THE BIG MOVE (Miami Hearts Book 2) (3 page)

             
“You’re not going to fuck us out of this money, bitch,”
the next message read, ominous and very nearly immediate.
“There is no wiggle room. You wiggle, and he dies.”

              There was another photo of Antonio, his nose apparently spouting fresh blood. My breath hiccupped into a sob. I didn’t want this. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I was hurting him because I was trying to be honest. Should I lie? Or would that be even more harmful?

             
“You will get the money, I swear it,”
I typed, tears blurring the display on the phone. I sent the message, formulating the next in my head.
“It will only take time. I am poor here, just as I was in Honduras.”
I sent that one, chewing at my lip, waiting for a reply. Would they understand that, or were they under the impression that I had arrived in America and instantly become rich? I could take a photo of my tiny apartment to prove my poverty to them, if need be.

             
“We will be keeping track of every penny you send,”
the next text read.
“Don’t do anything stupid. Stupid things cause bruises. Really stupid things cause blood.”

             
“I will make sure to send everything as soon as I can,”
I said.
“I’ll send money every day.”

              The next text was simply a number, a place to wire the ransom in question. That was how I knew I’d succeeded in securing an installment plan with the gang for my boyfriend’s life.

 

Chapter 3

 

I remembered when Faith had worked hard at the club, struggling to afford the tuition to send her little brother to a better school. She’d achieved what she set out to do, and she’d told me I could do anything, too. Sure, maybe if I’d been in the country legally, had papers to prove that I had a right to work here, maybe I really could do anything.

              But right now, I was stuck at the club. That was unkind, though. Parker had been good to me, giving me a chance to work hard, to earn a living, when others had only seen the status of me being in this country.

              Life might’ve been against me, but at least I had my job to give me what I needed.

              I showed up at the club right as Parker was fumbling with the keys to open the door. I had no idea she was the one who got everything started in the morning. She was also the one who stayed late every night, settling the registers while the club got cleaned out, and locking the doors on her way out. I’d been there that late, but I’d never been at the club this early.

              “Hi, Parker,” I said as cheerfully as I could. Cheerful wasn’t really in my arsenal of emotions and masks lately, but I did my best.

              “What are you doing here so early?” she asked, checking her phone for confirmation of the time even though she was never late to anything. “You know we don’t officially open for another hour.”

              “I was hoping I could talk to you about that,” I said, picking at my fingernails with anxiety. “I needed to try and pick up some more shifts right now.”

              “You know I welcome anyone who wants to work hard,” Parker said. “But, again, we’re not going to get any customers until after eleven. Nobody comes here this early.”

              “I know,” I said quickly. “But I was also wondering if maybe you could add me to the setup and cleaning crew. I’d be more than happy to come early and get all the tables ready for the customers, and I’d be more than happy to stay late and clean up with everyone.”

              Parker eyed me critically, in a way that made me believe she could see right through me. “Are you doing all right, Sol?”

              “Fine, just fine,” I lied, grinning. “I just need to earn some extra money. I’m trying to save more.”

              Parker softened a little. “Building a safety net is important,” she acknowledged. “Are you saving for anything specific? A house? A new car? Going to college?”

              “I guess just in general,” I answered, wishing I had thought out my plan a little better. Of course Parker would ask questions about why I wanted to be there. She was that kind of boss — always concerned with her business, but even more concerned that her employees were doing well. She was special in that way, even if she could come off as a little abrasive. She truly cared about what was going on in our lives. She might pretend it was so she could ensure we were the best we could be for the clients, but I suspected that she really wanted the best for us.

              “General savings is good, too,” Parker allowed, throwing open the doors to the club. The bright morning sun illuminated the dim interior of the club, where all the chairs were stacked on the various tables to allow for vacuuming and sweeping. “You never know what you might need the money for, and anything can happen at any time. Accidents, sicknesses, injuries. That’s what your saving account is for. Emergencies.”

              The situation with Antonio was most certainly an emergency. I felt a little bit better that I wouldn’t have to lie as thoroughly to Parker. She was the one who’d named the reason I was here, trying to earn more money.

