Gutter Princess

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Текст книги "Gutter Princess"

Автор книги: Kimmie Easley

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GUTTER PRINCESS

Kimmie Easley

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

GUTTER PRINCESS by Kimmie Easley

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Published by Swoon Romance

Cover designed by Kelly Walker

Gutter Princess is dedicated to the magical city ~ NOLA.

GUTTER PRINCESS

Kimmie Easley

Chapter One

Baby Jade

Baby Jade lingered behind the heavy velvet drapes waiting for her turn to take the stage. She leaned in to peek around the dark room, not surprised to find it almost empty. She hated working the day shift. The money was no more than scraps. The tips didn’t amount to a cheap bottle of wine. Prime time was Friday night. Payday for most of the New Orleans locals. Tuesday afternoon was always a bust. However, if she wanted to keep her shitty job, that meant taking the occasional day shifts. And like everything she did, Baby Jade gave it everything she had. Night or day, Tuesday or Friday, didn’t make a difference. It wasn’t in her strong personality to do things halfway. Her character was all she had going for her. One jackass in the audience or standing room only, they always got the full show. Baby had worked too hard to make a name for herself. Big deal if it was being known as the town’s most sought after exotic dancer. She wasn’t going to risk her reputation by being too lazy or sloppy, like some of the other girls in the business who couldn’t get their shit together. She had seen how pathetic strippers were these days. They settled for a mere few dollars in their G-strings. Their main goal was landing a Daddy Warbucks and doing whatever necessary to keep him. Not that Bottoms Up was the kind of place to attract sugar daddy clientele.

The club was a two-story nestled in between an adult novelty store and an old abandoned building that was once a hopping jazz club. It had a raised basement that the girls used as a dressing room. Stairs led up to the front of the club, which was a large open room lined with private dancing booths with half wall partitions. They were supposed to be for the dancers’ safety, but it ended up looking like shit. The red velvet chairs tucked around the round tables had wheels, as if the drunks needed any help falling flat on their asses. The stage was shaped like a triangle, with the point leading to the pole. Tiny stools lined the stage, aptly named pervert row. The DJ booth was nothing more than an ancient stereo system on blocks streaming to the dangling speakers. A small wooden bar was tucked toward the back of the room next to the hallway with the dank restrooms. The other side of the room held two rickety pool tables. The floor was chipped up cement, and half of the bulbs were out in the lighting system. Mirrors in need of cleaning lined the walls behind the lap dance booths. Men loved to get the full visual as the girls did their grinding and slithering, the closest thing some of them would ever get to having sex.

Coral’s music ended, and Baby Jade watched her pick up a couple of single bills from the floor while gathering the tiny pieces of her costume. One guy got up to leave as Coral made her way backstage, leaving two others bellied up to the catwalk. Baby got a bad feeling when she saw the way their eyes were already glazed over, and it only got worse when one of them threw his hand up signaling for another round. A perfect example of why she hated the day shift. It brought out a whole new level of drunks. Stingy drunks.

Mickey’s voice sneered through the speakers. “Gents, you are in for a rare treat. We don’t usually get the opportunity to see this fine piece of action during the day. Prepare yourselves for the sizzling wonder known as Baby Jade.” He cued up the first song on her playlist, “Digital Bath” by the Deftones.

Baby Jade sucked in a deep breath and slipped one of her long, dark legs through the velvet drapes. It wasn’t the part of the body they were hoping to see, but she had found out a long time ago that the teasing sometimes led to a bigger payoff.

With the build at its peak, she stepped through the curtains and sauntered down to the front of the stage. The music pulsed through her veins as her hips rolled to the beat before slipping to the floor on all fours. It was way too easy to drive these two drunks insane. They hadn’t shut up since stumbling into the club, but now their gazes were fixated on her every move. She slithered to the edge, holding the stare of the one she considered the least gross, hoping he had more dollars in his pocket than he had teeth in his head.

Music had always been important to Baby Jade. From a young age, it created an escape from the hell known as her childhood. Today she used the same approach while on the stage. It was like an out of body experience, allowing the music to take over and control her mind and body, making them one. She would surrender and follow, much like a survival tactic.

After all this time, her body had memorized all the moves. She hit her mark every time without missing a beat, clear down to the hair tossing.

