Page 50 of Marcus-stiltskin

I smirk. “No, no, Marcus is great.” I run my hands over my face and sigh. “I think I’m pretty close to being let go.”

“Do I need to go talk to Randy?”

I shake my head. The last thing I want is for anyone else to get caught up in this. “No. It’s just…Zach asked me to come in tonight and then just told me he wanted me close to the bar. Zander had to volunteer to follow me just so I could get a shot at a decent area.”

“That motherfucker.”

“Maybe I should just leave before my schedule gets worse..”

She sits down at the table and leans in close, her sexy excavator costume getting in the way as the hat with the digging arm falls between us. Despite myself, it sets me off giggling as she has to turn away from me for a moment and stick a dozen more bobby pins in to keep it in place.

“As I was about to say,” she says, leaning in and speaking in a whisper. “I know some girls who’ve gone to the city to dance. It’d be a drive to see your man, but the pack that runs it is a lot less squeamish about customers dying than the Lamars are.”

I’m afraid to ask, but can’t help myself. “Why are they less squeamish?”

“The clubs are all owned by the Degarmo family. I can get you an audition. You’d get picked up in no time.”

“The Degarmo family? They’re real?” I’d heard people talk about a mafia family that ran things in the city, but I thought people were just being overdramatic. So many people are constantly convinced crime is occurring right under their noses. I figured that it was probably just rumors.

“I can’t work for the mafia.” I whisper back.

She shrugs. “It’s not like you have to dance a set then go out and tie bricks to a guy. It’s stripping, just like here, but for guys with more money. Your boss there wouldn’t give a damn if you took out some scumbag.”

I sigh. “I don’t want to take out anyone, and I don’t think I can work for the mafia, but thanks.”

“If you change your mind, let me know. Like I said, I know some girls and I’ve been thinking about auditioning myself.”

That stops me. “You? You’d move to the city?” Shania has lived in Black Raven County her whole life. I can’t imagine her becoming a city girl, but maybe she’s tired of the same old, same old. But still… working for the mafia?

“Are you sure? It’s the mafia… What if you want to leave? Won’t they take you out to the docks?”

She snickers. “It’s a business like everything else, Steely. They’re not letting you into the pack, they’re laundering money. If their strippers constantly died, there’d be a lot of people asking questions.”

“True…just promise me, you’ll be careful.”

She winks. “I’m always careful.”

I laugh. “That is a lie.”

We aren’t huggy friends, but I reach out anyway and squeeze her quickly before I stand up. “I’ll miss you when you go.”

She smiles. “Times are changing and so are we. You’ve got a serious man, Ella’s about to head off to law school, and I’m itching for something new. It’s a good time for us all.”

Randy knocks, forcing an end to the conversation. He steps in to give everyone one of his big night pep talks before they start the show. It’s my cue to get on the floor, but I’m not eager to talk to either Lamar Alpha tonight. Not when I’m this close to just not showing up tomorrow. I pause to let him get a few dozen steps ahead of me before giving Shania a kiss on the cheek and head out myself.

In the time I’ve been backstage, the club has already started filling up. It’s early, but that hasn’t stopped people from coming in dressed as every possible thing one could imagine. There’s several T-Rexes, bears, anime characters, sexy versions of every profession you can imagine, and even some hobbits–at least I hope that’s a costume. With the fae living in the back lot, you never know who or what is in the club these days.

I spot Marcus right away. He’s early, of course, because, just like Lugh, you can take the man out of the military, but you can’t take the military out of the man. He stands near the door, looking hot and uncertain in his scarecrow costume. I walk around the bar to sneak up behind him.

“I’ll get you, my pretty and your little–” I start to say in the worst witch voice that’s ever been attempted, only to have him turn and pull me to him.

“That is the absolute worst witch impression I’ve ever heard. Are you sure you’re the real thing?” he teases.

I slap him on the butt. “It’s the thought that counts.”

He laughs and kisses me on the forehead. “So, this is where you work?”

“Yep. Come on, I’ve got you a place at the bar already next to some regulars.”

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