              “Yes, emergencies,” I agreed. “I want to always be prepared for anything.”

              Even if “anything” was my boyfriend being held for ransom by a notoriously violent Honduran gang.

              “I’ll put you on setup and cleaning crew,” Parker said. “You’ll earn overtime for whatever you work beyond forty hours.”

              I winced. In the past, Parker had been against overtime, especially when it harmed her coffers.

              “It’s fine,” she said, patting me briefly on the arm as she read my facial expression. “Honestly, Faith was the one who was always straining the limits of overtime. Now that she’s not working here anymore, we have some wiggle room.”

              I had the rare opportunity to see regret flit across Parker’s face. My boss was fair and treated all of us dancers equally, but she’d always had a special place in her heart for Faith. Faith had been one of her top earners, after all — a reason for customers to want to visit the club. I missed Faith, too, but because she was my friend who I got to see every single day. Going to the barbecue had been wonderful, but it just reminded me that it wouldn’t be as simple anymore to spend time with her.

              “The thing is, Sol,” Parker said, interrupting my thoughts, “I don’t want you getting burned out.”

              “Oh, I won’t!” I exclaimed, but she wagged her finger, making me fall silent.

              “It’s easy to say that you won’t get burned out,” she said. “But if you’re really going to be working twelve hours or more a day, you’re going to get tired. I’m all for you earning the money for your savings, but not at the cost of the quality of your performance.”

              “You really don’t have to worry,” I assured her. “I get plenty of sleep. I don’t really do anything outside of work. I’ll come here every day ready to do the best job I possibly can.”

              Parker stared at me with an emotion I had trouble naming until I was finally surprised to put a name to it: pity.

              “What do you mean that you don’t do anything outside of work?” she asked. “That’s not good, Sol. That wears on a person.”

              I laughed, awkward and uncomfortable. “I just want to really dedicate myself to the job. I don’t want any distractions.”

              That didn’t satisfy her. “But people need some kind of outlet outside of their professional lives. Or else why even bother earning the money? What would it be for if not to enjoy with the people you love?”

              I swallowed. I didn’t want to talk about Antonio right now. It would make me cry, undoubtedly, and then Parker would be concerned about giving me all the extra hours. I needed that money. I needed it desperately.

              “You know, maybe I was trying to sound a little too eager,” I said. “It completely slipped my mind that I was at a barbecue with Faith and all of her friends just the other day.”

              “Oh, really?” Parker came as close to a genuine smile as I’d ever seen her do. “How’s everyone?”

              Trust Faith to get me out of yet another jam. I jabbered on about how cute Faith and Adam were together, how tall Luke was getting, and how close Faith was with her neighbor and roommate. Could I use that social group to my advantage, too? I needed to prove to Parker that I wasn’t a machine, and that I was wanting to earn this extra money for reasons that would make sense to her, that wouldn’t make me sound completely insane. If Parker thought the things going on in my life might bring her trouble, she might not want me to work here at all. It would be so difficult to get another job — this one had been hard enough to find as it was.

              “So, of course I do stuff other than work,” I said. “I get to spend time with Faith and her friends are my friends, too. I just — I hope you don’t mind me saying — I don’t want to work here for the rest of my life. I’m trying to save money, so I can have something to fall back on if — in the very far away future — I decided to do something different.”

              Parker laughed, a throaty, friendly sound, as she threw her head back.

              “Sol, no one does this job forever — not even me. It’s impossible. This is just one step forward on the way to different things. I understand perfectly. I just don’t want you to exhaust yourself, that’s all.”

              Relieved that my bluff had worked, I followed Parker around the club as she told me about what would be required of me. Other members of the setup crew flitted in as Parker spoke. It wouldn’t be strenuous work, but it would force me to keep both earlier and later hours. Even that was something of a blessing. I really hoped that I could just get back to my apartment after my shift and go straight to bed without worrying what was happening to Antonio or wondering whether I’d even ever see him again.

