a good fit for the local nightclub, I was curious.

Then I discovered he meant the Devil’s Playground and I almost couldn’t believe it.

I thought it was so odd. A cop of all people having an in with one of the local mafias… but who am I kidding?

Two years in Willowbrook didn’t make me forget about the corruption in Springfield. I knew from experience that the cops were either in Devil’s pocket or Damien Libellula’s. The ones on the East End wouldn’t help me survive; they’d hand me right back over to Kieran if they knew the truth of who I was.

But Officer Burns? I think he saw in me a victim—fuck that, a survivor —and, regardless of whose payroll he’s on, I’ll always appreciate how he not only told me to apply, but he gave me a glowing recommendation to the man who interviewed me.

It was a formality. Rolls mentioned that Burns said I was his favorite server at Mama Maria’s, and while he and his wife, Angela, would miss me there, there was money to be made serving at the Playground.

And, like I told Rolls, I needed money. I’ve never shied away from the fact that I’m an independent woman who needs to survive on my own. Money makes that possible.

Did that mean I was for sale?

Men like Miles Haines obviously think so.

I don’t know why I’m so hard against just taking a second gig upstairs. With my mom in Florida, it’s not like I have anything else to do when I’m not working. Too worried about being seen, I go to the Playground and back, and that’s really about it. I stay home. I watch television. I read books.

Why shouldn’t I kill a couple of hours with some company, get paid well for it, and forget for a moment that I’m super fucked up when it comes to intimacy?

I want to say it’s being here in Springfield. That the specter of Kieran Alfieri has me holding back, but if I’m being honest, it’s more than that.

It’s him .

I know I’m being silly. Ridiculous. Like a schoolgirl with a crush, I keep sneaking peeks at my gorgeous boss—not Jessie, but the man who hired me—whenever he’s at the Playground. Maybe if he hadn’t been the one to so matter-of-factly explain that I could stay downstairs and sell drinks, or I could go upstairs and sell myself, I might have thought about it.

But because it was Rolls who gave me the option, I found myself hesitant to do so. Almost like he would judge me or something.

I don’t know. Add that to how the girls upstairs make me think of the ‘lovely ladies’ from Les Mis, and I just… it would take a lot for me to agree. I’m not as desperate as I was when I first left Springfield, and while I told Haines that the price for my pussy was ten grand, that’s only because I knew he would never pay it.

Yup. I was wrong about that one.

It’s closing in on the end of my shift. My feet are barking, my shorts gave me a wedgie an hour ago that I’ve been too busy to pick, I’ve had ‘Memory’ from Cat in my head for the last fifteen minutes, and I had just gotten over one of the more handsier wallets tweaking my tit for a twenty when someone taps me on my shoulder from behind.

Smile, Nic. Always keep that smile on your face.

Though, yeah, it kinda wavers a bit when I find Miles standing behind me.

He’s wearing an ill-fitting suit, dark hair in disarray from where he ran his fingers through it at some point tonight, dark eyes drawn irrevocably to my cleavage. One hand flutters anxiously at his side. The other? It’s holding a plain brown briefcase.

“I got your message from Brit,” he says to me.

I have no clue what he’s talking about.

“Message? What message?”

He pats the briefcase in his hand. “Ten grand. Cash in hand. Isn’t that what you said?”

“You’re joking.”

Miles flips open the lid on the case. I’m not sure what ten grand looks like bundled up, but, uh… that’s a lot of money in there.

“You gave me your word. If I gave you ten grand to walk out of here with me one night at the end of your shift, you’ll give me the rest of it. Remember? From midnight to eight a.m., I get you to do whatever I want with. You promised. And, well, I’ve delivered.”

Holy. Shit.

“That’s ten grand?” I ask, stunned.

He nods. “I’m sure you’ll want to count it. When I’m getting my room ready for you, you can do that, but once you see there’s ten grand, like I promised, then you’ll do what you promised.”

I can’t believe this. For the last two weeks or so, every shift I have at the Playground, Miles would ask me what it would take for a night. Not even just a quick fuck. He wanted a full night, with the only caveat being that I could get him to wrap up his dick. Other than that, nothing else was off the table.

And the only reason I agreed with something absolutely ridiculous is because I never, ever in a million years thought he would agree with my stipulation.

I… I don’t know what to say. I’m having a hard time tearing my gaze away from all that green, but can I really go home with this guy for eight hours? I… shit?—

“What’s going on here?”

My head snaps up. While I was staring at the money, someone joined us.

God damn it. What would it take for a hole to open up right now that would conveniently swallow me whole? Because that? That would be great.

Anything would be preferable to standing here, discussing my price with a customer when Rolls McIntyre suddenly appears.

His suit, I notice, is not ill-fitting. The white button-down fits him perfectly, and the black suit jacket—an exact match in the shade to his creased pants—is perfectly tailored to his body. Up close, he seems deceptively slender, though I’d put money I don’t have yet down that he’s got a sculpted body hidden beneath the fancy clothes.

Haines smirks over at Rolls. “Nothing much. Just making arrangements with one of your girls.”

Rolls looks at me, a pleasantly curious expression on his handsome face. “Is that so?”

What can I say? Technically, that is what’s going on. “Yes.”

And I know from the reactions of both men that one simple word means that I’ve agreed. Because, well… I have. For that much money, I can’t refuse.

Rolls’s blue eyes rove over the cash still on display. “I hope you brought more than that with you, Haines.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

He shrugs. “I’m hosting a private poker game in ten minutes. Big rollers only. I was hoping to invite you to it. There’s a chance to make a lot of money… but you know the drill.”

Miles’s greedy dark eyes dart down to the briefcase. “Cash in hand. Alright. Yeah. No, this is just a little chunk of change I brought to make sure Nicolette is free tonight.”

“Are you?”

Again, he sounds so aloof, but I can’t help but wonder why he seems so interested. Because I work here? Or is there something more to it?

“My shift is over at midnight.”

“And at 12:01, she’s coming home with me,” brags Miles.

Rolls raises his eyebrows. “You’re not taking her upstairs? That’s not how we do things at the Playground.”

I know why, too. It isn’t just that the Sinners expect a cut of their girls’ profits for renting the room upstairs. They— we —aren’t paying for the space. It’s the level of protection we’re assured, where if any of the wallets try to take more than they paid for, someone will be there to make sure they don’t.

“I know,” Miles agrees easily, though there’s a dare in the way he juts out his chin. “But for ten grand, I’d prefer to spend the rest of the night somewhere I’m comfortable.”

“I see. Well, if you’re interested in the game, come on by.”

“I will.”

He waits a moment to see if Rolls is going to walk away first. When my boss doesn’t, he mouths something to me—I pretend not to see—then shuffles away.

As soon as he’s gone, Rolls leans in so that I can hear him over the loud music. He obviously doesn’t want anyone else to listen in as he murmurs, “If you don’t want to go with him, you don’t have to.”

I know that. But if I don’t? I won’t get that money, either. “Thanks for looking out for me, Rolls. I appreciate it. But if he’s willing to pay…” I feel a little embarrassed admitting that, but what can I do? “You said, if I changed my mind about what I sell here…”

He nods as my voice trails off. “I get it. Okay. It’s my job to make sure to check in with you, but you’re right. It’s up to you if you want to go with him. But if you’re looking for some extra trips tonight, tell Jessie I said to put you onto the casino tables instead of the floor until your shift’s over. It’s only another half an hour or so, but every little bit helps, yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah. Thanks.”

His pretty blue eyes gleam warmly down at me. “Don’t mention it.”

It’s the first hint I see of the ice around him beginning to thaw, and I just wished that had happened before tonight.