You didn’t have hair like Baby Jade’s without using it to your advantage.

The long, thick waves extended all the way down her back. The jet-black hair helped to set off her natural caramel-colored skin. Both were a contrast to her mesmerizing green eyes, the tantalizing color of jade.

Allowing her hair to hang over the edge, Baby Jade rolled over and popped the front of her deep purple corset. She arched her back, pushing her chest out before slowly rolling onto her belly, letting her hair fall over her face. She lifted her backside, propped herself up on her knees, and starting swinging her long mane.

She knew she owned whatever crumpled up bills they had left in their pockets by the way the two drunks savored her every move. She leaned back, aiming her pelvis in their direction before rocking back onto her bottom. She worked her way up the pole and vowed to give the men a show they wouldn’t soon forget.

By the time the song was over, the men had dug into their dingy jeans and held handfuls of dollar bills. They threw a couple onto the stage trying to bait Baby into coming closer. She hated when customers did that, but it was all part of the song and dance.

Baby Jade dropped to the floor and crawled on all fours with the perfect combination of seduction and playfulness. There was no denying they were hot and bothered. She could probably get the title to their cars at this point, but by the looks of it, they wouldn’t be worth the pieces of paper they were printed on.

“Hi there, boys. Enjoy the show?” she asked in a soft growl. Men are such simpletons.

“Mmmhmm, you know how to get me all worked up, Baby Jade,” Snaggletooth said, reaching for her. Before she could respond, a loud voice boomed from across the room.

“No touching!” Mickey yelled. She knew all hell was going to break loose as she watched him stalk across the room.

“Dude, chill. She came up to us.” The lesser disgusting of the two waved his hands in the air.

“Can’t read the damn sign? No? Let me help you, DO NOT touch the girls.” Mickey pointed to the rules hanging on the wall, speaking to the men as if they were three-year-olds.

She had seen this shit play out way too many times. It never ended well for anyone. Baby Jade tried to intercept. “Guys, come on. Don’t get upset. Mickey, calm down. These nice fellas were letting me know they liked my show, right gentleman?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say. We’re outta here.” The two drunks stumbled toward the door but couldn’t make their escape before Mickey got in the last word.

“Don’t let me see your piss poor faces in here again!”

The heavy door creaked, filling the room with the midday sun.

“Dammit, Mickey! What the hell? You cost me a tip.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Baby. They didn’t have more than two dimes between ‘em. I don’t need that kind of riffraff in here. Stop letting them get close.” Mickey stepped toe to toe with her, and she smelled the stale beer roll off his hot, thick breath. He gave her the creeps. To say he was sleazy would be too generous, and the douchebag loved to push the boundaries with the girls.

Mickey was the owner and manager of Bottoms Up. He was in his early fifties and looked ten years older with a serious receding hairline. The few straggly strands of gray hair he had left were thin and greasy. He was close to six feet tall, but that didn’t do anything for his pot gut. His beady brown eyes appeared smaller due to a thick, heavy brow. His pudgy nose and spaced yellow teeth made her want to vomit. He was disgusting, and he ran the club the same way he ran his life. The place should have been shut down a long time ago. It was run down and dirty, breaking every code in the book. The worst part was the way Mickey treated the girls like his own property, for his pleasure or to share. He fed them liquor and anything else he could push down their throats to help limber them up. He had an endless supply of coke as long as he allowed his favorite dealer to write his own ticket at the club, which he did often.

Baby Jade didn’t want any part of it anymore and it pissed Mickey off. He made that loud and clear. Mickey still tried to buy her off, telling her she was one of his girls and he would treat her right. She could have all the free liquor she wanted, but Baby refused. It wasn’t that she didn’t drink, but she made sure to pay off her tab by the end of the month, never wanting to be in debt to Mickey again. Baby Jade promised herself she would never be put in that position again, knowing firsthand how he demanded payment.

Baby took a step back. “I can take care of myself. They were harmless. Let me handle my own business next time. That’s money out of my pocket, not yours.”

As she turned, Mickey slapped her on the backside. “What pockets?”

Instinct set in and she spun around on her heel and drew back.

Mickey seized her arm in mid-swing. “Don’t do it, bitch. You’ll be outta here and flat on your ass before you can give that sweet little thing two shakes.”