              I helped the other members of the crew take down the chairs, buff the tables, and get everything else ready as Parker went to check the sound system and DJ equipment. She preferred to do all the announcing herself from the booth during the shift, but if it got really busy, she’d call for backup so she could circulate around the floor, anticipating the needs of everyone — from the guys who just come in off the streets on a whim to a very rich VIP clientele she’d developed herself. She had a very careful system, and it really paid off. This was one of the most popular clubs in all of Miami.

              When it got close to eleven, I departed from the setup crew to get ready. Dancers were already packing the dressing room, wriggling into costumes and pursing their lips in front of the mirror to apply just the right amount of lipstick to their pouts.

              “You running late, honey?” one of them called to me, seeing my hurried dash to rinse off in the shower.

              “No, I was just helping the setup crew,” I called back over my shoulder, rushing to fling off my sweaty clothes so I could get cooled down and fresh before customers started arriving.

              “Setup crew?” the dancer repeated, clearly confused. “Why doesn’t she just escort more if she needs money?”

              I turned the shower spray on, and the patter of water against tile drowned out her words mercifully. I’d never escorted. It felt too close to being unfaithful to Antonio, and I’d never do that — not for any amount of money. I paused, considering that point that had always been so clear in my head. I remembered Faith’s first night of escorting, how she’d earned thousands of dollars — enough to secure tuition to the school she wanted to send her brother.

              If I could be guaranteed the money to pay Antonio’s ransom, would I escort? Would I be unfaithful to him to save him? Just what was our love worth to me? Would I give up all of my principles to be reunited with my love again?

              Would he even want to be with me if he ever discovered the lengths I went through to make it possible?

              I shuddered, and it wasn’t because the water spurting from the showerhead was freezing. Maybe it was time I revisited my standards. Life was getting harder. I needed to use every weapon in my arsenal to reverse my fortune.

              By the time I’d snapped myself into my costume, shook my braids out, and secured my springy dark curls with hairspray, I’d decided that I’d take a customer up on his offer for me to escort him, if the opportunity arose. It had before, and I’d always politely declined, so there was no reason to assume that the same thing wouldn’t happen.

              I’d applied a cherry lipstick and was smearing some gold, shimmery eye shadow on my lids and cheeks to match the gold sequins on my dress when I heard Parker announce my name.

              “Sol, on deck, Sol on deck, everyone give it up for Sugar.”

              I was going to have to learn to get ready faster if I really wanted to stay on the setup crew for the extra money. I dabbed my forehead lightly with a powder puff, aware that I was starting to sweat again just from the stress of rushing, and strode out of the dressing room.

              The lunch crowd of customers at the club was always a lot different from the dinner and after-hours crowds, but that didn’t mean I gave any less of an effort. For the most part, these were hard-working individuals looking to blow off some steam in the middle of their workday, or graveyard shift employees looking for a last laugh before going home and to bed. No matter what time of the day it was, I always tried to give my best onstage and when working the customers. I never knew when I’d get a good break — and a lot of money.

              As I walked up the stairs to the stage, towering in my stilettos, I gave a confident grin right into the spotlight trained on me, pausing at the end of the catwalk to allow some time for my music to start up. The bouncers finished gathering up the dollars Sugar had earned, gave a nod toward the DJ booth, and then Parker made my final announcement.

              “Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Sol,” she purred over the sound system, her low voice reverberating throughout the club. “She’ll brighten your day right up.”

              Scattered applause throughout the tables was instantly drowned out at the loud, infectious beat of my song. Most of the girls liked to dance to the latest rap and pop songs, but that music didn’t really speak to me. I preferred Latin beats, salsa and merengue, brought up to club standards with searing remixes and big bass.

              As I shimmied my way down the stage, dancing in perfect and complicated time to the rhythm of my song, I couldn’t help but think back on my earliest performances on this very same dance floor. I hadn’t had enough money to afford some of the more elaborate costumes of my fellow dancers, so I’d gone to a thrift store and purchased some lingerie I thought looked nice. I also didn’t have a handle on the tall platform shoes all of them wore, so I thought a nice pair of heels would suffice. I used the pole as a dancing partner rather than a means to expand my routine, and I’d danced to straight-up salsa, no extras thrown in.

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