Page 14 of Devoured
I had changed my mind because I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the way she put me on edge. The cinnamon and cranberry scent on her skin lingered after she had left Vanish, but was potent in our current booth. Her hair was black now, like her picture. Her eyes black-rimmed and completely dark in the shadows of the club.
“What can I help you with?” I asked.
“I want to buy the Dahlia District from you,” she said. She pulled out her phone and clicked through the apps. “I’ve been saving for years to use this as a down payment.”
She showed me the screen: one hundred thousand and seventy-two dollars, twenty-three cents. Hardly enough to put a dent in what I had bought the property for.
“You were planning on buying it from Dahlia?” I asked.
“Eventually.” I stifled a smirk, and she continued, “You don’t need this club. It’s not in a good city. And besides, you’ve got enough going on with Vanish. Why add another location, when you’ve got an entire chain to worry about?”
“I’m always looking for the next opportunity,” I said. She pinched her lips together; she wasn’t convinced. “Cresting Heights may be a small town, but with a revamp to this location, it could be exactly what this area needs. And with its proximity to Sage City? Business will carry over, and vice versa.” I shrugged, glancing around. “It’ll take some work, but there’s a lot of potential here.”
“Exactly,” Iris said. She showed me her phone again. “Please. All I’m asking is for you to consider it. I want this club. I need it.” She shook her head as if thinking to herself. “But you don’t. You don’t need anything like I do.”
That may have been true, but the sad fact was that her money wasn’t enough.
“Sorry, doll,” I said.
She clenched her fists and groaned. “Tell me, what’s special about your clubs anyway?” she asked. “You think they’re high end when all they are is a place where stupid twenty-somethings take shitty drugs and buy overpriced drinks.”
“And I make a profit off of it.”
“Is that all that matters? Profit?”
That was a question I had asked myself many times since leaving California. Every day, with every relationship, there were times when you had to make the decision: my life, or my business? The truth was that everyone was the same. Business, or better yet,moneywas the only thing that mattered. Even when you thought you loved each other.
It was easier to accept that, once I made business my entire life.
“Why does this club matter to you?” I asked, putting a finger to my chin. “You seem too attached to a club that doubled as a sex-trafficking ring for years. Sellingyoufor sex.”
“It’s not a sex-trafficking ring,” she said. “Sex for pay is illegal in—”
“Cut the bullshit.” I motioned to the side. “I know exactly what goes on here. Dahlia told me the deal. The Adlers too.” Her jaw dropped at their name, the local mob. Yeah, I wasn’t stupid. I had my connections before I even considered buying here. “The servers’ debts have been cleared. I don’t want anything to do with indentured servitude.” I rubbed my forehead, then leaned back on the seat. Her eyes were wider than before; I didn’t think that was even possible. “Everyone is an independent contractor now. Twenty-five percent from the private rooms to the house. The rest is yours to keep.”
“Twenty-five percent? Don’t you think that’s a little high?”
I laughed. “Don’t be greedy. It’s less than Dahlia’s cut and lower than the strip clubs in the area. It’s fair.” Her shoulders dropped, and I raised a brow. “You look like I kicked your dog.” She grunted. “Isn’t that a good thing? You’re making real money now.”
“It’s good,” she mumbled, still looking at her lap. “I guess it’s good. But there’s so much changing. And it’s all happening too fast. Don’t you want to get to know the place before you come in here and ruin everything?”
She looked up at me then, with glassy eyes. Were they real emotions, or was she trying to persuade me through crocodile tears? I cocked my chin to the side.
“Ruin everything?” I asked. With my arm resting on the back of the seat, I rubbed her shoulder with my fingertips, her skin cold to my touch. “I’m not going to ruin everything.” I looked down into her eyes. “Just you.”
Her round eyes blinked up at me. A figure stopped a few yards in front of the table, the person’s gaze falling on us. I turned; the blond server from before, her icy glare pinned on Iris.
“You know her?” I asked.
“We go back,” Iris said.
“She doesn’t seem thrilled that we’re together.”
“She’s possessive over her customers.”
“I’m not a customer.”
“She doesn’t know that.”
