Page 73 of Spades

Great. Just come in the shop when you get here.

She responds with a thumbs-up emoji.

A little businesslike, so I send a kissing emoji back to her.

No response.

She’s probably on the L. Even when it’s above the ground, cell service can be spotty.

I continue closing. I won’t draw the curtains quite yet because I don’t want her to think it’s closed when she arrives. Instead, I’ll count the cash in the register and put the day’s profits into my safe.

A lot of people who come here pay in cash instead of credit cards—I guess I attract a more old-fashioned demographic—so I have a decent amount to get through.

I hear the bell attached to my front door ring, and I look up.

Alissa is standing there, dusting her jacket off. She waves a mittened hand at me, but she’s not smiling.

I cross over to her and take her coat.

“Cold out there?”

She rolls her eyes. “No. It’s a balmy seventy degrees, quite temperate, as is often the case in Chicago in the dead of winter.”

I chuckle. “I see you’re in a playful mood.”

She frowns. “Hardly.” She lets her hair out of the messy bun on top of her head and twirls it around her finger. “I actually was just at the club.”

I drop my jaw. “You were?”

She nods. “Remember last night? I opened a tab, gave my credit card to DeeDee and Dudley. I left in such a hurry, and after that band of goons descended on me, I forgot about it completely.”

“But how did you get in?” I check my watch. “They’re not even open yet. And you’re not a member—even if they did let you in, it would have to be as someone’s guest.”

My heart twists. Did she find another member and ask him to take her in with him? Most of the men at Aces aren’t gentlemen like I am. They’ll expect something in return. Something involving Alissa minus her clothes.

She shrugs. “Chet let me in.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Chet?”

But in a way, that doesn’t surprise me. Chet loves to stir the pot, push the envelope, see how much he can get away with. Honestly, I’m not sure why Rouge keeps him around. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard of him breaking her hard-and-fast rules.

“But how I got in isn’t the point, Maddox. I met with May?—”

“May?”

“The server girl. The seven of spades.”

“Oh.” I scratch my head. “How did you find out her real name?”

“She told me.”

I widen my eyes. “But they’re not allowed to speak.”

Alissa reaches into her purse and grabs a tiny blue piece of paper. “She slipped this to me last night. It’s Vietnamese—my friend Dinah helped me translate it. It’s a message asking for help.”

“What?”

“Exactly. So while I was in the club, I took her aside into one of those private rooms and asked her about it. She doesn’t speak very good English, but?—”

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