Page 23 of Ruthless Lullaby

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Page 23 of Ruthless Lullaby

"Right," Kevin says. "I hear you." His eyes roam my body. "You will always have a place in New York High, Mindy. You're still beautiful. You haven't changed a bit."

I smile. "If you were straight, I would think you’re making a move, Kevin."

"That ship has sailed, Mindy," he winks. "I've got a stable boyfriend and we are in love."

"Oh, really?" I ask, smiling. "Congratulations, I’m happy for you! You sodeserve it!" I take a deep breath. "So can we talk business?"

"I was about to suggest the same,” he says. “I've got a slot open for you if you're interested. The singer that was penciled in for tonight is pregnant and she keeps calling in sick all the time. I need someone more reliable. I was about to look for someone to replace her, but then, you showed up out of nowhere… do you want it?"

“Seriously? When is it?"

"Tonight, Mindy. We start at ten, and finish when the guests are drunk enough to be kicked out."

Tonight??

I almost can’t believe my luck. Maybe the Universe is on my side, just for once.

"Sounds good, Kev." I smile. “I’m in!”

He smirks. "This is why I loved having you here, Mindy. I could always count on you. But I have to tell you, this gig is different from the others. It’s a private event, taking place in our other venue, in SoHo. And it pays… well, better than a regular gig would."

My heart leaps. "I better dust off the old songbook, then. What does ‘pays better’mean exactly?"

Kevin glances around the room before leaning in close to me. "Better than you might think. This is no ordinary gig, Mindy,” he says, keeping his voice low. “We have some exclusive regulars and they’ve been bringing in very serious cash lately. Your cut for tonight would be,” he looks around as if making sure nobody hears us. “Fifty grand. Plus tips, if you do well. Which I’m sure you will."

I almost jump.

Did he just say fifty grand?

Plus tips?

Luckily, Kevin has gone silent, giving me a moment to process this.

“Is it me, or did you just say fifty?” I blurt.

“You heard me,” Kevin replies, not taking his eyes off me.

“Like fifty thousand US Dollars?”

“That’s right.”

Holy freaking shit!

I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. Fifty grand is more than what most people make in a whole year, even in New York City. Which is why a sense of doubt creeps in.

This is too good to be true.

There has to be a catch.

I lean in closer, lowering my voice. "Kevin, that's... way too much money for one night. What's the catch?"

Kevin glances around the empty bar and fixes me with a stare. "Look, Mindy, I'll level with you. This isn't your typical gig. The client is... let's say, very well-connected. Russian businessman, if you catch my drift."

My stomach tightens. Yeah, I catch his drift. I've heard rumors about the Russian community in New York, whispers of organized crime, and shady dealings I don’t want to get involved in. "Is it... legal?" I ask.

Kevin holds up his hands. "Hey, as far as I’m concerned, you'll be there to sing. What these guys do for a living is none of our concern. But they have money and they like to throw it around. All you need to do is give them a good show and they will show you their appreciation."

“Give thema good show, huh?” I bite my lip, conflicted. I can’t help but wonder what that could mean.


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