Mickey threatened her all the time; like he did all the dancers. She never knew if he’d actually go through with it or not since he was a ticking time bomb. Baby Jade was one of his best girls. She brought in the majority of his business. On the strip club circuit, she was considered a headliner.

She snatched her wrist from his grasp. “Go ahead, these dive joints are on every fucking corner in the city. I’ll be on another stage before the sun goes down.” Baby Jade stood firm, but it did nothing for her resolve to be standing there with her breasts hanging out.

“You don’t wanna threaten me, Baby. I will do it.” Mickey glared at her. “Get your sweet ass backstage and help clean house, and don’t give me any lip about it.” He stomped away before giving her a chance to challenge him any further.

Baby Jade rolled her eyes and grabbed her corset off the stage. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t going anywhere. As bad as things were at Bottoms Up, at least she knew what she was getting herself into, no surprises. If she left, it would mean starting all over again. There was always the possibility of having a boss far worse than Mickey. The stripping world was a dirty one. Some bosses didn’t wait for permission to do as they pleased, and they didn’t bother with the free booze and drugs to numb the pain. They got what they wanted other ways. And if things went too far, well, that explained the occasional dancer washing up in the lake.

Like it or not, Baby Jade was home.

The dank dressing room downstairs was more like a basement. It didn’t have windows. The dark room reeked with the nauseating smell that reminded her of a French whorehouse, mixed with cigarette smoke and sweat. Cheap tables piled with makeup and hair accessories lined the cement walls. Baby Jade got along with the other girls, for the most part. With any females, there were bound to be arguments and the expected territorial strut, but nothing too major. She could hold her own. Some of the girls were sweet, in a sad kind of way. Bottoms Up had a revolving door. Most of the girls came and went every few months looking for a brighter spotlight. At twenty-one, some of the girls had been known to look up to Baby. Assuming she was wise and she probably was compared to the others. Baby had definitely earned a lot of experience of the years.

Coral was sweeping the cement floor as Baby made her way down the concrete steps. She was a pretty redhead, with fair skin and hazel eyes. By far the shortest girl at the club, she stood less than five feet tall. This prompted her to wear six-inch heels everywhere she went. Baby ran into her at the laundry mat on their day off and was surprised to find Coral wearing a pair of booty shorts, a bright yellow halter top, and ruby-red studded stilettos. That girl certainly wouldn’t be winning a fashion award anytime soon. Regardless, she had been a welcome addition at Bottoms Up for the last four months, never causing any problems.

Baby Jade didn’t talk to Coral much. Not because she didn’t like the girl, but because she didn’t talk to anyone much.

“Hey, good set?” Coral asked Baby as she walked in and threw the crumpled up dollar bills in her bag.

“Could’ve been better. You know how it is on days.” No one liked working the day shift. The crew was spread thinner every time the club lost a girl, adding more day shifts.

“Yeah, it blows. It’s only Tuesday and I have another afternoon shift tomorrow. Hope Mickey gets someone else in here soon.”

“Me too. Where’s Lolli?” Baby scanned the room looking to see if the girl had been in yet.

Coral stopped sweeping and gave her a knowing look. “She took off with Slade. Mickey sent him down here while you were on stage.”

“Dammit, she’s too young to be on that shit.” Baby rubbed her temples with the palms of her hands. Slade was Mickey’s dealer and number one douchebag. Lolli was a sweet girl, too young to be in this line of work. Her paperwork said she was eighteen, but if Baby Jade had to bet, she was still a minor. Her young appearance worked in her favor, making her a huge hit in the club. Her beautiful skin hadn’t yet fallen prey to plastic surgery. Lolli’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement when the club was hopping. Baby Jade knew that sparkle. She had had it herself once. That’s how she knew it was bound to be snuffed out after a few encounters with Slade.

“Well, if it’s not THE Baby herself. I see you’ve graced us with your presence once again. What a treat it is to get to see Baby come out in the daylight.”

The words slurred with sarcasm.

Baby Jade knew who it was before she turned around. Jewella leaned against the fingerprint smudged bathroom door. The tiny vial in her hand and the way she rubbed her nose explained the tone. Her normal brown eyes were nothing but pupils, and heavy makeup was smeared across her bony cheeks. The short silk robe she wore fell off one pointy shoulder.

It was no secret that Jewella hated Baby Jade. She had made that clear from day one.

