7
3 months later
Somehow, I had always known that I had been broken.
I couldn’t even eat strawberry jelly for Christ’s sake. The colour red reminded me of the splatter on the wall after Pop shot himself in the mouth and covered the walls of our home with his brain.
We'd been a happy family until then. With a tire swing on the tree and a dog called Bruno who used to steal Mama's panties from the hamper.
Mama used to smile a lot back then, but when she was sad, her frowns were always directed at Pop. In the last few months before he killed himself, Pop couldn’t look at me and I had no idea why.
I'd like to think that I had been whole before he'd died and that it was standing in front of him as he cried and stuck a pistol in his mouth was what broke me, but it wasn’t.
How much I enjoyed my new life told me just what kind of person I was.
I'd managed to procure an apartment five blocks away from the Pink Sleeve, in a place that didn’t ask for paperwork. Only cash on the first of the month.
I couldn’t open a bank account, but I’d learnt my lesson when Mama had taken my money and I’d shelled out on a safe.
Drug dealers hung around on the front steps, and the main lock on the entrance was broken; but, the inside of my little home was all mine.
I didn’t have to clean up used condoms or worry that my food would disappear from my fridge.
I was a waitress at a strip joint. Whilst I thought that serving drinks in my underwear was rock bottom, it wasn’t. My boss, Julian, was fiercely protective of his girls and no one could touch us. Bouncers hovered whilst I worked and I hadn’t felt threatened once.
I made enough money, now that I wasn’t subsiding Mama, to eat three square meals a day. The first few times I’d eaten enough to make me vomit.
Strangely enough, I felt pride every time my belly was full.
It had only been a few months but eating every day meant that my boobs were bigger and I could fill out a pair of jeans. Superficial, but I drank in the male attention that I’d never had before.
The music was slow and rhythmic, a promise of what to expect when the dancers came on stage. The patrons were few and far between because the sun had only just set but there were a few bachelor parties booked for later in the evening.
I stocked up the flyers on each of the tables and wiped them down. Each of the tables was bathed in a purple light, but a button rested in the centre of each of the circles that changed the colour of the light to pink. It was a nifty way to inform the servers that the table needed something, although it was still my job to make the rounds and ask.
I saw him at the bar, hunched over and slinging bourbon like it was going out of fashion. His short raven hair looked like he'd been running his hands through it all day. Or someone else had.
It had been three months since I’d seen Elliot Gold.
And he'd never known my name.
It was just as well, because men like that didn’t settle down with minimum wage. And even if they did, I’d be labelled a Gold digger for the rest of my life.
I didn’t want that.
With a round tray in my hands, I leaned on the edge of the bar with a round tray in my hands, Missy as she whipped up another tumbler of liquor for the thundercloud in a thousand dollar suit.
“You look sad.” The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them.
Elliot held up a finger for another drink and Missy managed to shoot me daggers at my lack of verbal filter before turning around to get out the top shelf liquor.
“I am fucking sad.” He growled.
“You’re in the right place.” I gave him a conspiracial wink. “Boobs always make people happy.” I gestured at the club around us.
Missy slid his drink over to him. I looked at the napkin that she's put down as a coaster. Her name was written in black Sharpie with her phone number. Madam Grumpy was trying to get herself some. I couldn’t begrudge her for that. He was hot, even though it looked like someone had pissed in his Cheerios.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned to the curvy bartender. “Two makers marks and a G&T, please?” I asked her. Missy always looked like she was sucking a lemon, and rarely spoke unless it was to put someone down.
Despite that, I liked her. She was hardened and had a story to tell. Not that I was brave enough to ask her.
Elliot drained his tumbler and screwed up the napkin with her phone number on and dumped it into the glass. “Can you get my brother?” He asked me. I nodded as Missy slid my drinks tray over the bar and I disappeared to find Julian.
Elliot Gold waited until I had distributed my drinks order and followed on my heels as I led him to Julian’s office in the backroom. The fact that Elliot did not know where his office was meant that he didn’t come to the Pink Sleeve often.
That thought made me stomach glow.
I was unable to make conversation around Elliot. He was a silent man on a mission and I did not even register on his scale.
Part of me. The Cinderella fairy-tale—pie in the sky girl, thought that he would sweep in with my flamingo mask in hand and whisk me away. Proclaiming us to be soulmates and telling me that he couldn’t live without me.
