Chapter 6—Payton #2
Tommy’s man steps in front of him and pulls a gun, aiming it at Joel’s head, stopping him dead in his tracks.
My breath catches in my throat. Panic radiates through my entire body.
If I were standing, I would have stumbled to the ground.
As it is, I’m unable to control the shivers that are racking my body just at the sight of the weapon.
I can barely look away from the gun, but movement catches my eye to the left as someone walks by, followed by a few more.
All men in suits. All men I’ve never seen before.
Soon the gun is blocked from my view by others standing around, but I know it’s still there.
I close my eyes and try to calm myself. I have to be smart about this.
The Leone family is not a good group. They might not have their guns on display, but I doubt the man next to Tommy is the only one packing. Tommy might have one on him himself.
He could even have had one last night. Although, I don’t remember feeling anything on him that was hard like a gun would be.
This is the first time I’ve seen one drawn on someone.
No, my anxiety isn’t because of what it looks like, but because I know what it can do.
And that’s a fear that I doubt will ever go away.
“Last chance, Joel. Leave now or leave in a body bag.” Tommy’s voice is devoid of any kindness. No one else speaks when he does.
The sound of wrestling has me opening my eyes more out of survival than anything else. If something happens, I want to at least see it coming, even if I can’t stop it.
But all I see is the bouncer being carried out, one man on each side holding him up by his elbows. I follow the movement for a second before looking back at Tommy. He doesn’t seem put off by any of it. There’s no emotion on his face at all.
Our eyes meet for a second before he looks away and addresses the crowd again. “The same goes for the rest of you. Leave. I’m only keeping the dancers and waitstaff.” There’s a pause as his words sink in. Then, with narrowed eyes, he adds, “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.”
Chairs scrape the ground as the rest who were just fired leave without looking back.
“For the waitstaff and performers, we’ll hold interviews to see if you’ll maintain your position. Do well and you stay. Fuck up and you’re out just like the others.”
“Have a seat, big boy, and I’ll do my interview right now,” Trixie says with a dramatic flourish of crossing and uncrossing her legs. I scrunch my face in disgust at what I’m sure Tommy is getting an eye full of.
He glances at her, but I don’t think he looked lower than her face, and a sense of relief floods my system.
No clue why. Not that I would be jealous if he did look at her.
I learned on day one not to get jealous.
Men are here to look at the girls, all of them.
If you’ve got eyes on a man who comes in here, then that man isn’t for you.
Our clientele isn’t looking for love, just a good time with anyone willing to take the cash.
I’ve only been here a few weeks, but I’ve already seen too many of the girls fight over a customer.
Ones they swear claim to want more than just to watch and promise a forever type of deal with them.
Even if Tommy isn’t the customer, he’s now my boss. And anyone with half a brain knows any thoughts of getting close to your boss is a bad idea.
Especially if the rumors about the Leone family are true.
“That won’t be necessary. I saw your act last night. I’m not sure there’s much else to see.”
I roll my lips inward to hide my smile. I doubt anyone has ever turned Trixie down in her entire life.
“I would prefer a conversation,” Tommy continues. “If that’s something you’re unable or unwilling to do, then I suggest you take your leave now.”
A few of the girls snicker at that, but the death glare Trixie sends their way shuts them up.
Tommy gives it a second longer before moving his attention off her and to the rest of us.
“This is your only warning. Interviews will not be swayed by money or looks.” He gives a pointed look at Trixie, who flips her hair and turns away as she crosses her legs again.
“The cuts we just made will not be the last. And if you think I can’t find someone to replace you, you’re dead wrong. I already have people flying in, begging for a chance to work for me. So before you think you’re irreplaceable, let me tell you now, you aren’t.”
An audible grumble takes over the crowd till Tommy raises his hand, settling the group.
“I have a cleaning crew coming in within the hour, and I want to give them enough time to do their job. While they’re doing that, I’ll be meeting with each of you.
Dante”—he gestures with a chin lift and a wave to the man beside him who had the gun pointed at Joel—“will be making the schedule. Get with him if there are issues.”
Tommy doesn’t wait for anyone to come to him, just pulls out his phone and starts talking on it.
While the rest of the group gather to talk to Dante or one another, I watch Tommy take a seat at one of the side bars that I’ve never seen someone man before.
I guess it gets opened if we ever reach full capacity, but it’s never been packed in here.
We get decent crowds, but I guess the Leone family doesn’t see it as enough. Not if they want to make changes.
I watch him unbutton his sleeves and roll them up as he rests his foot on the small railing around the bottom of the bar.
No idea why, but I find myself turned on by his movements.
And when he stretches over the bar and grabs a drink, straining his shirt across his lats and biceps?
Yeah, that’s something I might have another dream about.
But this time I wonder whether the fear or the desire will win out in the end.
“Name.”
I jump at the barked word and look up to see Dante staring at me. He has his phone out, so I guess he’s taking notes. Or playing Candy Crush. Who knows?
“Crown Jewel.”
I swear the look he gives me makes me feel three inches tall. “Real name, sweetheart. Not sure the background check will pull up much with that kind of alias.”
“Background check?” I squeak, my entire body tensing up.
He slowly raises his deep brown eyes to me. His face is all hard lines, but attractive like a model for an underwear commercial. The kind that makes you look at both the face and the package. Even if the face is harsh, there’s a certain beauty to it.
“That a problem?” His voice seems to have dropped an octave, and I swallow the quiver in my throat as I shake my head.
“No. Just surprised.”
“Boss doesn’t like those. Prefers to have all the cards.”
I nod because I’m not sure what else to say.
And he doesn’t add anything else as he takes me in for so long that I almost start sweating. Then a single eyebrow raise prompts me to answer his original question.
“Payton Coffman.”
He taps away on his phone and then moves on.
I let out a deep breath and look left only to jolt at the impact of clashing eyes with Tommy.
No phone to his ear. No bottle in his hand. Just him. Looking at me.
I’ve never felt more on display in this place than I do right now.