Auctioned

by Lulu Pratt

  The dealer nodded, and the other players looked miffed but took their losses on the chin.

  “Sure am, sweetie,” the woman confirmed. “You’re the big winner.”

  Kiki glanced at me. “Can we play again?”

  “Of course we can.”

  She clapped her hands together with the eagerness of a schoolgirl, cash swimming before her eyes.

  “I’m in,” she told the dealer.

  One of the players nodded to me.

  Okay so… I have a very small confession to make. Totally minor, not a big deal at all.

  I may have, uh, been a little fast and loose with the truth.

  See, the idea of playing poker hadn’t just randomly come to me. In fact, I’d been planning it all morning.

  After Kiki had left — and I’d received that asinine call from Mac — I felt horrible about how I’d accidentally cheated her out of a million dollars — or, according to Mac, six-hundred thousand. But she wouldn’t take money directly from me, because apparently, that muddied our budding romance.

  So I’d been forced to take matters into my own hands.

  I’d devised a quick little plan — I’d hire some staff who worked in different parts of Dazzlers than Kiki — think maid service, concierge, et cetera, and the movie star was an old friend of my father who I asked to join us as she owed me a favor or two, have them sit down at a predetermined table in the high-rollers room, and then casually mention to Kiki that I felt like playing a round. Then, the hired help would all purposefully lose the game, thus giving Kiki the money in a way that didn’t make her feel like she was being paid off.

  It had gone exactly according to plan.

  I’m not an evil genius, more of a… a friendly genius. A philanthropic genius.

  Shit, I’d called it ‘philanthropy.’ That wasn’t right, she wasn’t a charity case. She was just a friend — or something more — who I was trying to pay back for the money I had robbed her of. That wasn’t charity, it was settling a debt.

  Or at least, that’s how I was selling it to myself.

  Anyways, the whole thing allowed Kiki to maintain her pride, and let me rest easy at night or it would, if I ever got to sleep.

  After coming down from what looked to be a fabulous orgasm, Kiki settled in to play a few more rounds. I looked on approvingly, happy to see her face light up with not just a smile, but with genuine relief. I’m doing the right thing, I told myself. She was in good spirits, and that’s what mattered.

  When she’d played three more rounds, Kiki turned to me.

  “I can’t play another,” she admitted, her voice rising high with nerves and excitement. “I don’t wanna lose it all. This is the luckiest streak I’ve ever had in my life.”

  I put my hand over hers, which rested on the green felt.

  “Then let’s tap out,” I agreed, knowing that if I pushed my luck, she might discover that I’d rigged this whole thing. After all, winning three rounds — and what I estimated to be over fifty-five thousand — was straining believability.

  She thanked the dealer, pushing more chips in the woman’s direction than I would’ve anticipated. I smiled, loving Kiki’s generosity. The moment she was up in cash, she redistributed it to others. Now that’s a special kind of person.

  We scooted away from the table, leaving the actors to feign the game for a few more minutes until we were safely out of view.

  As soon as Kiki and I went through the velvet curtain, she pivoted to me and squealed.

  “I’ve never had such a lucky streak in my life!” she shrieked, throwing her arms around my neck and planting kisses on my face. “You must be my snake eyes.”

  “I’m your fuzzy dice,” I agreed. Little did she know.

  “Tate, this is over half of what I need to get my dad out of debt.”

  “Congratulations, babe.”

  I brought my lips to hers for a quick smooch. She relaxed into it for a moment, before pulling away.

  “Not here,” she said, blushing. “My coworkers might see.”

  That made me laugh. “I just fingered you under a table, with people all around us, and you’re worried someone might catch us kissing?”

  “Call me old-fashioned,” she said with an open-mouthed chuckle. “Speaking of coworkers, I gotta get back to work. This money is definitely gonna put a dent in paying off my dad’s debts, but it’s not enough.”

  I sighed, and tried not to let my frustration show.

