Page 54 of All Bets Are Off

“He also scratches his balls in public,” one of the other women with Olivia and Halley volunteered. “It doesn’t take him long.”

Kellen glowered at her. “Thank you so much for your input, Ariel,” he growled.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, her smile growing broader.

I held up my hand to stop things before they got out of control. “Maybe we should take a breath. It would help if we had a written list of your demands.” The statement was barely out ofmy mouth before Olivia slipped out a folder from the briefcase she was carrying and dumped a stack of papers on the table.

“There’s your list of demands,” Olivia replied. She sent me a sunny smile. “That was a great idea.”

A growl erupted, but I managed to tamp it down fast. “Thank you.” I grabbed one of the sheets of paper and read it. I almost choked when I got to the third line. “You want a tribunal to censure club owners who don’t follow the agreed upon rules?” I was officially dumbfounded.

“This whole exercise is a master class on futility if there are no consequences for misbehaving,” Halley replied. “There are repercussions if someone gets handsy with a cocktail waitress. There are bonuses for showgirls if they go above and beyond. We want the same options afforded to us.”

I scanned the bullet items on the sheet. Regulated pay that wasn’t based solely on tips seemed fair. A monetary scale for women who had been in the business for years didn’t seem like much of a stretch. Paid sick leave should’ve been a given. The last item on the list had me raising an eyebrow.

“You want childcare rooms put in the clubs?” I was flabbergasted.

Halley smirked. “That one is negotiable. However, childcare is expensive. If certain allowances were made?—”

“You can’t have toddlers in a strip club,” Brian practically exploded. “There’s no whale who is going to want to party it up with a child screaming in the next room.”

“We’re not suggesting that the childcare rooms be open for anybody to see,” Olivia countered. “Most of these clubs have room in the back for daycare. It seems like a decent option for breaks.”

“Oh, right.” Kellen rolled his eyes. “I’m not agreeing to any of this.”

“Then I guess you’ve made your decision.” Olivia moved to stand. She didn’t look surprised by Kellen’s refusal to play the games. “You should take this as your notification that the dancers in the city are going on strike. Your clubs will be without entertainment—your whales unhappy—until you come to the negotiating table with more than just eye rolls and snickers.”

Halley nodded in agreement.

“We’ll just bus in new strippers,” Brian said. “I mean … there are plenty of wannabe starlets in Los Angeles. If we pay them, they’ll strip to make a few bucks.”

“Good luck with that.” Halley showed her teeth when she let loose a feral smile. “You guys think we do nothing but hang onto a pole and shake our asses. You’re about to find out that we do a lot more than that.” She turned on her heel and headed toward the exit.

I watched her go, a sense of helplessness clawing through me. The assembled casino and bar representatives exploded, shouting expletives at one another—mostly Brian and Kellen—instead of the bargaining team. I used their distraction as cover to give chase.

“Livvie.” I grabbed her wrist before she could disappear outside. “What are you doing?” I was plaintive.

“I believe in their cause,” she replied, lifting a shoulder. “I want to help them.”

“But you’re hurting me.”

“No, I’m not.” She shook her head. “I’m fighting for what’s right.” She hesitated a beat before finishing it out. “I’m sorry if this makes things more difficult for you—I honestly wasn’t expecting to see you here—but I have to do what I feel is right. Please understand that. This isn’t about you.”

It felt as if it was about me. “This is going to get ugly, Livvie.”

She nodded. “I know. Some things are worth fighting for, though.” With that, she followed her group out of the tunnel and into the bright light of day.

If I thought things were bad before, I recognized they were about to get way worse. This was not good.

13

THIRTEEN

Zach’s frustration at my involvement with the dancers didn’t dissipate.

For days after the meeting in the Paris tunnel, he refused to engage with me. That meant thanking him for the daily lattes that were showing up at our door was difficult. I refused to make myself small so his life could be easier, though. Helping Halley and the other women—people I’d become genuinely fond of—was giving me purpose. I needed that purpose because I had no idea what my professional life was going to turn into. At least now I had a project.

He was on the couch watching a basketball game when I left my bedroom in a glittery pink cocktail dress. We’d been married almost a month at this point—how had time gone so fast when I thought it was going to drag?—but we rarely did things together. That’s why, when Tallulah messaged that she had an unexpected night off thanks to a scheduling snafu, I jumped at the chance to go out with her.

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