Auctioned

by Lulu Pratt

  Nevertheless, I had to go into work tomorrow, at least for the day. But I wouldn’t talk to Tate again, that was for certain. Anything between us had dissipated the moment I laid eyes on that horror of an article.

  In a haze of anger and self-flagellation, I stumbled to my Jeep, just wanting to get home, to forget these past few weeks and retreat to a time when life wasn’t so fucking complicated. I couldn’t remember such a time, sure, but still…

  I was on the road in a few minutes, driving like a woman possessed. It probably would’ve been in my best interest to just pull over, blow my nose, and take a breather, but there are times when you have to let your rage out on the road, really press the pedal down and stick your hand out the window and blast some punk rock.

  It took me fifteen minutes to make a twenty-five minute journey. I’m not sure how I avoided getting flagged by the cops. Maybe that’s my one stroke of good luck today, I thought sardonically. Though I think I’d prefer never having seen that article.

  I turned off the engine, got out of the Jeep and walked to the front door, jangling my keys in the lock.

  “You home?” I called.

  I looked around for my dad. It was about the time of day when he’d stumble in for some sleep.

  His armchair was empty. Great. He was back at the casino.

  There was nothing left to do. I walked to my room and, without even bothering to remove my coat, I laid down on the bed and cried.

  CHAPTER 25

  Tate

  IT WAS THREE in the afternoon and there was no sign of her.

  I checked my watch again. Was it possible it was fast? It was an expensive timepiece, but maybe the thing had gone out of whack.

  I pulled out my phone.

  Much to my chagrin, the watch hadn’t lied. It was, indeed, three, and there was no sign of Kiki.

  She’s never late.

  The thought crossed my mind unbidden, but I knew it to be true. In the week or so I’d hung around her work area like a lovesick puppy, I’d come to realize she was consistently prompt. If I hadn’t been so busy mooning after her, perhaps as a boss I might’ve appreciated her timeliness.

  Kiki had a shift scheduled for three today, and it was now one minute past the hour and she was nowhere in sight. I hung to the back, shielded enough by various bright lights that I would go unrecognized by close enough to her home station that I wouldn’t miss Kiki if she walked in, even through crowds of people.

  Though crowds weren’t exactly a problem today, not by a long shot.

  When that article had dropped last night, I’d known that things might get bad. The allegations, as far as I knew, were wildly untrue, but the moment something goes viral, people swallow it as fact. I was a big believer in the veracity of news outlets, but the “article” had come from a gossip rag, nothing more than an overblown Instagram account with purchased followers, the kind of company that was sued all the time. In between screaming with frustration over the falsehoods in the piece, I was forced to wonder how they possibly kept their head above water with the various court fees they inevitably paid.

  The answer popped into my head at once. Men like Mac kept them afloat. It was immediately obvious that rich folks could pay such a platform to publish absolutely whatever shit billionaires wanted them to, even slanderous lies. I was certain the fees were high enough to cover whatever injury the platform incurred in the process.

  “Focus,” I said to myself aloud.

  I was getting distracted with theories of publication and viewership and dark money when the reality before me was that my casino was desolate.

  Normally, at this time of day, at a casino like Dazzlers, there’d be something like three hundred people on the floor. This kind of count came to me as naturally as breathing — when you work and live in Vegas long enough, you learn the flow and ebb of casino floors, the circadian rhythms of its movements.

  Today, I counted three people.

  I wondered what my father would say, if he were alive to see it. Could I have fucked up his legacy in such little time?

  This was nothing short of a crisis. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how much cash we stood to lose today. Worrying yet, I didn’t actually give a fuck. Dazzlers had plenty of money. What was really twisting me in knots was Kiki’s absence.

  She should be here by now, I thought again.

  Could she have been put off by that heinous article? Was it possible she was avoiding work, so as to not be tainted by the new stench coming off Dazzlers? She did, after all, have some strict morals, as I’d found out rather recently.

  I checked my watch every minute for the next half hour. No Kiki.

  But, at three thirty-five, she stormed into the casino, her hand clasping her phone so tightly the veins popped. Though she nodded politely to the coworkers she passed, it was clear that she was in no friendly mood.

  “Kiki!”

  She whirled around, searching for the source of the sound, and finally laid eyes on me.

  She let out what appeared to be a small laugh of disgust before continuing on her path, not even offering me so much as recognition.

  “Kiki, wait!”

  I leapt up from my perch and bolted to her. Her heels sank into the carpet as she walked faster and faster, clearly trying to avoid me. I wasn’t gonna let her get away that easily.

  Like I’ve mentioned before, I’m in good shape. It didn’t take me more than a few seconds to intercept Kiki, skidding to a halt before her.

  Her lips became a thin line.

  “Move, Tate. I have work to do.”

  “Please, just — can we talk?”

  “No.”

  She pushed past me, and I let her go. At the very least, given everything else, it was incumbent upon me to allow Kiki to do her job. To stop her, even when the situation was so dire, would be crossing a line.

  Still, I hung close to her as she went to the station to clock in. I saw the floor manager greet Kiki, and then shake his head. Kiki threw her arms up, and the floor manager made a remorseful expression. What could they be talking about?