  Even after pulling off an elaborate ruse, I hadn’t done enough to get Kiki the money. One hundred thousand? I could easily spend that in a day. It made me mad, seeing how what was a pittance for me was so very much for her. She deserved to never worry about money, to never feel financially insecure. She deserved to be treated like a queen.

  But, knowing that she’d be outraged if she found out about my little scheme, I had to let her go to avoid suspicion.

  “Okay,” I agreed. “Have fun at work. Tell your coworkers that you’re the new big poker fish in town.”

  She snorted. “Oh, hardly. Those people were just idiots. Have you ever seen such rich men play so poorly?”

  No, I thought to myself.

  Aloud, I shrugged it off. “The more money you have, the looser you are with it.”

  “I guess… anyways, I’ve gotta jet. Maybe I’ll see you later.”

  She brushed her hand up against my stomach before abruptly turning away and waltzing back to her station. In the immortal words of somebody or another, I hated to see her go, but I loved to watch her leave.

  I tilted my head at an angle, hoping to get a better view of Kiki’s ass as it swayed side to side, rustling the little gold-fringed bodysuit.

  “Tate?”

  “Huh?”

  I tore my eyes away from her round little ass, and forced them onto a far more unpleasant view — Jack.

  He was, as usual, in a lather. How the fuck had he tracked me down here?

  “What is it?” I demanded, in no mood for his reindeer games.

  “Sir…”

  I clapped my hands together. “Faster, Jack.”

  “You’re not gonna like it.”

  “I never do, but tell me anyways.”

  He wiped a hand across his upper lip, and said slowly, “Did something happen between you and Mac?”

  Jack didn’t have to give a last name. There was only one Mac in this town.

  “Maybe. It’s not your business.”

  “Well, sir, it is, actually. Mac’s been, um, on a bit of a tear this morning. I guess something transpired between you, I don’t know what, but because of it… the thing is, he’s telling other casinos to blackball Dazzlers.”

  The floor dropped out from beneath me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yes.”

  My head was reeling off its axis. I knew exactly what “blackballing” meant in the world of Vegas and casinos. It’d been done before, to Gush and MeMeMe, amongst others, both of which had closed within a week. Blackballing was a nearly feudal action undertaken when the thing at stake was pride.

  It meant Mac was about to undergo a campaign of rage and slander to shutter Dazzlers. If history told us anything, he would go to the press and have someone he’d paid off publish an awful story about me, or the casino — there was room for creativity in this portion of the activities. Then, he’d bribe workers away from Dazzlers, with the hopes that it’d be impossible to restaff quickly. And, needless to say, he’d turn the board of casino owners against me. That last bit wouldn’t take too much work. They already hated me.

  “Kiki,” I breathed.

  Mac was going to try to close my casino, and all because of Kiki.

  Well, I was fucked.

  CHAPTER 24

  Kiki

  ABOUT HALF an hour into my shift after my big win, I’d looked around the casino floor, hoping to see Tate. These last few days, he’d taken to hanging out around my work area, I think so that he could occasionally start a conversation with me. He thoug
ht it was subtle, but I knew a smitten boy when I saw one.

  But today, oddly enough, he seemed to have disappeared as soon as we’d left the poker table. Weird.

  I was still riding the high of my big win when I got a ring on my cell.

  Ducking out of the main area, I took the call, nervous it would be my dad, dialing from some pay phone to say he was in trouble and needed help.

  “Hello?”

  “Kiki?”

  “Yeah, who’s this?”

  “I’m Tulsie, I work with RES.”

  My heart thudded in my chest. Was this about the virginity sale?

  She continued, “We’d like to offer you a job here, working as Floor Manager, overseeing cocktail services and such.”

  Wait… what? I hadn’t been a waitress at Dazzlers that long, certainly not long enough to delegate responsibilities to a whole team and I hadn’t applied for any jobs. Why the hell was I getting this call?

  Then it occurred to me that perhaps I’d made a splash at the virginity sale, and somebody or another had thought to hire me. Things like that can filter down a chain of command.

