expressionless as he stared Madeline up and down as she
walked inside.
“Nice outfit, Frosty.
What is it, a twisted take on a new BDSM role-play?” A grin split his face as
he rocked back on his Italian, hand-made boots and took another long look at
her.
“You’ll never know.”
Madeline deliberately refrained from making a big deal over the name she’d
earned for herself amongst both the staff and the clientele of the Club. She
knew it stemmed from her continued aloof attitude. This was work, which in her
eyes meant maintaining a professional façade at all times.
Besides, her feelings had
been well and truly locked away the day she discovered her prostitute mother
dead from an overdose on the floor of their trailer.
Orphaned at sixteen,
destitute, and with the role of mother to her four-year old half-brother thrust
upon her, she’d been desperate to avoid social services and the possibility of
being separated from her brother. They’d stayed off the radar with Madeline
taking any work she could get—washing dishes, working at truck stops, waiting
tables. They’d lived in squats at first, then graduated into a tiny bed-sitter
that remained their home for a couple of years until she’d landed the job at
the Club, thanks to Jet Mak. He’d taken a chance on employing a girl with
little experience, but Madeline hoped she’d made it up to him by working hard
and abiding by the Club’s rules.
With the irregular hours
and often late nights working at the Club and with her family commitments, she
had little time to spare for making friends. And certainly hadn’t actively
sought a long term relationship for herself. She’d learnt early on that guys
who professed an interest in her, were only after one thing; a quick fuck,
another notch on their bedpost. Just like all the men who’d walked so casually
and so damned callously in and out of her fragile mother’s life.
Just like all those other
guys, they certainly weren’t interested in anything more long term. Not when
they realized Madeline came with a brother.
Never, never would she
give her brother up and lose him in the system.
When the Club initially
opened its doors, she was one of the first to apply for employment. Fantastic
wages, tight security, and hours with a bit of wiggle room that allowed her to
play an active part in Matty’s life.
She took a firmer grip on
her duffle bag and went to brush past Harding.
“Hold on a sec, Frosty.
You’re to report to Roberta the moment you arrive.” He hesitated a beat before
adding, “Be careful, she’s up to something.”
“Thanks, Ezekiel. I
appreciate the warning.” She passed through the first door on the right that
housed the evening security office and climbed the stairs to the next floor,
thereby avoiding having to walk through the Club and maybe scare off any early
patrons with her manner of dress.
She kept going to the
third floor, where the room she normally used was located and where her
supervisor, Roberta Sangrini, had her office next to one of the owner’s suites.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked once on the door and without waiting for a
response entered.
Roberta sat behind a desk
working on what looked like the roster for the coming month. She didn’t look up
and pointed at a chair facing the desk.
Repressing her sigh,
Madeline sat as indicated, placing her duffle on her lap and hoping by doing
so, an argument about her clothes could be averted.
Apparently, not a chance.
“I saw you arrive on the
security screens.” Roberta leaned back and eyed Madeline coldly. “What the hell
do you think you’re doing coming to work dressed like some homeless whore.”
This woman was a total
bitch. Remember Matty’s school fees. Remember the rent. Remember the plan. “I
was running late. Anyway, it’s early. There shouldn’t be too many punters
here.”
“That’s beside the point.
You know the rules. The second you walk in the Club’s door, you become the
Club. You are a walking,
walked inside.
“Nice outfit, Frosty.
What is it, a twisted take on a new BDSM role-play?” A grin split his face as
he rocked back on his Italian, hand-made boots and took another long look at
her.
“You’ll never know.”
Madeline deliberately refrained from making a big deal over the name she’d
earned for herself amongst both the staff and the clientele of the Club. She
knew it stemmed from her continued aloof attitude. This was work, which in her
eyes meant maintaining a professional façade at all times.
Besides, her feelings had
been well and truly locked away the day she discovered her prostitute mother
dead from an overdose on the floor of their trailer.
Orphaned at sixteen,
destitute, and with the role of mother to her four-year old half-brother thrust
upon her, she’d been desperate to avoid social services and the possibility of
being separated from her brother. They’d stayed off the radar with Madeline
taking any work she could get—washing dishes, working at truck stops, waiting
tables. They’d lived in squats at first, then graduated into a tiny bed-sitter
that remained their home for a couple of years until she’d landed the job at
the Club, thanks to Jet Mak. He’d taken a chance on employing a girl with
little experience, but Madeline hoped she’d made it up to him by working hard
and abiding by the Club’s rules.
With the irregular hours
and often late nights working at the Club and with her family commitments, she
had little time to spare for making friends. And certainly hadn’t actively
sought a long term relationship for herself. She’d learnt early on that guys
who professed an interest in her, were only after one thing; a quick fuck,
another notch on their bedpost. Just like all the men who’d walked so casually
and so damned callously in and out of her fragile mother’s life.
Just like all those other
guys, they certainly weren’t interested in anything more long term. Not when
they realized Madeline came with a brother.
Never, never would she
give her brother up and lose him in the system.
When the Club initially
opened its doors, she was one of the first to apply for employment. Fantastic
wages, tight security, and hours with a bit of wiggle room that allowed her to
play an active part in Matty’s life.
She took a firmer grip on
her duffle bag and went to brush past Harding.
“Hold on a sec, Frosty.
You’re to report to Roberta the moment you arrive.” He hesitated a beat before
adding, “Be careful, she’s up to something.”
“Thanks, Ezekiel. I
appreciate the warning.” She passed through the first door on the right that
housed the evening security office and climbed the stairs to the next floor,
thereby avoiding having to walk through the Club and maybe scare off any early
patrons with her manner of dress.
She kept going to the
third floor, where the room she normally used was located and where her
supervisor, Roberta Sangrini, had her office next to one of the owner’s suites.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked once on the door and without waiting for a
response entered.
Roberta sat behind a desk
working on what looked like the roster for the coming month. She didn’t look up
and pointed at a chair facing the desk.
Repressing her sigh,
Madeline sat as indicated, placing her duffle on her lap and hoping by doing
so, an argument about her clothes could be averted.
Apparently, not a chance.
“I saw you arrive on the
security screens.” Roberta leaned back and eyed Madeline coldly. “What the hell
do you think you’re doing coming to work dressed like some homeless whore.”
This woman was a total
bitch. Remember Matty’s school fees. Remember the rent. Remember the plan. “I
was running late. Anyway, it’s early. There shouldn’t be too many punters
here.”
“That’s beside the point.
You know the rules. The second you walk in the Club’s door, you become the
Club. You are a walking,
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