Page 5 of Redemption

Victoria forced down a long gulp of crappy, piss-poor beer. “Yes.”

“What kind of sales your boss barking at you about?”

She looked side to side then leaned forward. The bartender took the bait, inching closer and leaned too. Victoria whispered, “Couples’ products.”

The woman leaned back, not registering what she meant.

Well, hell.The plan to girl-talk the dirty deets over orgasm sales wasn’t going to fly if she didn’t clue in. “As in, pleasure.”

Even if the woman was ultra-conservative and pooh-poohed the whole idea ofcouples’ products,she would at least broach the topic of a boyfriend, and they could go from there.

“You sell pornos?” Her lip curled up as if she didn’t believe it.

And neither did Victoria. “No.” She laughed, actually embarrassed, and not needing to feign it for the purpose of forging girl talk. “Maybe this is why my boss is on my ass.”

The lady laughed. “I got one of those too.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“What is a couples’ product, if not porno?”

“Do you watch porn with your man?”

“Do I look like the type?” The bartender scowled.

Was she saying she didn’t watch porn or didn’t like men? “I’m the one failing at the lube and toys biz. I don’t know.”

“Ah, honey.” She slapped the rag down, finally wiping away the old glass sweat rings. “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Why?” Victoria made a face, leaning close again. “It’sawesome.”

“Might be, but my man is old school.Awesomeain’t old school.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Maybe you bring him someawesomeand change his mind.”

The bartender cackled and leaned back, shaking her head. She reached over for a pack of smokes with the lighter shoved in the plastic wrap, pulled a cigarette out, and let it dangle unlit on her lip. “He likes what he likes, when he likes it, how he likes it.”

That sounded like it sucked. “And you?”

The lighter flicked, and she drew deeply until the red ember crawled down the paper. After letting the smoke out her nostrils, she ashed in a bottle. “I get mine.”

“The way you like it?”

“This is your job?” She gestured with the cigarette. “To talk to folks about how they diddle each other?”

“Guess when you put it like that, it is today.”

“Vanna,” a man at the end of the bar bellowed.

“Well, good luck with your boss.” She dropped the cigarette into the bottle and headed to the yeller.

Victoria forced down as much of the crap beer as she could in order to get the woman back for a refill.Damn.The place was called the Ice House.Think the draft could be a few degrees colder than room temperature?

She took another couple huge gulps as the door opened. Two people entered. They meandered slowly, taking time to sidle up to the bar, one on each side of her. Jeez, she had no time to be hit on, and it was about noon. Why did they want to make a move on a woman slamming back beer on her lunch hour?Becauseshe was slamming beer at her lunch hour.Hello…

But her ears pricked as they chatted to each other. Russian accents. Definitely the right bar, though neither were her bail-jumper.

The bartender hustled over when she saw them, her eyes worried, almost guilty. They quickly glanced at Victoria, but their eyes didn’t stay on her long. An instinctive burst of chill bumps cascaded down her arms, and the woman behind the bar quickly went to work getting what seemed to be the men’s usual drinks. There was tension in the air.

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