Hidden in the night II

"Okay," I whispered, after allowing the first logical thoughts to enter my mind. "So what's the guy like?" I forced myself to breathe, suppressing the anxiety inside me. Maybe my suspicion was unfounded. How could they have found me here, in this place? Maybe it was just a patron whose lodge I had served before. But a VIP? I hoped this feeling was baseless.

"I don't know. Like everyone other guy who could buy one of these VIP boxes. Filthy rich. Arrogant. Overbearing. He seemed a bit fed up," Lola purred. "Well, the only thing that distinguishes him from all the other fat, white, old and rich men is that he is young and handsome. In fact, he isn't one of those typical. Definitely too good looking. Ah... and he is alone. One of your admirers we don't know about yet? I am quite envious, mon poussin."

"I swear, I don't have any suitors!" I grumbled.

Gently, she slipped her hand under my chin, lifting it slightly. "You don't have to blush right away. If you didn't apply your make-up so heavily, you would have much more suitors," she chuckled nonchalantly.

Whereupon the color ignited my face. My cheeks gleamed like fiery red headlights.

"Sweet!"

"What are you doing? Proposing marriage?" Andre looked at us amused, while he mixed his cocktails behind the bar.

"No, just a declaration of love. We should all try to get more love or sugar daddy. Life would be so much easier."

"I hope you'd concentrate more on your work instead of starting a war with Paul's courtesans."

"As if there was a lack of men here. Why are they so stingy?"

"Ma poule, just stick to Paul's rules."

"I want to live easier, like Lulu."

"Please don't!"

"What about her?", my eyes fell at the ginger-haired girl dancing across the stage. Wearing her corset out of white pearls, as she presented herself. Every movement as sensual as a poem. Heating up the mood with a single glance. I didn't understand. She looked like someone, who was born for the limelight.

"She was once one of us."

"So? I thought anyone could try? And with a little luck..."

"Ha! Lulu Baboo and talent? A hint, it wasn't her dancing talent at all."

"Not everyone is as ruthless and stubborn as Lulu, dearest Lola," Andre winked. "My dear barmaids please continue to maintain your composure. I don't want any trouble."

"Sure boss!" I grinned. Even I wasn't tired enough of life to start a liaison with a gangster. The biggest turn-off was those grim faces. Money could not outweigh that. With my luck I would end up with cement shoes at the bottom of the river. No, no! I rather served them their drinks.

"But a rich husband, though, I'd like that."

I just tilted my head and stared at Lola with my mouth open. "You'd really hook up with one of these greasy guys?"

"If he puts the wedding ring on my finger and hands over his trust fund. Then maybe."

"The wealthy are only marrying people who are well-off as well! They only choose someone like us as a temporary source of pleasure. You should be careful not to burn yourself. In the end, you'll end up alone with a child and no money," Elodie placed her tray almost silently on the counter. "I need two Bloody Mary's, a bottle of Hennessy Paradis, an Irish coffee and three Black Russians for box nine."

"Don't worry, we won't suffer your fate," Lola beamed sweetly.

"I hope so," whispered Elodie tiredly before she pushed back one of the honey-colored strands behind her ear. "Lily shall I accompany you. After all, lodge four is within my area. You know some of these men don't take no for an answer." With skillful movements she was smoothing out the last wrinkles on her uniform.

I nodded timidly knowing exactly what she meant. Whatever, the reality was much crueler. If one of the customers really had his eye on one of us, nobody would help her. Those on the VIP floor had one motto, the customer is king. Whether a girl wanted or not didn't matter at all. These men paid to be entertained.

The la beauté noire was a dangerous place but also a good place to hide. No one posed questions as long as you perfectly executed your job. Moreover, a mass of money could be earned in a few hours. The girls who danced on stage or devoted their time to customers knew that they could earn a five digit sum in one evening. We Barmaids could earn several hundred notes in a single evening. This allowed me to live my life as NEET to the fullest. One day working, six chilling out. Okay, by now I was working three days a week and relaxing only four. But if I was going to drag myself through this life, why not enjoy it. I never wanted to be under constant stress like I was in the past!

I had reached the bottom of the society, but at least I was still alive. Living comfortably!

Actually, this was the only place where I could work without being discovered. I was safe here until my 25th birthday. At least I hoped so.

"He ordered Jin on ice and a bottle of Dom Perignon," Lola muttered and pulled my tray away. "I'll take care of that. Table seventeen and twenty-two, right?"

I let go of the tray, sulking. "A Jin on ice and a bottle of Dom Perignon," I repeated and took the empty tray from Lola.

"Just a moment," Andre whispered, mixing the last cocktail which ended up on my former tray.

"I wanna know every detail, mon poussin."

"Sure." I shouted. My gaze still lingered on Lola's back. Until I dragged it away watching Andre mixing cocktails one by one, like a machine.

Bored, I leaned over the counter to grab some slice of candied lemon. Instantly earning a sharp glance of the talented Bartender. I grind, automatically, knowing I'm looking like a squirrel. Sweet with puffy cheeks - who could still be angry at me! I am so damn cute.

"Mon poussin! Will you ever learn there is no room for those fingers behind the bar," Andre shook his head.

My smile kept growing.

"You are forgiven, but I won't tolerate that much longer, mon poussin," Andre whispered as he handed over another slice. Without hesitation, I grabbed it.

Sighing, Elodie reached out with a white napkin, almost tenderly wiping the sugar crumbs off my lips, while she moved with motherly patience. I was well aware that thanks to this incredibly stunningly cute face, my co-workers were treating me like a queen.

But Elodie, the true queen of this world, melted away more and more with each passing day. She looked so tired, exhausted. Life as a single mother wasn't easy. That's for sure. But the terrible clichéd past of a proper MC wasn't entirely unrelated at her state of mind. Hell, anyone who wouldn't end up in a mental hospital after that wasn't sane either. It simply didn't make sense at all.