Play It Safe

Oh God!

“How did this happen?” I asked.

“Mirry’s not growin’ younger through the years,” she snapped like I should know that which I should but honestly, no offense to Grandma Miriam but she was seventy when I met her over seven years ago. I was kind of surprised she was still alive.

Janie continued, “Got to the point Gray couldn’t take care of her, his uncles are all ass**les, his cousins proved to be too so he had to put her in a home. He’s self-employed, got no insurance and he’s Gray. He didn’t put her in a shithole. He put her in the best place in the county. Had a bad crop of peaches last year, the bills from the home, a bad year with crops, shit happens.”

“This is awful,” I whispered.

“Well…yeah,” she snapped again like someone would say, “No duh”.

“So, what about his uncles, his cousins, can they help?”

“Did I not mention they’re ass**les?” she asked.

“Yes, I know that Janie, but this is their family’s land. It’s been in that family for six generations,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, well, ‘bout twelve years ago, Gray’s Daddy died and they wanted their bit. They didn’t get it. Seems that left a sour taste in their mouth so they’re not feelin’ like steppin’ up. So they’re not.”

Those ass**les!

I controlled my bizarre flash of temper because, really, this had nothing to do with me (anymore) and asked, “I…uh…how much does he need?”

“You kickin’ in?”

My back went straight and I repeated. “How much does he need?”

“Are you kickin’ in?” she repeated too.

“Yes,” I said instantly and I had absolutely no clue why.

“Right, I’ll get Shim or Roan to find out what they can find out. I’ll call you back.”

“I don’t want him to know it’s coming from me,” I said quickly.

“Well…yeah.” There it was again, the “No duh.”

“Janie,” I said softly, “I’m helping out.”

“You know, it took a lot for me to make this call, way you cleared out on Gray, way you cleared out on me. So, I appreciate it and all that you aren’t a total bitch and are gonna help out but don’t think you doin’ it means anyone’s gonna kiss your ass.”

I wasn’t breathing.

Therefore I had to force out, “The way I cleared out on Gray?”

“Yeah, one minute, he’s at home takin’ shit from Mirry because he told her you were movin’ in, the next minute, I’m callin’ him because you didn’t show up for your shift. The next thing we know, people saw you take off with that brother of yours. Then the next thing we know, rumors are pool hustlers are on the game in Grand Junction. You tried, I’ll give you that, gave it a go. Too bad you couldn’t manage not to walk all over Gray while you were doin’ it. I could find another girl. Lot harder for him to do it.”

Even though my heart was beating like a sledgehammer against the wall of my chest, my blood pressure was also skyrocketing.

“Actually, it wasn’t hard, seeing as when I came back three months later to explain, I saw him cuddling on the street with a pretty little brunette so, please, I know you’re tight with Gray and you think he’s one step down from God, but don’t bullshit me.”

“What?” she whispered.

“I think you heard me. And also, I’ve never been to Grand Junction except to drive through it. The last game of pool I hustled was before I went to Mustang. I haven’t taken a dollar from the game since Buddy Sharp and I didn’t hustle him. So if people were trash talking me after I left, they can go f**k themselves. And as for you and Gray believing it, the same goes for you. Now, although this catch up phone call has been a barrel of laughs, I’ve got flowers to water. Call me when you know how much he needs and I’ll get it to you. Take care of yourself, Janie.”

Then I beeped the phone off and threw it on the chair.

Then I deep breathed and I did it for a long time.

Then Lash walked in and asked, “Who was it, babe?”

I looked to my fake boyfriend, smiled bright and lied, “Nobody.”

Then I walked out of our fabulous living room through our fabulous French doors to our fabulous flower bedecked cool deck around our fabulous pool and I grabbed the hose and recommenced watering.

Chapter Twenty-One

Artillery

Two days later…

I was at the club, sitting at the way back around the corner of the bar, three stools next to me empty, Brutus standing against the wall guarding me.

Unfortunately, he needed to do this. I hadn’t danced for long and I hadn’t danced in a while but still, Rue the burlesque dancer was Vegas legend.

And I worked the house.

This meant I hired, fired, scheduled and managed the waitresses, the bartenders, the bar and the floor.

Part of me managing the floor was getting tricked out every night, putting on amazing dresses that exposed a fair amount of flesh (in a classy way, I thought, and so did Lash considering he chose and bought all my dresses for me), high-heeled, f**k-me shoes and expensive jewelry. Often, I wandered the floor smiling, touching men’s arms, shoulders, hands, leaning down and brushing their knees or the outside of their thighs with my fingertips all the while inspecting their tables and the state of their drinks. If they were half done, I’d give the high sign to a scantily clad waitress and convince them with a practiced, come-hither smile that even though they were only halfway done with their drink, they needed another one.

I sold a tremendous amount of booze. Lash told me that within a month of me taking over the floor, the bar’s turnover doubled.

This was why he paid me a shitload and kept me in amazing dresses, shoes and jewelry. This and the fact that the waitresses and bartenders worked his nerves, they were always screwing each other then getting in fights, breaking up and taking that shit to work. When I took that off his shoulders, he was beside himself.

This was also because he adored me.

So I was visible. You paid your money, there was a chance you’d still see Rue. She wouldn’t be dancing on the stage in high heels with fans but it was better. She would be working the crowd and she might come close, you might see those bedroom eyes, that hair and that smile right in front of you and, if you were lucky, she might touch you.

Men were pretty stupid on the whole, I thought. Dropping that kind of money to see women dance nearly na**d (that said, Lash’s girls were the shit, no one in Vegas was better than them and even I had to admit there was an immense sensual beauty to it) and getting wound up because some woman touched your thigh and bent over so you could look down her cle**age.