Page 7 of The Grand Duel

And apparently, Edna has had too much champagne.

I stare at her, at the card, done myself and ready to go home. But I’m not sure what that word even means anymore. Because the idea of knocking on my parents’ door and telling them that I’ve lost my job, my apartment, and that I need them…

It’s been three years since my sister and I packed up and moved out. Since they told us what a burden a child can be to a couple of kids.

“It’ll make me feel better knowing this wasn’t a complete waste of your time,” Edna adds.

I’d love to say I took the card and tucked it into my pocket to make Edna feel a little better, but that would be a lie.

TWO

Lissie

If you told me The Nightingale was a place people came to get their freak on, I wouldn’t believe you. Maybe that’s because I had a very different perception of how this place would look.

I prejudged it.

From the people who come here, who might well be exactly how I envision them—it’s only six o’clock, so it’s practically empty—to the immaculate dark green and gold regal furnishings that decorate the multi-levelled club.

It’s nice.

Expensive.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi,” I say as I turn, the champagne making my head spin a little.

I find a man at my back, his bleached-blond buzz cut, sharp cheekbones, and nose rings in both nostrils making him look striking. He smiles at me in a way that tells me he knows it, too.

I smile back at him.

“Can I help you?” he repeats.

“Yes, you can actually. I was wondering if the manager of the club is around. Bronwyn, isn’t it?”

His full lips twist into a very different smile. “Close enough.” The man looks impressed with that tidbit of information—which I noted on the back of the card that Edna gave me. “I didn’t know Bron had anything booked in this afternoon.”

“She doesn’t.” I cringe at my lack of professionalism. I step closer. “I’ll be honest, my only plan here is to show up and corner the woman. In the nicest ‘I’m not a complete stalker’ kind of way.”

His brows dip thoughtfully. “You’re looking for a job?” he says, figuring me out.

“I’m looking for a job,” I confirm. I look him up and down, admiring how well-groomed the man is. “Do you know if there are any positions available at the moment?”

He chuckles, drawing my eyes up. “I can think of plenty of positions?—”

“In the bar.” I thumb over my shoulder, immediately shutting him down. “Just in the bar.”

His eyes narrow on me, only the ghost of his smile tainting his mouth now. “A shame,” he murmurs. “Who sent you?”

Who sent me?

“The card. Who gave you the card.”

Shit. How does he know about the card? I can’t throw Edna under the bus… “That’s not something I feel comfortable sharing with you.”

His brows lift, his demeanour changing slightly. And then he nods in approval. “Alright, Shoes.” He points past me. “Down those stairs. Bronwyn is the door on the right at the very end of the corridor.”

I rear back. “Shoes?”