Page 48 of Spades

I drop my jaw. “You mean the patrons can…solicitthe waitstaff?”

Maddox nods. “Yeah. Part of the deal. You have to pay extra, of course. But Rouge encourages it. It’s part of the experience. ‘Pick a card, any card,’ she usually says.”

“But that’s prostitution!”

Maddox frowns. “No, it’s not. The waitstaff are allowed to refuse services of any nature to any patrons. It’s all consensual. Of course, if they refuse a proposition, they won’t get the tip.”

He’s really all right with this? “How can you think this is okay? These people probably came to this country with nothing.”

“And Rouge is giving them the opportunity to make something of themselves. Start fresh. The American dream.”

“Whoring yourself out to the Chicago upper crust ishardlythe American dream.”

Maddox scoffs. “You have two degrees in music. You were hoping to monetizeyournatural gifts and talents. What’s so bad about them doing the same?”

I stand quickly. “You can rationalize it whichever way you want, Maddox. But these people are being used for sex.”

“No one’s forcing them. They probably enjoy it.”

I gasp at his words, and before I know it, I’ve picked up my martini glass and thrown its contents in his face.

“What the fuck, Alissa?”

“What the fuck yourself, Maddox.” I grab my purse, along with the note Seven left behind. I can’t believe I thought I was falling in love with this jerk. “I’m out of here.” I take a few steps away but then turn back to Maddox. “I thought you were different. But no, you’re just like every other creep I’ve dated in this godforsaken city.”

“Alissa, wait?—”

But I’m already storming out. I ascend the staircase and knock three times at the door.

Chet opens the door. “Ah, Miss Wonder. Leaving so soon?”

“You bet your pinstriped arse I am.”

Chet cocks his head. “Trouble in paradise?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” I place a hand on the knob of the black door that leads to the alleyway and look back at Chet. “Or maybe you do. Whatever the hell kind of a business you’re running here, I won’t have anything more to do with it.”

“Miss Wonder?—”

But already I’ve slammed the door behind me. I walk into the brisk Chicago night.

More than brisk. The sun has been down for a few hours now, and even though it was a nice day, it’s gotten much colder.

And I’m wearing nothing but this tight little dress and fedora.

God, this fucking fedora, which I bought to please Maddox. There’s fifty bucks I’ll never see again. The thrift shop where I purchased it has a strict no-return policy.

I’ll get out onto Randolph and hail a cab.

Except…

Damn it all. My credit card is back at the bar. I insisted on paying for Maddox’s drinks tonight. More money I’ll never see again.

But I can’t go back in there, not after the scene I just made.

I’ll call the credit card company and get a new card tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ll just use Apple Pay on my phone, and I’ll order an Uber home.

Except.

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