Page 3 of Nine

“I picked up your dry cleaning, stocked the fridge, paid all the bills, and called the plumber to deal with the sink upstairs. He will be here sometime tomorrow evening. Oh, and the neighbor stopped by again. He said, and I quote, ‘If you can tell that red-headed girl to stop parking wherever the hell she likes, that would be great.’”

“Did you tell him to eat a bowl of shit?” I smirk.

“No, but the next time he comes by, I’ll be sure to pass that on.” She quickly glances up and smiles.

“Okay and…” I wave my hand in the air. She returns her gaze back to the computer.

“You have a two o’clock at The Grand Belsier Hotel. Room 204,” Jenny says, typing away.

I toss my coat over the sofa, yawn, and slip out of my stilettos.

“Who is it?” I inquire. “Howard or Jake?” I toss a thick pile of money on Jenny’s desk.

“Neither. It’s actually a new guy named Mr. V. You’re going to want this one. Trust me.” She picks up the money and starts to count it.

I frown. “We had a deal. No more new customers.”

She ignores me as she continues counting. She types in a few numbers on her computer and then stands up, walks over and pushes me to the couch. I plop down and she starts massaging my shoulders.

“You know you could stop. You don’t need to do this anymore.”

“It’s not that easy. Somebody has to pay the bills on this place and the two cars outside and the nice clothes and —”

She cuts me off. “Do you know how much money is in the back room? You don’t, do you?”

“A lot,” I shrug. I stopped checking the books months ago.

“A lot is an understatement. That room is wall to wall packed with cash. I can only keep putting so much into the bank. We need to do something with it. We could start a business,” Jenny says.

“We already did.” I tilt my head back, look up at her, and smile. She pushes my head back down in frustration and continues to massage my neck.

“Thank you, smartass. I mean one that is legit. One where you don’t have to do what you do.”

“What I do makes us a lot of money.” I pause. “Where is this all coming from anyway? Why is this suddenly up for discussion?”

“It’s just, you seem a little disconnected lately. I thought —”

“You thought what? That I need a career change? Maybe a new job would perk me up? Come on, Jenny. Are we really going to go there?” I snort.

Just talking about it makes me feel uncomfortable.

“It’s not a bad idea, Nine.” I turn my body around and glare at her. She backs away from the couch with her hands up. “Fine, forget I said anything. Geesh.”

I relax my face. “This new guy, Mr. V., who referred him?”

“He wouldn’t say. I tried to get rid of him. I really did, but he insisted. He requested an all-nighter with everything.” Her eyes light up.

“Really? I haven’t had one of those in a while.”

An all-nighter with everything is just what it sounds like. Every position, every act, and nothing is off limits except for the two rules. This would easily cost him ten grand.

“That’s why I took him. You once said to me if a guy ever asks for an all-nighter, never turn him away, even if he is new. By the way, he’s been waiting patiently for you, almost over a month. He’s desperate, just like the rest. I forgot I added him to the list until I checked the calendar this morning. He called a few hours ago to confirm as well.”

I exhale hard, and then throw my feet up on the coffee table. She pats my shoulder and then walks away from me into the kitchen. I can hear her pulling things out of the fridge. She returns after a few minutes with a turkey sandwich and some fruit.

“Your lunch, ma’am.”

“You are too good to me.” I smile.

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