  “Okay,” I said finally. “I’m listening.”

  And then she named a number that was almost double my yearly salary.

  “I’ll take the interview,” I replied immediately, in no position to question it.

  Maybe I can work two jobs, I thought to myself. Part time at Dazzlers, and full time at RES. There’d be no hours left over in the day, but if I asked them to front me a few paychecks, I’d get my dad’s debts paid in time.

  “Excellent,” Tulsie said, her deep voice smooth like satin. “When can you come in?”

  “How about today?”

  We agreed on a time after my shift at Dazzlers was over, and I thanked her, hanging up the phone.

  I spent the rest of the shift rushing cocktails to and fro and wondering how the fuck I was having such patently good luck. After years of bad shit just flying at me nonstop, I’d suddenly earned over a year’s pay in a few rounds of poker, and then received a job interview for twice as much money. Some supernatural force was definitely watching over me.

  As soon as my shift was up, I changed into my coat and scurried out the door, not even stopping to find Sonia and tell her the good news. She was due to come in for the next shift but was running a little late, and I didn’t have time to linger around for her.

  Walking back into RES felt like stepping into a dream that I wasn’t quite sure I had dreamed. Instead of going to the discreet bar in the back, I followed Tulsie’s instructions and went to a small staffing office downstairs, where I found a tall, slim woman waiting in a chair.

  “Hey, Tulsie?”

  The woman looked up, her French chignon dipping low on her neck.

  “You must be Kiki. You certainly are wonderful to look at. Come on in.”

  Trying not to hunch over with embarrassment, I strode into the room and took the seat across from her.

  I’d give you more details, but frankly, it was a pretty run-of-the-mill job interview — she asked me about my work history, my goals, et cetera. After about fifteen minutes, I thought I was obviously toast. It was clear, to me at least, that I didn’t have much experience, and probably wasn’t qualified for the job.

  And yet, at the end of the interview, Tulsie put both palms on her desk and said, “Excellent, you have the job.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  There was no way this was real. Nobody ever hired right after an interview, especially not for a managerial position. They should’ve made me wait at least a few days, maybe a week to check references. I repeat — what the fuck was going on?

  It was all happening too fast.

  As Tulsie told me more about what the pay structure would be, my mind wandered off, spinning with questions.

  Did I take it? I’d agreed to an interview for the hell of it, just because it seemed stupid to say no, but now that I was confronted with the actual opportunity, I wasn’t sure I could say yes. Everything was a little too strange, right?

  Plus, the more she talked about the job, the more certain I was that I couldn’t work at Dazzlers at the same time. In other words, if I accepted the position, I’d have to quit — and by extension, I wouldn’t get to see Tate as much. Was that a childish thing of me think? Maybe. But romance is childish and giddy and freewheeling.

  My phone beeped and I looked down.

  Speak of the devil — it was Tate calling.

  I sent it to voicemail, not wanting to be rude to Tulsie.

  “So?” she asked. “Would you like the job?”

  I debated it for a moment, then came up with a short-term solution.

  “Could I shadow the position tonight, see what it’s all about?”

  She nodded. “Yes, that sounds like a great idea. You’d be co-managers with Henrietta, so I’ll have you follow her around.”

  Huh. So they were adding a position, not just filling a vacant one. Strange, but I guess not extraordinary. Casinos gets busy and need more people, that was normal.

  I shook off my doubts and walked with Tulsie to the RES floor. My phone dinged again — Tate. What could he possibly want? I powered down the phone. Answering it would be pretty unprofessional. I tucked it away in my coat.

  Tulsie introduced me to Henrietta, a middle-aged woman who looked like she’d spent her whole life working in casinos. That’ll be me in a few years, I thought with dismay. She wasn’t unattractive — far from it — just… worn, as though the years sat heavy.

