Chapter 16
Navy ‘Nay’ Prescott
Day Four
The automatic doors slid open just as I reached them, and the blast of cool air from inside the hospital hit my face for all of two seconds before the thick Miami humidity swallowed me again.
I adjusted the strap of my tote bag higher onto my shoulder while fishing my keys out of my scrub jacket pocket, trying not to think about the fact that I’d been inside that building for almost sixteen straight hours.
My feet ached, my lower back was screaming, and somewhere around hour thirteen I’d stopped pretending energy drinks were helping because they weren’t.
Every muscle in my body wanted a bed, a blanket, and absolute silence.
Instead, I had a strip club waiting on me. I unlocked my car, tossed my bag onto the passenger seat and climbed in, letting my forehead rest against the steering wheel before even starting the engine. “This can’t be my life.” I mumbled.
I’d only been doing this for four nights, yet it already felt like four months.
Every day had become the exact same routine.
Hospital, home, shower, change clothes, club, sleep for whatever little bit of time I could steal before dragging myself back to the hospital to do it all over again.
Somewhere in between, I’d squeezed in cake orders whenever I could because every dollar mattered now and since I was back advertising, the orders were coming.
The number of what I owed, that forty-three thousand followed me everywhere.
With the seven I still had leftover, plus the twelve thousand I’d made these last few nights including my cake orders, I would say I was on track and I managed to do it without having to actually open my legs or my mouth to anyone by the grace of God.
What I was learning was, for one, the corporate men were stressed the hell out.
Some of them wanted massages while they simply just talked to you about life.
Some of them wanted to watch you sway your body and touch all over you just for the thrill.
Others wanted you to sit on their laps and call them daddy while they talked about whatever they wanted, including how miserable they were with their lives.
It was a mixture of the cultures too, not only black men.
It seemed like as long as you were fine as hell and willing to listen, they were paying.
None of them ever knew that I was saving lives during the day.
I started the car and pulled out of the employee parking garage, merging into traffic while mentally calculating bills, deposits from the hospital, cash I’d made at the club, and the little bit coming in from custom cakes.
Every night I kept hoping the math would magically change but I knew it wasn’t.
Yesterday, I even received a surprise call from Lev, and it scared the shit out of me.
I knew he was making sure his presence was still strong.
I assured him that I was doing everything to come up with it.
Then I was ducking Rome and still talking to Marv every time he called.
He even showed up to the hospital this morning just to see me.
I would hate for him to think that I was brushing him off, I just really didn’t have time to engage like he would have liked.
It’s not like I could tell him that I was coming up with his money I stole.
By the time I made it home, I had exactly thirty-seven minutes before I needed to leave again.
The shower was barely long enough to wash the smell of antiseptic and hospital sanitizer off my skin.
I stood beneath the hot water until I caught myself closing my eyes for too long, forcing myself awake before I could actually fall asleep standing up.
I threw on one of the simple black dresses, touched up my makeup just enough to keep myself from looking like I’d worked a double shift, pulled my hair into a sleek ponytail that pulled my eyes back, grabbed my purse and was right back out the door.
My body hadn’t even recovered from work before I was clocking into another job.
When I pulled into the employee lot behind the club, the bass was already vibrating through the pavement.
The building looked alive as colored lights flashed against the side walls while foreign cars lined the front entrance.
I climbed out, adjusted my purse and walked toward the employee entrance.
The music hit me first and then the lights.
The inside looked exactly like it had every night I’d been there as purple and red lights swept across the room while money floated through the air every few seconds, landing across the stage before somebody hurried to gather it.
Men leaned back against leather booths with drinks in their hands while women laughed a little louder than necessary just selling the illusion pretending every conversation was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.
My eyes found Tasha almost immediately. She was halfway through her set, moving across the main stage like she’d been born under those lights.
Confidence rolled off her in a way I envied.
She caught the sight of me near the back entrance, gave me the smallest nod without breaking character, then spun back toward the crowd as another handful of bills rained over the stage.
I lifted my hand in a quick wave before slipping through the hallway leading toward the dressing rooms. Once I made it inside, I barely spoke to anyone because half of them were stuck up anyway.
I went to my locker and placed my things inside before changing in one of the stalls into a shimmering pink two-piece thong set that looked really good on my body.
I then slipped on the tall heels, placed a soft pink lipstick on my lips, and then sprayed my perfume on.
I was out of there as quickly as I’d slipped in stepping back onto the hallway.
The atmosphere changed the second the door closed behind me because the hallway was quieter, filled with perfume, hairspray and multiple conversations coming from in between the half-open doors.
I kept walking until I reached the VIP hallway, still rubbing at the stiffness in my neck standing in front of what I thought was room three.
That’s what the hostess had told me, except my exhausted brain walked right past the sign.
I pushed open the next door without paying attention.
“Oh, shit! I’m sorry.” The apology flew out quick.
A dancer looked over her shoulder with obvious annoyance while still on her knees between a man’s legs.
The older businessman barely acknowledged me, completely occupied with what was happening in front of him.
“My bad,” I muttered apologizing again, already pulling the door shut. “Wrong room.”
The embarrassment was all over my face as I backed into the hallway. “Get it together, Navy.” I told myself.
I rubbed both hands over my eyes, looked up at the room numbers again and immediately realized my mistake.
I needed to go one door down to room three.
I exhaled, opened the correct door and stepped inside.
Compared to the chaos outside, the room felt almost peaceful with a leather sectional wrapped around one side with the soft lighting glowing beneath the liquor shelves, and a bottle already sat in a bucket of ice on the table.
Whoever had reserved the room still hadn’t arrived.
Honestly, I was grateful. I slipped my heels off for just a second, digging my aching toes into the carpet before pouring myself one shot from the bottle already sitting out. “I deserve this.” I said to myself.
The liquor burned all the way down reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything.
I leaned back against the couch, reached into my purse and pulled out my phone.
Three missed notifications from the bakery page waited at the top of my screen: ‘Can you do a birthday cake for Saturday? I also need two dozen chocolate cupcakes. Are you still taking custom orders?’
For the first time all day, I felt something besides dread because it was cake money.
It wasn’t much, but it counted. I started typing a response, mentally figuring out whether I could bake after getting off work tomorrow morning, when another glance at the time made me realize my client was running late. I sighed, locked my phone and stood up.
I decided to run to the restroom while I had the chance.
The hallway outside was busier than before.
Waitresses hurried past carrying bottles with sparklers attached while security escorted another group toward the private rooms. I slipped into the restroom, splashed a little cool water across my wrists, checked that my lipstick was okay, and then headed back toward the VIP hallway.
I reached for the handle to the room and the door swung inward.
My whole body immediately froze. E’Levyn Laurent was already inside.
His eyes lifted from the phone in his hand, meeting mine with the same unreadable calmness that had haunted me every single day since he pressed a gun beneath my chin.
This time neither one of us spoke. For a second, neither one of us moved.
The hallway behind me disappeared but the music was still going, and every bit of exhaustion I’d been carrying from the hospital vanished beneath my panic.
My fingers were still wrapped around the door handle, and the first thing that crossed my mind wasn’t why he was sitting in my room.
It was that he had found me, once again. Just like he found me in that restroom.