Working Girl

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Edited by: Ryn Hughes of Delphi Rose

Cover by: Robin Harper of Wicked By Design

Proofread by: KMS Editing

Interior Formatting by: Kassi Cooper of Kassi’s Kandids Formatting

I’VE NEVER REALLY SEEN
the moon in all of its unadulterated glory. Never been any place dark enough for me to truly appreciate its beauty. The lights of Las Vegas dull its brilliance, just as the glitz and glamor distract the people that visit.

Booze.

Wild women.

Gambling.

Violence.

You name it, we have it.

Growing up in Sin City is anything short of exciting. Every day brings some sort of drama and madness to my life. In the same sense, Las Vegas is stifling, but not in the traditional sense that one might consider. The prison it has become has nothing to do with the oppressive heat and everything to do with the showcase that it promises. The facade. The riches that never come. The hopes and dreams that end where the strip begins.

And even though the lights shine bright, the city slowly kills me, dulling not only me, but the people around me. Someday I hope to be able to see the stars and the moon with a clarity I’ve never had.

But for now, it’s only the artificial light that I see.

I HATE NIGHTTIME,
but for some reason all the memories I’ve ever had have taken place at night. Maybe it’s because I’m actually a vampire? Just kidding, but there are times when I think being a vampire would be more socially acceptable.
What’s with nights?
you may ask. Well, for as long as I can remember I’ve spent my nights in a back room with an endless string of different girls, my nose stuck in a book, headphones pressed to my ears in a vain attempt to drown out the sounds of ecstasy while Mommy dearest earns a buck. At least it’s a “legitimate” brothel, and not one of those slums you see on TV.

Sure I’ve grown up at the school of hard knocks, but that doesn’t mean that I have to belittle myself. I keep my nose to the grindstone, determined to make more of my life than the “family” that surrounds me. There has never been a day where I didn’t have a goal. Certain of the direction I want my life to head in, I know that this life I’ve been given isn’t it for me.

In an attempt to quiet my racing thoughts, I pull out a book and flip to the page I dog-eared earlier in the day, allowing myself to get lost between the pages. The longer I read, the more lost I become, until eventually I just don’t feel anymore.

“Yo, Presley.” I nearly jump out of my skin hearing the knock on my window.

Looking up from my book, I let out an exasperated sigh. It was just getting to the good part. Boy was about to tell girl that he loved her. No matter how many times I read a love scene, they still make me happy. Full of hope.

“Hey, Ruby.” Folding the corner of the page to mark my place, I place my book on the desk and head to the window. “Whatcha got?”

“Got a nice looking one,
finally
. I feel like it’s been weeks!” She slides the card through the window and I force a smile. See, this is what makes it legitimate. The ability to run credit card transactions. It almost makes me forget what is going on throughout the rest of the building. “Ring him up for the works. No hard limits for me tonight.” She’s buzzing and I can practically hear the excitement in her voice. Ruby seriously loves her job, but she always gets a little overzealous when she has a customer who is even the slightest bit attractive.

I steal a glance at the security camera in the negotiating room she’d booked out earlier and I’m unimpressed by the guy propped up on the couch. Too muscly for my taste. I don’t dig juice-heads. Their egos usually match their exterior; too big for their britches. My fingers dance across the keyboard as I quickly type up the invoice and run his card. My job might be monotonous, but it helps out just enough so that I’m able to afford the classes I so desperately need to get out of dodge.

Once the printer spits out the paperwork, I slide it out to Ruby. “Make sure he signs.” I reach up and grab the key to her room. “Slide the papers back through on your way to the r—”

She gives me a flick of her wrist, grabbing the envelope through the slot. “I know, I know. You’re so damn thorough.” Giggling, she sashays back into the negotiation room, closing the door behind her. I can’t help but shake my head as I plop back into my seat and kick my feet up on the desk, immediately grabbing my book and attempting to lose myself in another world.

My solace is short-lived as the office door flies open, her words hitting my ears before I even register her presence. “I just don’t get it.”

I roll my eyes, breaking my gaze from the magical words that I so desperately want to read, and look into the icy blue eyes of my best—no, correction—my
only
friend, Chrissy. Growing up, making friends proved to be a challenge for both of us. It wasn’t easy to organize play dates when you lived in the slums, oh and then there was the chance your mother might suck off someone’s daddy. “Get what?” I ask with a slight annoyance.

She collapses into the chair on the other side of my desk and moans. Her blonde hair cascades her oval face perfectly, her crystal blue eyes dancing as she looks at me, and I feel sad. Such a waste of beauty.

“I don’t understand why you’re in here, making next to nothing, while being bored off your ass, reading another dumb book, when you could be out there getting your kicks while making twice as much money.” She runs her fingers through her perfectly coifed ‘just had sex’ hair and sighs.

Chrissy just turned twenty-one, like me. The only difference between us: she decided to follow in her momma’s footsteps. “You know why I work this room. It’s the only way Big Earl will let Momma keep her job. Besides, Chris, I already told you. I’m not gonna have sex for money.”

“You act like its some big deal.”

“Well, it is,” I argue. “Just because it’s all we’ve ever known, doesn’t mean it’s all we can do.”

She fidgets in her seat before finally leaning back. “I don’t get it. Because I just had the best Joe
ever
. I’m pretty sure I orgasmed from my toes.”

Cue my holier than thou rant. “See, therein lies the problem. Did you say best sex ever? No. You said Joe. He was a client, a nobody you can’t even name. There were no feelings. He stuck his itty bitty penis in you, you felt a tickle and you act like it’s the best thing since sliced bread.”

Chrissy puts her hands up. “Calm down, girl. Just trying to bring you over to the dark side.” She laughs before lighting a cigarette and placing it between her lips. “You read too many damn romance novels.”

I shake my head. My reading isn’t the problem. The life I’d been born into is. “So when do you get off?” I question and immediately I want to take my words back because I know what’s coming.

“I already did.”

Bingo.

Giggles fill the room, and I can’t help but smile. Resting my face in my palm, I stifle the laughter. “Jesus, you’re ridiculous.”

“No, but seriously, I just got off.” She takes a drag and I give her a pointed look. “My shift just ended, whore. Whata ’bout you?”

“I’ve got the desk until 2 a.m.”

“Suckfest.”

“Keep me company?” I plead.

“What’s in it for me?” she asks, even though she knows damn well what’s in it for her.