Page 18 of Devil's Debt

“Fucking asshole,” I mutter under my breath, and go back to my bike, the key in the ignition, the roar of the engine as it. I’ve got to get back to town and make sure she has everything she needs and is all settled in for the night.

Falcon is going to make sure it’s a difficult time for both of us, and I want to be ready for it.

8

Katy

“Fresh blood? Good to meet you. I’m Livvie.” The bartender, with her sleek ponytail of dark black hair setting off her golden skin, offers me her hand and a smile. She’s got matte brown lipstick on, and is wearing a tight white t-shirt under black suspenders clipped to black trousers. “Hade knows how to pick ‘em,” she says, eyeing me up and down. At least now I’m wearing a bra. Elenora, self-effacing and nearly invisible Elenora, returned an hour after I’d asked for help with underthings, with a bag with several plain but serviceable bras and underwear in my size. Only after I was properly clothed, and after having a lunch of leftovers from breakfast, did I feel comfortable going down into the actual club that Hadrion’s apartment sits on top of.

When I get downstairs, the club isn’t open yet, and won’t be open for several hours, although there’s already staff on site, starting to prepare things for the evening’s revels.

“I’m Katy,” I say, shaking her hand. Her nails are painted a glittery purple, and I’m instantly jealous. Mine are bare and short.

“So, this is the office where you’ll be handling business.” She gestures around the plain bare room that the stairs from Hadrion’s apartment have led me to. There’s a two desks, a large safe that’s cracked open, several computers, and paperwork stacked high. “This is where I do the alcohol orders. As the lead bartender, that’s my job, and where you run payroll, and coordinate anything that needs well, coordinating.” She gives me a smile. “I haven’t seen you around at any of the other clubs or bars. Are you from here?”

“Uh, sorta, but more... out on the edge of things,” I reply, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. It’d come loose from my braid, the only hairstyle I could manage right now without having a proper shower, which I would do before the club opened for the night. For now, it was enough that I managed to get the snarls out of my long brown waves, and braided it into a fat braid that slipped over my shoulder and hung past my chest.

“Oh yeah? Lowtown or something?”

I nod, and she shrugs and walks back around the desk. She picks up a thick stack of folders.

“Well, you’ll fit in. Most of our regulars are from Uptown or Downtown, but sometimes they want to slum it, and we let ‘em. Hade likes variety, and he doesn’t like the same things all the time. His club is members-only, but anyone can bring a guest, and he lets women in even if they’re not members, otherwise there’s no balance to things.” She starts filing the folders away and I watch her, perching on the edge of the other desk. There’s a sad looking little ivy plant, trying to reach the low window sil that looks onto the club floor, along with a container of paperclips, and some old newspapers. The plant looks so out of place, just like me. As much as Livvie says I’ll fit in, I doubt it, and I reach out to stroke a finger along one of the ivy’s littleleaves.

“So, since it’s your first night on the floor, you can float, and I’ll help you get the lay of the land,” Livvie says, and I jerk my hand back from the plant, looking back at her. She doesn’t notice me though, and shuts the filing cabinet with a sigh. “The main rule is that customers aren’t allowed to touch us. Other girls, the ones who willingly come inside? That’s on them. Security only gets involved if one of them clearly isn’t interested in whatever man is breathing down their necks. But the club girls? No. And I mean, you’re the manager, so, if they try to grab at you, you’re gonna need to be tough. You gotta know what the boundaries are. And if you’re not comfortable with a customer, then you tell them, and if they push or try to get handsy, you just holler, and the boys will come over and escort them out.”

She opens one of the desk drawers and pulls out a small cylinder for me.

“Bear spray,” she says flatly, an amused pull of her lips, despite the fact there are no bears anywhere near the city, or even Lowtown for that matter. I take it and tuck it into the pocket of my skirt. “Don’t be afraid to use it. It’s like having a fire-extinguisher in the kitchen.”

“Alright,” I nod, and she comes around the desk and gives my shoulder a friendly pat.

“You’ll be fine,” she says, reassuringly. “If you can deal with the riff-raff in Lowtown, you can deal with these people, trust me. They may be the rich and fabulous, but they’re just idiots who want to get drunk and grind up against someone hotter than they have a right to, at the end of the night. C’mon.”

I trail after her as we leave the small office, the door shutting behind us with a soft click.

The club has soaring ceilings around the bar, suspended cages hanging in mid-air.

“We put dancers up there weekend nights,” Livvie says, waving toward them. “They’re in there for only 45 minutes, before the cages lift up into the ceiling and they get a break.”

“There’s a room up there?” I ask, looking upward, my mouth dropping open. She gives me an odd look.

“Weren’t you up in Hade’s apartment? The main floor of that is below and to the side of the staff break room overhead.” She gestures toward something along one wall of the high ceiling, where it drops down nearly twelve feet. It’s a wall of glassy windows, smokey and impenetrable. “Those are the windows to Hade’s apartment, so he can watch things from up there. He’s a bit of a control freak, but he means well.” She shrugs and continues on to the bar. I follow her like a meek lamb, and I’m sure it’s painfully obvious that I’ve never been in a place like this before.

“You have a lot of clubs in Lowtown?” Livvie asks as we round the bar and she starts checking bottles and the fridges and coolers behind the counter.

“Not clubs. Two bars, and a pub, which I ran...” With my sister and father. I don’t really want to get into details.

“Yeesh. I heard it was backwater, but damn. Come count lemons with me.” She points to the heap of produce at the back of the bar, and I pull out a bowl of them, watching the club floor. There’s two staffers mopping, young men in all-black attire, and I realize the club goes way further back than I thought, glassyarchitectural structural ‘curtains’ separating the rest of the area from the bar space.

“What’s back there?”

“VIP rooms,” Livvie replies. “Hade has them set up for parties and the like. We have some regulars who are members, and they get a pass card that lets them use those rooms if they’re available.” She clears her throat. “You should... stay out of there, at least until everyone knows you’re Hadrion’s.”

“Hadrion’s?” My head jerks up, my cheeks burning. What does that mean? Livvie watches me carefully and doesn’t elaborate for a long, painful moment.

“Until they all know you’re untouchable, that’s all. As much as Hade doesn’t put up with bullshit from any patrons, me and the other girls? We don’t like giving anyone a reason to get kicked out. If we complained every time a guy got handsy, we wouldn’t have customers left. So we try not to give them an opening.”

“Oh.” I nod, and look down at the lemons, starting to count. Livvie sighs.

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