Page 81 of The Grand Duel
I round the chair and sit down. “Why would anyone do that?”
She stares at me.
“What if I want to work the rooms? He can’t stop me surely?”
When Bronwyn stays mute, I sigh and drop my head back, sinking in the chair.What’s happening? Why would he…
“What if I need the extra cash?” I won’t, but?—
“Lissie, it’s four nights on the rooms plus tips for six months. You could quit on the spot and make more money than any of the other girls will make in a year.”
I slowly lift my head. “What did you just say?”
“Twenty-five thousand a week for twenty-six weeks.”
I feel the blood drain from my face, a cold sweat creeping over my body. “I-I… That’s…”
“Six hundred and fifty thousand pounds. Over six months.”
“Six hundred and fifty thousand pounds? What the fuck is wrong with him? Who has that kind of money to spend on sex—no, not sex. Who…who has that kind of money to spend on not having sex?”
I sit back in the chair, perplexed.
“Look, Lissie, I asked many of the same questions. The fact of the matter is the guy is one of my best and long-standing customers, and when faced with an ultimatum—keep you out of the rooms or lose his business—it was a very easy decision tomake. You wanted bar work, and you have it. Once I figure out how I navigate the money, I’ll let you know. Now, who told you?”
Shit. “I…forgot.”
Bronwyn stares me down.
“Why would he do that?” I ask again. “What did he say?”
“I don’t remember,” she says, going back to her work.
A lie for a lie.
“He’s not been back in.”
“No.”
“But he will?”
She narrows her eyes on me. “Will it be a problem for you if he does, Lissie?”
I shake my head. “No. Of course not. I just?—”
She holds up her hand, her eyes closing. “I know.” She sighs. “I shouldn’t have let you work the rooms that night. Our girls, as you now know, go through briefing, multiple interviews…It isn’t your fault, and you’ve done nothing wrong. In fact, you’ve…you’ve surprised me.” She nods as if letting the realisation sink in. “I’m not sure you even know what you’ve done.”
What does that mean? She said I’ve not done anything wrong.
“It’s not the first time this has happened, but it’s been a very long time. We’ll go with it. You’ll get paid. Maybe it will all blow over, and one day you’ll be able to work the rooms again.”
“And if it doesn’t blow over? What’s the other side of this?”
She smirks, but it holds warmth, a memory. “A new pair of shoes.”
Money. That’s what she means. “I’m over the shoes.” I wave her off.
She shakes her head as if I’ve not understood her joke. “Don’t worry about this, okay. You’re great on the bar. I need you to stick with it. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”