  Kiki pivoted back around and moved to me once more, following the same path she’d walked minutes ago. Why wasn’t she carrying a tray? Why was she still wearing her coat?

  “I hope you’re happy,” she spat as she came within a few feet of me. “The floor manager said I can take the day off. There aren’t enough customers, apparently, to justify more than one server, and I was late.”

  “Why’s that my fault?”

  It wasn’t the question I’d wanted to ask, but I resented her accusation.

  Her lips drew back in a shocked, sarcastic grin. “Are you serious? Either you were a part of it, or you let it happen, but all this shit with Dazzlers in the news — that’s on you. And it’s why the customers have fled, though obviously you already know that. So I don’t get paid today because your business is flailing, and your business is flailing because of some stupid shit you pulled.”

  I pulled my shoulders back. I hadn’t anticipated a fight, but Kiki was baiting me, and if she wanted to duke it out, so be it.

  “Kiki, you know me. You know I wouldn’t condone anything like this.”

  “I know you? We met like a week and a half ago. I don’t know shit.”

  “You’re just afraid of how close we were a few nights back,” I countered in a low voice. “Don’t try to deny that there’s something deep between us.”

  She rolled her eyes in frustration.

  “God, you’re so full of yourself! I should’ve realized that all this talk was just that — talk. You put on a good show, Tate, I’ll give you that, but I’m from Vegas and I recognize an act when I see one. You can play innocent all you want.”

  “It was all lies!”

  “I’ve seen part of your world, remember? I was in that theater, under those hot lights. I watched as you all bid on me.”

  I couldn’t resist. “So now it’s my fault that you consensually took part in that?”

  “
Don’t try to be smart. I’m saying that I know shit happens in back rooms around here. And it’s not hard for me to imagine the drugs, the monopolies, the underage women. I’ve seen too much to pretend otherwise.”

  How had this gone downhill so fast? A few days ago, I thought Kiki might be the one. I can’t believe I’m admitting that, but it’s true. I’d never felt so close to somebody, especially not that fast. Our connection was something you couldn’t fake. She had seen me in all my fucked-up-ness, and she hadn’t minded.

  “I wish you weren’t trying to talk yourself out of liking me,” I murmured, staring directly into those cool green eyes. “You’re finding reasons to push me away, because you’re scared of what’s between us. This is a defense mechanism.”

  For a moment, she went silent, and whether she admitted it or not, I could tell I’d hit the nail on the head. I thought perhaps she’d buckle, and allow that maybe some of this was just bluster.

  Instead, she took a deep breath, and then said, “I’m quitting.”

  “What?” I felt my heart drop through my stomach. “That’s not a funny joke.”

  “Who said I was kidding? RES offered me a job, one that pays better. Maybe that’s because Dazzlers has been chronically underpaying workers, by the way. Anyhow, I’m gonna take it.”

  “RES?! He’s — they — you don’t even—”

  “Stop, Tate,” Kiki said, her hair fluttering as she moved her head left and right. “I don’t want any more snake oil from you, no more pitches. Just let me leave in peace. That’s the least you can do.”

  She walked past me once more, back to the front door. After a second of shock, I turned and fell in step behind her. Was I just going to follow her back and forth across the floor until she believed me? That wasn’t exactly a brilliant plan.

  “I said go away, Tate,” she called over her shoulder without looking at me.

  “Kiki—”

  “Go!”

  She blew past another computer station, where I could see another employee, maybe a janitor, being let off early by a different sector manager. I was so hot on Kiki’s heels that when she stopped dead in her tracks, I collided right into her back.

  “Get off me,” she cried as I stumbled away, disoriented by the run-in.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you,” is what I was trying to say, but she had already reversed back to the station we’d just passed.

  Where was she going this time?

  I overheard her say, “I recognize you,” to the man who had just been turned away from work.

  Oh fuck.

  I recognized him too.

  He was one of the employees I’d paid to sit at our poker table.

  This wasn’t gonna end well.

  I tentatively inched to Kiki as she asked the fellow, “Weren’t you at my poker table the other day, in the high-stakes room? What are you doing in a Dazzlers uniform?”

  The guy looked to me helplessly and shrugged. Kiki caught the eye movement, and it was all over.

  “Tate?!” she screamed, the word both a question and an indictment, as she reeled around on me.

  I slouched forward, hoping that I could weather this storm.

  “Tell me,” she whispered, her voice dropping low and shaking with anger, “that this doesn’t mean what I think it does.”

  There was no way out of it. She was smart, she’d figure it out. All I could do was tell the truth and hope she appreciated it. And, if I was lucky, take it as testament to my truthfulness as regarding the Mac thing.

  But I wasn’t lucky today.

  Her eyes darkened as she looked at me and asked:

  “Did you set up that poker game as a way to give me money?”

  “Yes.”

  Her mouth fell open, and she took a step away from me.

  “How could you? After I said I didn’t want your money, you made up an elaborate ruse to, to what, make me a charity case?”

  “It was supposed to be a romantic gesture,” I said helplessly, knowing that she was past the point of caring about what I said.

