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That’s too many zeros. He sees my eyes bug out.
“I ain't shitting you. My dad just gave me my graduation bonus early. So money. Is. No. Object.” That smile pulls at his lips. He sees me giving in. “Come on, Hellena.”
I hate the way he says my name. Like he’d ever be caught dead talking to me out in public.
But that kind of money…
It’s enough to cover next year. And I wouldn't have to bust my ass all summer trying to find side gigs.
“And, what, you just have it under your bed?”
“Well, yeah, like half of it. Is that cool? I’ll get you the rest tomorrow, like usual?”
“Uh. Yeah. Yes. Okay.” Fucking rich people.
Who keeps ten K lying around? And do I even need that much?
I hate the whole situation.
Even more so a few hours later when I find myself standing under a dingy green awning on a side street behind a piss-soaked bar near the wharf, waiting to get killed.
All of my alarms are going off for doing this. I had to call a guy whose number I got from a friend of a girl one of my dancers met one time at a rave in Arbor Bend up the coast.
Rule number… whatever. I don’t meet strangers I’ve never worked with in dark alleys.
But I’ve still got my “green” goggles on, dollar signs that keep telling me this will be fine. It won’t totally bite me in the ass later. Or get me kidnapped now.
I’m two seconds from turning tail and running when I realize it’s too late, one guy stepping out from the opening of the alley to block the entrance, the other guy slipping out from a doorway, a sick, gap-toothed grin on his face.
“What can I do you for, gorgeous?”
2
HELLENA
Old Rule Number 1. I don’t get wasted at any party I host. This is still valid and true. However…
New Rule Number 1. Never meet shady drug dealers in a dark alley alone.
What the hell was I thinking?
The thump, thump, thumping from the dancefloor helps drown out my anxiety. It’s not gone, yet. It won’t be completely gone until tonight’s over and the sleazebag dealer gets here and gets gone.
I never should have let Todd talk me into it.
A lap around the party loosens me up, and I try to let my body move a little, losing myself in the music while I work the drinks table, make a few cocktails for people, and make sure the kegs stay cold and pumped. Make the crowd happy, get a few tips to sweeten the pot, and I even get to leave the mess in the morning for Todd and his freshmen to clean up this time.
Technically, I don’t really have to be here the whole time, but the kind of money Todd is spending makes me want to make sure he’s at least heading straight toward passing out with a grin before I go.
This party is my grand prize, securing my next year of school.
So it has to be epic and smooth.
Not that I’m here to police his party, just make sure the “fun” gets here and is put to good use.
And I gotta admit, I came through for Todd. This party is OUT OF CONTROL. Everywhere I look, people are dancing, laughing, playing drinking games, and generally getting crazy. Some guy just barreled down the stairs on a sled. Two girls are completely naked in a kiddy pool in the middle of the living room, covered in baby oil.
There are at least six couples at any given moment full-on screwing out in the open. Pure mayhem.