“You might wanna check a mirror. I think you need a little touch-up.” Baby Jade collected her street clothes from the bottom drawer. She had finished her last set for the day and wanted to be long gone before Slade showed back up.

“You’re such a smart-ass.” Jewella stumbled backward trying to cross her legs. “Does Mickey know you’re planning on ducking out?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I finished my shift. Unlike some people, I actually stay coherent long enough to do my job. Now I’m leaving. That’s how the world works. You should try it sometime,” Baby Jade snapped as she threw on a pair of shorts and an old AC/DC t-shirt.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Jewella snickered, too stoned to notice how loud she was talking.

Baby circled in time to see her walking up the stairwell. “Don’t do it, Jewella. I mean it,” she hollered, only to get a middle finger in response.

“Dammit!” Baby Jade shoved the rest of her stuff in a bag as fast as she could hoping to dodge the inevitable.

“I’m sorry, Baby. I didn’t know Jewella was in the bathroom. I thought she was sleeping it off in Mickey’s office.” Coral stood in the corner with the broom.

Baby Jade forgot she was in the room. Sometimes it was as if she blended right into the walls.

“It’s ok. I know it’s not your fault. I have to get outta here before …”

She stopped midsentence when she heard the familiar sound of boots stomping down the stairs.

“Baby, where the hell do you think you’re going?” Mickey challenged.

“I did my five sets for the day. I was supposed to be off already.” She snatched up her bag and headed toward the stairwell. Mickey moved to block the entrance, filling the doorway with his portly frame.

“I don’t give a shit if you did ten sets. You know you’re supposed to check with me before leaving.”

“And I would have let you know when I came back up, but that skank girlfriend of yours thought she’d rat me out first.”

Mickey’s back went rigid and he bowed up at Baby Jade’s insult. “Don’t talk about Jewella like that.”

Pop

Baby jumped and turned to see where the sound came from. She saw the broom on the floor as the bathroom door slammed shut and the lock clicked into place.

“Look what you did! You scared that little wimp Coral. She still has two sets left.”

“Whatever. Get outta my way, Mickey. I’m leaving.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “No. You’re not.”

“Yes, I am. What are you going to do? Tie me up and keep me locked up here in the basement?”

Baby Jade’s stomach somersaulted at the sight of Mickey’s lips twisting into a sly grin.

“Don’t tempt me, precious. You might find you enjoy it.”

The conversation was getting her nowhere. Baby Jade inhaled and tried to refocus, swallowing back the bitter bile collecting in her throat. “Mickey, what do you want? I’ve done my sets. I’ll be in tomorrow night.”

“Jewella’s sick. You’ll have to cover for her.”

Baby Jade tried to hide her giggling. “Sick? You mean she’s high as a fucking kite and can barely stand up, much less dance.”

“I told you not to talk about her like that. She’s gonna take a nap in my office. Now get your shit together, you’re on after Barbie.”

“Can’t you have one of the other girls do it?”

“I said you’re going to go do it, unless you’d rather I pull my pants down now and show you who gets on their knees quicker? Get your ass upstairs. You’re on in ten.”

He turned and marched back up the stairs. It was his way of letting her know he was in charge. He had said more than once how being defiant and always bucking the system was going to get her into trouble one day. He hated that she wasn’t a “team player,” as he called it.

Baby Jade slumped into the chair. She had forgotten that Coral was in the bathroom until the door opened.

“Baby? Do you want me to take the extra set?”

“No, hon. I’d better do it myself. If not, Mickey and Jewella will find another way to make my life hell. Thanks though.” Baby Jade pulled out a copy of DeLaine Roberts Two Sides of a Heartbeat to read while she waited. Books had become her closest friend. When she was a child, books and music were her only comfort. They helped her block out the rest of the world. Another means of survival.

“Shit, it’s dead out there.” Barbie stumbled down the steps, pulling Baby Jade out of her book and back to reality. She was notorious for having a few shots before her set. “I hear you’re covering for Jewella. Good luck with that. It’s tough dancing to an empty room.”

Barbie pretended to be tough but was harmless. Still, Baby Jade didn’t like to indulge in small talk. She didn’t trust her as far as she could throw her, and nothing she said to the girl was safe since she was Jewella’s little protégé. The pathetic way she panted around after Jewella, mimicking her every move, disgusted Baby.

