Page 104 of Vicious Little Games

“If Dante knew they were going to strike, he didn’t tell me. But it’s possible he did know and is using this as a test,” Eli explains. “Your job is to negotiate a settlement with them without costing Dante too much money, but without letting them continue to strike.”

“Okay, so what is their current salary?” I ask while Cole flips through the stack of paperwork Eli gave him.

“That depends on the position,” Eli replies. “Waitstaff are paid the least, no more than twenty an hour, and the chefs make about thirty.”

“Thirty dollars an hour?” I repeat, my brow creasing as I do the mental math. “That's all? How do they afford to live on that much money?”

“Well, rich girl,” Cole starts without looking up from his paperwork. “They have to budget, you know, only buy the shit they need like housing and food, then save up and pray that they don't have any emergencies until the next payday.”

“What kind of emergency?”

“An emergency like their kid gets sick and has to go to the doctor,” he answers.

“Don't they have medical insurance?” I ask. Eli snickers as he watches and listens to us discuss salaries after recently pulling Cole’s dick out of me.

“Yeah, Cassie, they may have medical insurance. But that shit doesn't cover everything. There are copays and deductibles.”

When I don’t respond, Cole finally glances up. Seeing the look on my face he probably can tell that I don’t know what either of those things are, which makes me feel like the idiot Eli called us. “Have you ever been to a doctor?”

“Whenever Sophie or Madison or I get sick, a doctor just shows up and checks us in the penthouse.”

“That’s because you're rich as fuck,” Cole says with a crooked smile just as the elevator doors finally open on the lobby floor. “The rest of us have to schedule an appointment to go into the doctor’s office. The copay before you get to see the doctor could be fifty or a hundred and fifty dollars. Then, after the doc finishes the exam and does any blood tests or whatever, the office sends you a bill for what the insurance company won't cover or won't cover until you meet your deductible.”

When I continue to stare at him, he says with a sigh, “A deductible is usually a few thousand dollars that a patient has to pay out of pocket before the insurance will step in and help with costs.”

“Well, what's the point of having insurance if you still have to pay so much money out of pocket?” I ask as the three of us make our way to the front desk.

“That's the question everyone who has it wants to know,” he grumbles. “The system in this country is fucked. And that's only an example of one type of emergency that could bring an unexpected expense to a middle-class working family.”

Biting my lip, I start to drop it, but am too curious. “What are others?”

“Car trouble is a big one for those that can afford them. Cars are expensive. Most people make payments every month because they can't afford to buy a car for the full price. Then you have to have insurance on the car to drive it, get it inspected and pay taxes every year. If it breaks down and is not under warranty, then you have to pay whatever it costs to get a mechanic to fix it, which is never fucking cheap.”

“Mechanics charge you for parts and labor, the time it takes them to work to fix it. A new transmission could cost a couple grand,” Eli contributes.

“But it takes weeks for the employees here to make that kind of money,” I can’t help but point out.

“Exactly,” Cole says. “It sucks to be poor. People treat you differently.”

“How different?”

“Like you're trash,” Eli offers.

“Were you and Vanessa treated like that?” I ask him.

“Constantly. But now I know why my mom never wanted to get promotions to management or take better-paying jobs. She was trying to maintain a low profile so nobody would notice her.”

“She would rather live in poverty than have her father find her and you?”

“Yes,” he answers as we come to a stop in front of the empty front desk. Guess those employees decided to strike too. “And I don't blame her. He was a monster. She didn't want me to have anything to do with Yuri. He would've probably taken me from her and raised me to be his protégé.”

“So then if the mafia is so bad, why do you want to be my father's heir? It's not much different from being Yuri’s.”

“It's a million times different, Cassie,” Cole mutters. “Your father doesn't kill people without a good reason. I'm glad he ended that asshole Mitch that my mom used to date, the one who got her into all the mess with the Russians. I had no idea they showed up at our apartment and beat her up. She didn't tell me, and I was in New York.”

“What would you have done if you had known?”

“Fuck if I know. Kill Mitch to start with, I guess.”

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