There was no such thing as time in Las Vegas. Not inside the casinos anyway. No clocks. No windows in the gaming rooms. No way of knowing whether it was night or day. Then even went as far as pumping oxygen in to keep the gamblers alert and awake. If you didn’t know the time, how could you know you’d spent ten or twelve or even twenty-four hours at the tables or pumping money into the slot machines?
The game was to keep people gambling, which, Soothe had explained to Kristin, was why casino security and women like them were enemies.
They tolerated selling sex because that was part of the city’s appeal. For instance, said Soothe, they would never embarrass a John if he was with them. But if you stepped on to the casino floor and they caught you soliciting for business, then watch out.
That was where they were now. On the casino floor. Kristin with her fake id that gave her age as a wildly improbable twenty one, and Soothe watching everyone around them, explaining to Kristin who a likely customer was and who wasn’t.
“See that guy over there,” said Soothe, pointing out a balding, middle aged white guy in a sport coat.
“Yes,” said Kristin.
“He keeps looking over. Next time he does, you look back. Don’t break eye contact. He’ll come over.”
“Okay,” said Kristin, watching him as she stirred her straw around her orange juice.
That was the other rule of being a carpet ho, Soothe had told her. No drinking on the job, and definitely a hundred percent, no getting high. That would get you kicked out faster than anything.
He looked again. Kristin stared back at him.
This was way tougher than being out on the track, she thought to herself. The track was straightforward. If a guy was in his car on the track and he had his window down, then he was either a John or a cop. Here, on the carpet, there were other men, a lot of them not looking to buy sex.
On the other hand, Soothe had explained, the rewards were higher. A girl could charge a lot more for a guy she met here. Soothe wasn’t exactly sure why that was. Maybe it was something to do with the fact that the carpet hoes looked better, they were on point. A girl with meth-rotten teeth who was stumbling all over the place wouldn’t last two seconds on a casino floor.
Kristin was just glad that Soothe was here and what had happened back in LA had been forgotten. By now Soothe was like a big sister to her. She could be tough on Kristin, but she told Kristin it was for her own good and Kristin was starting to believe that.
The guy looked back over at them. Kristin looked back.
“Okay, that’s good, plenty of eye contact, don’t look away,” Soothe coached.
The guy was starting to come over.
“Okay, you’re on your own now, girl,” said Soothe, stepping off to a nearby craps table and leaving Kristin standing by herself.
“Hey, how are you?” the guy said to Kristin.
“I’m good,” said Kristin. “You looking for a date?”
The guy smiled. He moved the bottom of his sport coat to one side, revealing a laminated plastic casino ID badge.
“Okay, let’s see some identification. Let me guess, you’re twenty one, right?”
Kristin froze, a rabbit in the headlights.
“I didn’t do anything,” she stuttered.
“Sure, you didn’t. What are you like, sixteen?”
From nowhere, she felt a hand on her arm. She jumped, expecting it to be attached to a security guard, or worse, a cop.
“We were just leaving,” said Soothe, guiding Kristin gently away from the guy.
He stepped in front of them.
“I haven’t finished speaking to her yet,” said the casino security guy.
“You ain’t a cop, and we’re leaving, okay?” said Soothe, her face set like granite.
It was the same look she gave Kristin when Kristin had messed up or she needed her to do something.
“I don’t want to see either of you in here again. Understand me?” said the security guy as he stepped out of their way.
Soothe guided Kristin past him and across the floor. Kristin’s heart was still racing. Being arrested was one of the cardinal sins of being a carpet ho.
A few minutes later they were back out on the street.
“Ain’t no thing,” said Soothe.
“I thought you’d be mad,” said Kristin.
“You got to be less direct, girl. Let them ask you if you want to date.”
“I’m sorry.”
Soothe looked her up and down. “Don’t be sorry, get it right.”
Soothe’s phone chimed with an incoming text. She checked it. Her face clouded a little. She didn’t say what it was or who it was from, and Kristin knew better than to ask.
“Come on,” said Soothe. “We better go make some money. Hanger gets back here and we ain’t got no cash to show him then you and me are both going to be in trouble.”
Kristin didn’t need that part decoded for her. Trouble meant a beating.