“I guess she’s sick again.”

Coral rolled her eyes and laughed. “Funny, I had the same sickness last night. It’s probably Mickey’s way of sticking it to you. Ya know, since you won’t let him actually stick it to you.”

“I’m not touching that one,” Barbie chimed in.

“It’s not a big deal. I hoped to get outta here on time today, but I guess there’s always tomorrow.” Baby Jade didn’t say how she felt, never letting her guard down. There was no point in giving people extra ammunition.

“Yeah, keep tellin’ yourself that sugar.” Barbie taunted her before sitting down at her table and lighting a cigarette.

Baby Jade eyed the woman. They had spent a lot of time around each other over the last two years. Barbie was nineteen years old and as far as Baby Jade knew, had only worked at Bottoms Up, where Jewella quickly took her under her wing. Her bleached hair was teased and brittle beyond repair. She liked being known as the head platinum, every club had one. Her skin looked like leather that had been left out in the sun for years and was almost as dark as Baby Jade’s smooth, natural bronze skin. She practically lived in the tanning salon down the street. Acne scars covered her skin, which only led to her caking on layers of makeup trying to hide them. It reminded Baby of spackling a wall. To this day, she had never seen her wash off the mess; she only piled more on top. Fake lashes weighed down her once bright blue eyes. Her average height did nothing for her thin frame, a lot thinner than when she started two years ago. The horrible boob job she received as a present from her current sugar daddy made her look skinnier. Size DDs on a twenty-two inch waist was not the picture of a healthy self-esteem.

Baby may not like her, but it was easy to feel sorry for the girl. Hell, it was easy for her to feel sorry for pretty much everyone stuck in this nightmare.

“Baaaaaby, you’re up!” Jewella sang from the top of the stairs.

Everyone but Jewella. She would never feel sorry for that hateful bitch.

Baby Jade stood behind the heavy drapes for the sixth time that day. Her nerves were shot and her stomach was in knots. This was the point where she had to give in and let the music take over or she would be a hot mess and never make it through the next few minutes. The spotlights made it difficult to check the chairs lined up at the stage, otherwise known as pervert row. From what she could make out, they were all empty. As tough as it was to dance to an empty room, it was worse to dance for one person, Mickey. Other clubs didn’t make the girls dance when there weren’t any customers. It was pointless, but not here. Mickey was always up for a free show. His excuse was that he was paying them to shake their asses, not sit on them.

Jewella sat slumped up against the bar. Her skeletal hand gripped tightly around a glass of gin.

Coral stood at the DJ booth talking to Mickey and she was not smiling. Mickey rubbed his hand up and down her arm. Since she was still on shift, Coral was clad in nothing but a short lacy robe. Baby Jade knew she didn’t like Mickey or his hands, but Coral couldn’t bring herself to take a stand. Mickey had put his foot down one too many times and that was never a pretty scene. His hand slipped inside Coral’s robe and Baby watched her slink away, clearly pissing Mickey off. He said something that Baby couldn’t make out, and then Coral looked as if she were pleading, or maybe apologizing. She started crying and this time when Mickey ran his hand up the side of her robe, she didn’t move away. He gave a squeeze before pushing her away, using shame to put her in her place. Baby knew the look, having been there before, too many times to count.

Baby Jade heard the first few notes of “Psycho Killer” by Talking Heads. Mickey skipped her usual intro, confirming the place was empty. Not that it mattered; she would still give it her best performance.

With her eyes closed, Baby’s body moved in perfect unison with the music. Moving her hips to the beat, she turned her back to the bar and bent over to caress her slender, tan leg. Men loved to see women touch themselves in a sensual way. She may not make any tips without customers, but at least she got paid to practice.

A bright light flashed across the wall, but Baby never broke her focus. She dropped to the floor right on point, arching her back, and popping the corset before slipping out of her thong. She danced to the song for the umpteenth time but worked the stage as if it was her first. Her eyes remained closed to keep from seeing Mickey’s leering face. She made her final move, swinging her hair before folding herself into a crouched position on the floor, letting the mass of black waves fall to one side.

The song ended and Baby looked up before moving out of position. It had become a habit to keep up the seductive façade in case someone was there to tip. When Baby Jade finally allowed her eyes to adjust to the lights, she was shocked to find another pair locked on hers.

