“What, why?”
“If he’s willing to drop a grand on me, he might pay two for both of us.”
“Kenzie, come on—”
“Hollywood.” Her expression turns grave. “I got fired from the bar two nights ago.”
My stomach seizes. “What for?”
“My boss’s wife accused me of stealing tips.”
I don’t have to ask her if she did it; Kenzie and I have lifted our share of food and clothes over the years, but she would never steal from her co-workers.
“Her husband wants to fuck me,” Kenzie says. “I wouldn’t even touch him with her pussy, but that’s beside the point. She wants me out, so I’m out.”
“What a bitch.” I squeeze my best friend’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Steph was there when it happened. That’s why she invited me here tonight. Because she knows I need this. That we need this. At least come meet him, then decide how you feel.”
I already know I don’t want to fuck this random geezer, no matter how loaded he is. But if Kenzie got fired, then she and I are fucked either way. Our landlord doesn’t take IOUs, and while my sweat equity keeps our rent borderline reasonable, it’s Kenzie’s money that feeds us.
I think back to our early days, right after we left the foster home. The nights we took turns sleeping on benches, how we’d wash ourselves in fast-food restaurant bathrooms. Then, later, when Kenzie would fuck guys just so we could stay in their apartments. I remember lying on an old threadbare couch. Kenzie coming out of a guy’s bedroom after he’d sweated and grunted over her for two hours.
How she broke down crying, I can’t keep doing this, Hollywood...
I promised her she wouldn’t have to. That I would take care of us.
The next day, I powered through my anxiety, determined to find a job. The motel was the last place I tried, but Doreen smelled my desperation and knew she could use it to her advantage. I got Kenzie out of that guy’s apartment and into our own place.
I took care of us.
An idea comes to me. How much would Jack pay me to sleep with him? I whirl around to find his gaze, but the chair where we were both sitting is now empty. I scan the room, but don’t see him anywhere.
He’s gone. We’re on our own, but what else is new?
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll meet him.”
She kisses the back of my hands. “Thank you.”
I follow Kenzie through the party into the den where a set of French doors stand open.
“He’s outside?” I ask warily.
“Steph told me to meet her by the pool house.”
We step out into the night. The air smells of fresh-cut grass and chlorine. We make the short trek to the pool house where a tall woman with blonde hair waits beside a black SUV. She looks up from her phone.
“Hey, Steph,” Kenzie says. “This is my friend, Mia. The one I told you about.”
Steph has one of those smiles that probably still looks fake even when she’s being sincere. “Glad to see you live up to your description.”
“I told Steph you were a knockout,” Kenzie whispers.
A slim, stern-looking, bald man climbs out of the driver’s seat. He’s dressed in black jeans and a black leather jacket, and though it’s eighty-five degrees out, when he looks at us, my skin breaks out in goose bumps.
“Just her,” the man says, pointing to Kenzie.
“Is that him?” I ask softly.
Kenzie shakes her head. “I don’t know—”
“The client’s house is a short drive from here,” Steph says.
“Oh...but you didn’t say anything about leaving the party.” Kenzie’s voice cracks on the word leaving.
I tighten my grip around Kenzie’s hand. This is beyond fucked up.
“Some gentlemen prefer to enjoy themselves somewhere a bit more private,” Steph says. “You’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
The bald man opens one of the SUV’s rear doors. The darkness inside yawns like a mouth about to swallow Kenzie whole.
“I don’t like this,” I whisper to her.
“Hollywood, it’s going to be fine.” There’s a glint of unease in her gaze when she turns to look at me. “I’ll go do this and meet you back here later. Right, Steph?”
Steph nods. “It shouldn’t take long.”
“Kenzie, please.” I refuse to let go of her hand. “I don’t think you should go.”
“I know you’re nervous,” Kenzie says. “Just grab a glass of champagne and park yourself in a chair. Let them come to you.”
I am scared. But the fear isn’t for me. “No, Kenzie—”
“I’m doing this for us,” she says.
“And I’m begging you not to.”
“I don’t have a choice,” she says through clenched teeth. She’s right. She knows this isn’t the smartest idea, but she’s been taking these kind of risks for years. It’s how we’ve survived. “I’ll be back, I promise.”
Her hand slips through my stiff fingers. The smile she flashes over her shoulder at me doesn’t reach her eyes. She ducks inside the SUV, and the driver shuts the door.