“Drink?” Cassie asks, wiping down the bar.
“No thanks,” I say. “Heading off now.”
“There’s an apartment in Angel I wanna go check out,” Ella adds, excited, while leaning across the bar with her elbows, eyes ablaze.
“You renting?” Cassie asks.
Ella nods. “I need my own place,” she says.
“You live with your mama?”
“And my sister.”
“This is good for you, yes?” Cassie smiles. “More independence. More fun.”
“More commitment,” I jeer, knowing Ella will need to make rent every month.
Cassie gives me a look. “Commitment is good. It requires focus. Determination.”
Yeah, and a dependency on you and this place, Runner says.
I take a wad of tissue from my pocket and wipe a spot on the bar close to Ella’s elbow.
“Missed a bit,” I say, staring at Cassie.
She ignores me. “Tell you what,” she says, leaning over the bar and squeezing Ella’s shoulder, “I’ll buy you a new sofa. A bed. Or a fridge. Whatever you want.”
“Really?” Ella glows, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Really.”
Don’t let her do it, Runner warns. She can’t be trusted.
Or believed, Oneiroi adds.
But she’ll need somewhere to sit, Dolly whispers, won’t she?
Shhh, this is for grown-ups, Runners says. Now go play.
“That’s so sweet,” I intervene, squeezing Ella’s hand three times, “but—”
“I insist!” Cassie says, her eyes locking first onto mine, then Ella’s.
“Thank you.” Ella shines.
More payoffs, Oneiroi laments.
Hearing sounds of laughter, I look behind me. Two familiar girls I remember from back at the Groom House goofing around on the nickel pole. One of them attempts a yogini, then box splits.
How come you know what those moves are called? Oneiroi asks.
I stare at Ella.
Right, sorry. I forgot.
Ella spins around on her stool, cups her hand around her mouth. “Those moves are too advanced for you!” she calls.
One of the girls gives Ella the finger.
“Don’t get fresh with me!” Ella warns, suddenly on her feet.
“They don’t know what you’re saying,” Cassie says, “they’re stupid.”
“Maybe you should teach them English, or send them to school,” I say.
“Pfft. Waste of time. And money.”
“Or maybe it suits you that way,” I add, “them being stupid.”
Ella turns back to face us. “Anyway,” she says, cutting short my vex, “about the apartment. Do you think you could give me a reference? You know, for the landlord?”
Cassie keeps her gaze fixed on me, my face. No blinking.
“Sure I can. I like to look after all our girls,” she says, aiming her comment at me. “It builds trust. And I can trust you, can’t I?”
“Of course,” I say, my palms turning damp.
“Because I’d hate to think there was a bad influence in here at the club. Or back at the house.”
“What do you mean?” Ella asks.
Cassie sips her vodka, her eyes still pinned on me. “Well, I’d be disappointed to find it’s just an act, that you’re really here to cause trouble.”
“What? Me?” I ask.
“You’re privy to a lot of information. A lot of information.”
I let go of Ella’s hand, resting both palms on the bar to steady my nerve.
She’s onto you, be careful, Oneiroi warns.
“What’s your point?” I speak, an attempt to appear casual.
“Shaun said you don’t approve of what we do here, or what we do back at the house. He said you thought it was wrong.”
Little snitch, wait til—
“Shaun?” Ella interrupts. “Shaun can’t be trusted. He was hanging out with Annabelle while she was working at that other club—even though Navid said none of us were meant to see her. Did you know that, Cassie?”
“How do you know this?” she snaps.
“Amy told me. They’ve been hanging out together, all three of them.”
Cassie pauses, leans in closer. “Navid trusts him.”
“Well, he would. He’s a man!” I dismiss.
She lets out a cackle. “This is true,” she says, lightness suddenly found in her voice. “But your mistake was thinking you were the only one.”
“He said I was,” I spit.
“He lied.”
“Exactly!” I say, slapping the bar. “So what makes you think he’s telling you the truth about me not approving of what you do? Have I ever given you cause to think otherwise, Cassie? Anything at all? It hurts to think you don’t trust me, considering our paths and where we both come from. Like you said, we were neighbors. Like family. But instead you chose to believe some white boy.”
Cassie pauses, stares at us both, and it’s all I can do not to run. She waits, watching to see if we flinch, or stir. Trails her manicured hand through her alabaster-streaked hair.
“I believe you,” she says, “but why would he lie?”
“Because he’s moved on,” Ella answers. “Because he’s a dick.”
Cassie snickers. “To Amy,” she says.
“Exactly,” I say, staring her straight in the eye.
“Drink?” she asks.
I pause.
“Why not? There’s no rush, right?” I say, turning to Ella.
Ella smiles. “Vodka. On the rocks.”
“Good girl,” Cassie says. “Then you can be on your way. Go check out that new apartment of yours.”
I hear the two girls behind me laughing, then suddenly a thud.
“Zhùshôu!” Cassie shouts.
Runner takes out a Lucky Strike, her Zippo. Watch yourself, she says. Cassie; she’s the smartest person in this joint.