  But she was all business, and I appreciated that. Tulsie left us to it, and Henrietta began to show me around the shift, explaining how operations worked, what the girls were like, so on and so forth. We’d never be good friends like Sonia and I were, but maybe she could be a strong adult role model for me, a kind of mentor.

  The hours passed smoothly, save for the fact that I was so tired I felt like my bones had had their marrow wrung out. By the end, I was hobbling with exhaustion, and though I tried my best to hide the fact, Henrietta caught on as my shift was winding down.

  “Late night?” she asked in the dry tone of a woman who’d seen it all.

  “The latest.”

  She nodded. “I had a few of those when I was your age. Tell you what, you’ve seen everything you needed to see ‘round here. Frankly, the job isn’t very hard, and it doesn’t require two people, but I’ll be happy to split the workload and keep my pay the same. It’s a good deal, and I hope you take it.”

  She stuck out her hand, and I shook it gratefully.

  “Thanks for showing me the ropes,” I replied. “I’ll definitely think about it.”

  Without another word — it seemed like talking wasn’t her forte — Henrietta turned and went back to the employee lounge, and I was left alone in RES, pondering my choices.

  Well, at least this day is finally over, I thought with relief.

  As I walked out the front door, I pulled my phone from my pocket and turned it on.

  Suddenly, I was hit with a deluge of notifications, so many that it looked like a waterfall down the front of my home screen. What the fuck?!

  A number of them were texts, calls, and voicemails from Tate. I was about to respond immediately, out of concern that perhaps he’d been in an accident and I was the first person he’d thought to call, which would be sad, but I suppose possible since he had no living family. That’s when I caught a glimpse of a breaking news alert with the word DAZZLERS in the headline.

  That was weird. Casinos never made news in Vegas, even when people found out they were housing puppy mills or some shit.

  I swiped right on the notification and opened it up.

  “OH MY GOD.”

  The words fell out of my mouth before I realized they belonged to me. People on the sidewalk gave me some backwards glances, but I didn’t give a fuck.

  Because there was a full-page spread, TMZ-style, detailing Dazzlers’ most sordid activities. The further down I read, the more I felt like thr
owing my phone into the nearest multi-colored fountain.

  Here are some of the highlights:

  Dazzlers has been underpaying its workers for over a decade, in many cases skirting under the minimum wage by hiring undocumented immigrants and other people in precarious living situations who have no choice but to take what money they can.

  The casino sold drugs to patrons, including opioids that was rumored to be involved in the death of one particular YouTube celebrity.

  Dazzlers was also behind the sale of several underage women to wealthy clientele, possibly against the will of said women.

  Tears swam unbidden in my eyes, and before I’d reached the end of the article, they were pouring down my face. Rage threatened to knock my legs out from under me, and I steadied myself against a large faux-marble pillar to stop myself from collapsing.

  Jesus Christ. I’d known that Dazzlers was involved in shady shit. Every Vegas casino had a hand in some dirty pot. Despite my recently defunct status as a virgin, I wasn’t naïve — I wasn’t under the impression that I was working for some sort of charity.

  But this… well for fuck’s sake, this was way, way, way over the line between shifty business practices and outright evil. How could I have been so blind?!

  Of course Tate wasn’t a good guy, I mean, I should’ve known. Like I said, nobody gets that rich without pulling some truly horrendous shit. He’d charmed me with his “woe is me” tale, his dad who had reminded me so much of my own, but when the curtain was pulled back, Tate was just like the rest — a total asshole. I was willing to believe that he didn’t know everything that went on in his casino, but he had to have been aware of at least some small portion of this.

  I wiped away another tear that escaped down my cheek.

  Fuck, I had to go into work tomorrow! I had to go into work, and see Tate, this awful man who’d fooled me into giving up my virginity — for free, I might add — on the grounds that he was the genuine article. More than anything, I was pissed that I’d been so easily tricked. Maybe all these years in this gruesome town really had taught me nothing.

  I was, fundamentally, disappointed in myself, and it was a shame I knew would haunt me for years to come.