Chapter 3
Nadine.
There was nothing worse than having a mood swing right before you get to work.
Anna was playing a game when she saw it- the rejection mail.
I've always tried to make ends meet by doing many things simultaneously.
I sent an application to an art gallery in Spokane to have some of my works exhibited, but again, it got rejected.
I changed into the T-shirt that had waiter inscribed on it and pushed my shirt into my bag.
"Finally," Naomi scoffed. "I was scared I was going to lie again."
"Ourgh, no."
She wasn't going to lie to me today. She usually did that whenever the Boss asked, and I wasn't at work yet.
"I lied that you are busy serving a customer, you know how brutal boss can be" she sighs.
"Thanks, Naomi" I smiled and picked up a tray.
This was a phase, and I could handle rejection a second time.
"Are you good?"
I nudged the strand of my red hair out of my face and exhaled. "Yeah- I'm fine."
I tried to smile, but it was so fake, and I just got irritated.
"Did something happen at home?"
"No. Why?"
"Cause you look uh- I don't know the word, but you don't look okay."
I chuckled lightly. "I guess it's a good thing that you can't place the word."
"No, it's frustrating. You're difficult to read, and that's the problem."
"Oh shit. Can we stop talking about me and talk about the story? The one we couldn't talk over the phone."
"Here is not the best place to talk about it either."
"Naomi."
She laughed. "Oh, you like my gossips, huh?"
I wasn't going to deny it. I did love her stories and the feelings that came with them.
They made me curious and amused and sometimes I just felt bad for her on how she knows everyone's business.
What she goes through to get these gossips before anyone does.
I wish I could be like her. Tell stories to ease my pain but the stories I had were depressing as fuck, and the only exciting story I had could get me into trouble if anyone heard it.
The big men appear during the weekends to have a glass of expensive drinks. Drinks that could pay Anna Moore's tuition and give me some regular cash.
I've been hell broke since I lost my online job and with the rejections of my artwork.
The only pay I am surviving on is the salary from the club, and of course, the little money I make from these men.
It was simple.
Get them to believe I'm going to pleasure them and have them drugged.
Just a little amount incapable of killing them. I can't imagine going to jail for murder and leaving Anna Moore to be without a family.
It's a fraud, and I can get caught for it, but at this point, I dont care.
"Isn't that nice?" Naomi's voice asked, and I realized how lost I was.
"Yeah," I blurted trying to hide the fact that I wasn't following her story.
"Oh my god!" She scowled. "You're not listening."
I sighed. "Okay, I need your help."
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"With what?" She asked.
"Can you find out who is lodging at the VIP suite tonight?"
"Nadine! How am I-"
"Please. I know you have access to it."
"Fine." She turned away, and after maneuvering the system, she turned back to me.
"Clayton Rocco. A fucking rich business tycoon."
"Thanks," I responded and gave her a small smile.
"I' 'll leave you to work your shift now." She reached for her bag, and I frowned.
"Just wait a little longer," I told her. I needed her to get this done.
I usually knew my next target from this time, so it'd be easier to keep up with them and get my task done.
"Ladies," a voice called, and it was the Boss.
"There's a room in the suite that needs a drink, go there quickly."
"Oh, sure. I got it."
I looked at the paper and a small smile crept on my lips.
It was the suite, Clayton's suite.
All I needed was a means to carry out this damn plan of mine.
I got the drink and headed to the room. I knocked gently. "Customer Service."
The lighting was dim and silver walls flashed at my face in a midnight-blue flicker.
I swallowed hard as I strode inside and gently dropped the order on a side table.
He wasn't inside the room and I could tell he would be out for only a moment. Who the hell leaves their door open after making an order?
As I lowered the drink, my eyes caught the briefcase on the bed.
"Oh, my god."
It was opened and stacked with dollars. I looked around, and there was no sight of him so I tiptoed closer.
If I took a few bucks, there was no way he'd notice and that way, I didn't even have to go ahead with seducing or doing shit.
I took the first ton of cash and slid it into my dress. I took the second and when I figured that would be enough to get away with, I reached for the briefcase to adjust it the way I saw it. "Who the fuck are you?" A voice asked and I froze.
GOD NO!
"Are you deaf?" His hoarse voice asked again, but I was still panting hard and unable to turn to face him.
The consequences of my actions flashed in my eyes, and I felt so hopeless.
"I'll lock you up and-"
I turned to face him immediately. "Please, no. I'm only a waitress here and-"
His gaze shone at the sight of me, like he recognize me from somewhere.
"A thief? Nobody steals from me bitch!"
"Please don't report me, I'll do whatever you want. Please, I'll lose my job if you do."
"I don't care about you or your fucking job. You stole from me and I'll make sure you suffer for that." "Please, sir. I- I can't afford -"
"Of course can't afford shit," he cussed. "I'll let you go on one condition."
My eyes lit up.
"Warm my bed for the night, you slut."