The stranger at the end of the bar stared at Baby Jade, sending a shiver from one end of her naked body to the other, leaving her completely exposed. His intense gaze was hot and appeared intentional.

He was gorgeous. His thick, dark hair looked like you could run your hands through it and get lost for hours. Dark eyes resembling deep pools of chocolate bore holes through her. The mystery man sported a heavy beard, but not thick enough to hide the dimples embedded in his flawless cheeks. He was tall and lean, wearing a pair of loose-fitting jeans and an old t-shirt. And if that wasn’t enough to make Baby wet between the legs, he was plastered with tattoos. Her weakness. They started at his wrists and disappeared under the sleeve of his black tee. The chain wallet and black Dr. Martens weren’t unusual, but she had a feeling he wasn’t a local. The notion only heightened his hotness in Baby Jade’s book.

The few seconds she spent drinking him in felt like an eternity. He didn’t break his trance when Jewella started circling, obviously catching a whiff of the new blood in the room. Baby Jade watched her try to perk up enough to lean across the bar, rubbing her hand over the man’s forearms. The brazen gesture broke the moment and he turned to look at Jewella. Baby picked up her clothing and headed toward the DJ booth to let Mickey know she was leaving but didn’t make it in time before Mickey noticed Jewella drooling over Mr. Tats and bolted to intervene.

Dammit. This place is like the damn Twilight Zone today.

The last thing she needed was to walk into the war zone known as “Jewella in heat, coupled with Mickey’s jealousy.”

Not that she had a choice. He would have a total shit fit if she left without telling him first. And she wasn’t waiting around to get the hell out of this place. Voices rocketed from across the room. She slipped back into her stage costume and stood off to the side, hoping to remain invisible.

“Look man, I didn’t do anything. The chick asked me for a light. I don’t smoke. I told her I didn’t have one.” Mr. Tats stepped back from the bar.

“That’s not what I saw.” Mickey’s not exactly known for being rational.

Of course, Mr. Tats wasn’t backing down. “She said she didn’t believe me and wanted to check for herself. When she touched me, I told her to back up. I’m not here for that shit. I don’t know what kind of place you run, but I’m here to speak to the manager.”

Jewella hopped off the stool and flung herself at Mickey. “I didn’t touch him, baby. You know better than that. You know I can’t help it that men are always throwing themselves at me.” Mickey pulled her in and rubbed her back, consoling her like a child.

He surveyed the tattooed man standing before him, sizing him up. “What do you wanna see the manager about?”

“I got into town a couple of weeks ago and I’ve been helping down at Rodney’s Garage. He doesn’t have much work to offer right now and said the manager here might need some help. Is he in or not?”

Mickey shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “Yeah, that’s me. I don’t know why he’d send you this way. Rodney’s a good enough guy, but I ain’t up for doing any special favors.”

“I’m not looking for a handout or a free ride. I’m not looking for any favors. Either you have a job or you don’t. I’m a hard worker and low maintenance. I only need something to tide me over until I scrape up enough to move on in a few weeks.”

Baby Jade didn’t know why, but the thought of Mr. Tats moving on in a few weeks didn’t settle well with her.

“What kind of work can you do?”

Mr. Tats shrugged his shoulders. “I can do what you need me to. I’ll clean, cook, schlep bar, whatever.”

Mickey didn’t say anything. He also didn’t seem to notice Baby Jade standing off to the side, but Mr. Tats did. He had caught her gaze over Mickey’s shoulder, once again burning holes right through her, reminding her that she was almost naked. Jewella, true to form, had already hopped back up on her stool and ordered another round.

“We don’t need another bartender. Got too many of those already. I can’t have you down in the dressing room with the girls. I can tell by looking at ya that would be a bad idea. Cleaning’s out.” Mickey’s gaze wandered around the room, settling on Jewella. She was still salivating over Mr. Tats. The pathetic woman was aiming for sexy, but instead came off like a hot mess. “I don’t think it’s gonna work out man.”

If only she could see herself, Baby Jade thought.

“Ahem.” Mr. Tats cleared his throat. “Rodney said to let you know if you couldn’t think of anything to keep me on, I was supposed to remind you about the cleanup job he did on the Range Rover a while back.”

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