  “You think it’s romantic to ignore my wishes, to do the exact opposite of what I ask? Communication is romantic, Tate, trust is romantic. What you did was try to make yourself feel better about your privilege and Dazzlers’ years of enabling systemic inequality by using me as some kind of outlet for your humiliation. Well, I won’t help assuage your guilt. I’m not a pawn.”

  I gave up. It was clear that, for all she talked about listening, she didn’t actually want to listen to me.

  “I’m independent,” she continued, wagging a finger at me. “I’ve been independent for a long goddamn time. Men like you, guys who’ve never had to count on their own wits, you assume women like me are damsels in distress, constantly yearning for your assistance and intervention. Well, we’re not. I’m not. So take your bullshit, fake-ass chivalry somewhere else. I’m doing just fine on my own.”

  That last sentence was a cry of desperation, a thing she was telling herself more than me. Her lower lip trembled as she said it, throwing defiance in the face of all the crap life had given her. Even as she yelled at me, I had to admit I was impressed at her dogged determination.

  But then I came to my senses. No one got to speak to me like that, not even Kiki.

  I adopted my most vacant expression. She had already pulled from me all the vulnerability she was going to get. I wouldn’t allow her an ounce more. Kiki wanted to be spoken to like she was just some average chick? Fine. No special treatment.

  “Drop your uniform off before you go.”

  She swallowed, waiting for me to say something else. I didn’t gratify her.

  “Sure,” she said, her voice stony.

  It was a cold war between two equally matched opponents, neither of us willing to give even an inch as we stared into one another’s eyes, hate frothing so tangibly I felt it coat my skin.

  Finally, Kiki scowled.

  “I’ll go leave my uniform with Sonia.”

  With that, she stalked across the casino floor and to the employee lounge. Back there, I knew, she would take her Dazzlers uniform off for the final time, fold it neatly, and return it to the stack of costumes, sizes 00-6, we always had lying around. There would be nothing distinct about the outfit, nothing to mark that such an incredible woman had once worn it. The fringe would regain its anonymity, and Kiki would dissipate.

  I bent over at the waist, unconsciously recalling a thing I use to do as a child. If you lean over and take deep, gasping breaths for about thirty seconds, then stand up, put your back against a wall and hold your arms up, you instantly faint. The moments between fainting and regaining consciousness are filled with vivid, stirring dreams, the likes of which you never experience during sleep.

  Now seemed like a good time to pass out and escape somewhere else. But I was an adult, and there was no running from my responsibilities.

  I stood up straight, and tried to wrap my head around what had just passed between Kiki and me.

  She was going to work at RES.

  It was the greatest insult possible. More than that, though, it was patently unsafe. I refused to believe that Mac had just happened to hire her. He knew exactly who Kiki was, had bid fiercely on her in the virginity sale — if only to goad me and up his final take. He must be up to something.

  Kiki hated me, she’d made that much clear, and I wasn’t too pleased with her, either.

  But I needed to protect her from whatever Mac had in store.

  So what the fuck did I do now?

  CHAPTER 26

  Kiki

  “HEY, Tulsie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s Kiki. I’m taking the job.”

  “Good,” she replied. “Come in now. I’ll tell them to get your paperwork ready. Welcome aboard.”

  The older woman hung up, not one for pleasantries.

  My heart was still beating a mile a minute, and I put my hand on my chest to steady the rapid thump.

  Did I really just d
o that?

  I had just left Dazzlers and now I turned to look back on its gigantic façade, covered in reflective crystal and purple glass.

  Was I actually going to leave this place, which had been such a big part of my life? I’d only worked there for six months, granted, but I’d gone to watch my dad work (and later, gamble) since I was a toddler, maybe even younger. Who was I, when Dazzlers was no longer a part of me?

  You’re a better person, my brain supplied. Without Dazzlers, you can finally become the Kiki you’re meant to be.

  I — I mean, my brain — was right. Dazzlers had stood in the way of my happiness for too long. This would be a chance at a fresh start. And, hey, with the pay increase, maybe I could finally start saving for Washington.

  I didn’t look back at the casino again, just walked forward and into my future.

  Within half an hour, I was at RES, palms sweating with first-day jitters.

  “You can do this, you can do this,” I instructed myself under my breath. “You’re gonna be great.”

  I found Tulsie right where I’d left her yesterday — smoking a cigarette and doing calculations. Maybe women like that worked at casinos because it was the only place left where you could still smoke a cigarette indoors.

  “You made up your mind real fast,” she said by way of greeting.

  “I had a little help.”

  I waited for her to press me, but of course, she didn’t. She was the type for whom work is work, and even the mildest of non-work questions was unwelcomed. I had a certain admiration for such an attitude, in that it’s only sustainable if said person has a thriving extracurricular life. Perhaps Tulsie was a real lady about town in her spare time. I hoped so, anyway.

  There was, as promised, a small pile of paperwork, but then I jumped right into the shift, trying not to feel discouraged at the immediacy of the whole thing. I suppose I’d expected some more fanfare, maybe a cake or something. Hell, Tulsie didn’t even gather the other employees to introduce me as their new co-boss. She said I’d meet them all eventually. It was so… anticlimactic.