The man did not even recognise me.
I knocked on the door and led Elliot through. My smile was tight as I stepped away. He grunted his thanks and turned away without a how do you do. I didn’t even warrant his attention.
I'd gained the favour of one of the Gold brothers for a night but I was only worthy when I had been wearing a designer gown and spreading my legs.
I should have known.
I chuckled at the knowledge that Elliot Gold had fucked minimum wage. Something he was so clearly against. I ignored the pang of my broken heart, and told myself that I had gotten one over on the infamous Iceman.
Even though I had just experienced his cold shoulder.
Julian called through to the bar about an hour after Elliot had disappeared into his office. The strip club was in full swing, with dancers on the poles and dollars in G-Strings. The scent of sweat and perfume was comforting. Different from my life before.
I balanced the tray in my hands. A bottle of Glenfiddich Blue and two glasses. One with ice (for Julian) and one without (for Elliot).
I knocked on the door and turned to my side to push the door open without the use of my hands. Julian leaned across and held it open for me.
“Harry, can you make sure the private room is booked out next Thursday?” Julian asked kindly as he took the tray from my hands.
“Yessir.” I winked.
“Are you sure you want your bachelor party here?” Elliot rubbed his face.
My mouth must have popped open in shock, because Julian laughed and after he out the tray down on his desk, used his index finger to close my mouth.
“I’ve kept my engagement a secret, Elliot.” Julian turned to his brother, his voice held a razor’s edge.
Elliot shrugged from where he was sprawled on the loveseat in the corner. “It’s not my fault you want the best of both worlds. You hear that, honey?” He glanced at me. “Your boss is engaged. Stop with the doe-eyes.”
Something stabbed at my heart and I reached behind me with shaking hands to unlatch the door so I could escape.
The rest of my shift was uneventful. Except for one regular who grabbed my ass and gripped it hard enough to leave a bruise. He was spotted immediately and thrown out.
Julian and Elliot stayed tucked away in the office. It wasn’t until I came back from the staff bathroom that I heard voices coming from Julian's office.
I didn’t want to listen, but some morbid part of me wanted to know more about their lives.
I couldn’t imagine the Golds having the same kind of issues that plagued us mere mortals. Elliot had looked like he wanted to pound whiskey until his problems disappeared. The masochist in me wanted to know what those problems were.
“So, you're back in Goldryn Bois?” Julian's voice was hard to make out through the thick wooden door.
“It’s been in the works for months.” Elliot replied.
“It has nothing to do with...”
“Fuck. Julian, I can’t.”
“I can’t believe Sarah Mallory managed to catch you.” Julian said in awe.
The sound of a glass smashing made me jump but I was careful not to make a sound.
“What the fuck do I do, Jules?” Elliot's voice was muffled by something.
“She's married.” Julian said. “There’s something you're not telling me.”
“This wasn’t my plan.” Elliot sounded broken and I didn’t blame him. My heart felt like it had been ripped in two the second that Sarah Mallory had gotten her claws into him.
That was prime gossip. Rina would love to hear it. I touched my face, it was flushed. I felt hot as hell and cold as the Arctic in one second flat. My stomach churned in jealousy even though I had no claim to the man.
“What did you PI say?” Julian asked.
“Not much.” Elliot laughed without humour.
“Are you sure you want to get involved with someone right now?” Julian asked.
“I did. Before Sarah dropped this load of shit in my lap.”
My fist clenched and my nails dug into the palm of my hand. I took a step back on unsteady ankles and began to walk back to the floor. I didn’t want to hear anymore.
Life was cruel that way.
It gave you just enough to have hope before it ripped it all away.
Tito, one of the bouncers at the Pink Sleeve, walked me out and ensured that I got into a cab safely.
It was a short journey to my shoebox apartment, but I didn’t want to risk walking.
I paid the cab driver and stepped out into the warm night air. It was mid-Fall but the Summer heat still clung onto Louisiana like an over protective mama bear.
I had just pulled my keys out of my handbag when I saw him in the corridor outside of the door to my apartment.
The lights were on timers, because my landlord was a cheapskate, so I didn’t recognise him at first.
My heart gave a little jump and my lungs felt like they were full of ecstatic bees when my brain entertained the idea that Elliot Gold was on my front doorstep.
Life wasn’t that fair though.
It was Daniel Davis. The man to whom my Mama owed money.
He had found me.