Page 12 of Sinful Lord

This stuff has been locked so far deep inside of me that I was starting to think it was disappearing.

“What changed?” I huff. “I met other painters—well, not so much met, as served.”

“You thought working at a bar in Kreuzberg would be a good networking opportunity?”

“In hindsight, it sounds stupid,” I agree. “But this is supposed to be where all the cutting-edge artists in Berlin live.”

“It is,” Dana says, handing me back an emptier bottle of vodka. “But the only time you want to meet any cutting-edge artist is when they’re sober, and honey, when they come here, they ain’t sober. This is a last stop. Not a first.”

“I should have figured...”

“How’s that?” Dana teases. Before I can answer, she slams the finished Black Russian onto the bar. “Here you are, you bad little boy.”

The patron makes a big show of shivering with delight.

“Danke meine liebe,” he swoons, rubbing his shoulder before taking a big sip. “Perfekt.”

I wince away when he smacks his lips. But Dana doesn’t even budge.

“Elsa, the manager, said she didn’t even care about my qualification,” I explain. “She just needed someone to work the bar. As far as she was concerned, I could learn on the job.”

“This is the kind of place with a high turnover rate, for sure.”

“Elsa told me as much. Do you think it’s because of all the creeps?”

“Creeps and artists,” Dana smiles.

“Is there any difference?”

That makes Dana laugh.

“Now you’re starting to get it.”

“It shouldn’t have taken me this long,” I say, shaking my head. “If only Elsa had warned me.”

“Probably just didn’t want to scare you away. Would you still have worked here if you knew the extent of it?”

“Probably,” I reluctantly admit. “And I think she knew that too. I was desperate. I still am desperate.”

“For money?”

“For money… and to network. Elsa assured me I’d meet plenty of artists here.”

“And have you?”

“I’m sure I have—now, how many have I connected with?”

“Zero.”

I nod.

Looking over her shoulder, Dana leans in closer to me and whispers, “You didn’t hear it from me, but something about Elsa rubs me the wrong way. It doesn’t help that some of my friends tried to stop me from getting a job here. There are rumors about this place. About her…”

Before I can inquire further, the front door bursts open and a temporary hush seems to momentarily fill the bar.

My heart immediately drops to the floor.

From the moment I ran away from home, I’ve been expecting to be dragged back… or worse.