Page 73 of Underground Prince

“Tell me you liked it,” Kai said.

I thought back, through that red curtain, heavy with glittering tapestry and gold invitation, and into that room, dark, musky, dirty with temptation. The plaster was cracked, years of cigar smoke and bad breath burned into its bones, the bar cheap and sticky with varnish, the women overdone and the men underdone, grease and sweat the predominant facial foundation of choice. But stepping inside and finding a table, perching at the edge of gluttony and dealing in plastic and speed, I felt what they all did.

“I loved it.”

“Good.” Kai slid the word around like he’d just savored particularly rich caviar. “And yes, you do have a debt to pay. To me.”

He helped me to my feet and took the stairs, and I fell in behind him, grumbling at his back. “This is so messed up. What if I walked out with double the chips and threw them in your face instead?”

“But you didn’t,” he said over his shoulder.

“Oh, screw you.”

“Anyway,” he said once we reached the top. “You’ll pay me back, easy.”

“I’ll pick up more shifts,” I said.

“Scarlet.” He laid a hand on my shoulder, speaking as though he were telling a toddler the facts of life. “You’re not going to pay me back in tips.”

“I’m not?”

He beamed. “You’ll pay me back in winnings.”

Kai flung the door open with such flair that I was addressing the entire kitchen staff when I said, “What?”

Kai appeared in the doorway again. “You gonna hang out in a secret staircase all afternoon, or join me for dinner?”

Sputtering, I took the hand that he offered, but felt it was less of a helping hand and more a seal of doom.

* * *

We sat in the very restaurant I gambled in, me inhaling noodles, and Kai munching on shrimp dumplings. Kai snagged us seats near the front and against the window, the sky taking on a gray cast as the sun sank and left us to our own dark devices.

“I must admit,” Kai said after swallowing a giant bite of dough, “You proved me wrong today.”

“In what way?” I asked wryly, popping noodles into my mouth with my chopsticks. I swallowed before adding, “That I could recognize a flush? I’ve been paying attention while in my bra serving beer. Things have registered.” I winced. “Just don’t ask me what a full house is.”

He waggled his chopsticks at me. “Don’t stab me in the windpipe for saying this, but I was convinced you were doing it all for Sax.” I sighed, pushing back from my meal. Kai must have thought I was taking it the wrong way because he said in a rush, “But now I see you’re not. There’s no way a woman working to impress some dude would have the kind of chops you did down there. You didn’t run, give up, or cry for your Mommy—”

“Hey.”

“I mean you weren’t scared. You had money that wasn’t yours in a room you didn’t recognize, with people who like to protect their currency with fists and metal—and there you were.”

I resumed eating. “Some might have another word for what I did.”

He lifted his bowl of hot and sour soup, shrugging and saying before the broth met his lips, “You were safe.”

“Yeah.” I spun my noodles in a lazy circle. My stomach gurgled, but not because it was hungry. Though it did feel empty, as we sat aboveground, eating a quiet dinner despite what was going on beneath our feet. Reminiscing about what I’d done seemed to make the void larger. “As for Sax, he’s our boss. My boss.”

Kai arched a brow over his bowl. “Sure is.”

“And you know what? I don’t know what the hell to do with him.” The beer—our second of the night—was making me giddy, and I saluted Kai with it.

“First step is admitting you have a problem,” Kai said seriously, then gummed it up by grinning.

“You’re clearly going to be useless on this,” I said, flicking broth at him with a chopstick.

He lifted his bowl, threatening to topple the whole thing on me, though there wasn’t much left.

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