"Sugar, how's it going?" Chris asked as he passed Lisa by the staircase.
"Going well." She replied with a smile. Chris smiled back and walked away.
She balanced a tray with a single bottle, heading toward VIP Room Two. Upstairs, one of her favorite clients awaited—the one who had made Chris name her his favouriteemployee.
Lisa knocked lightly, then stepped inside.
"Thanks, beautiful." He smiled.
"You're welcome, sir."
"I've told you not to call me that." He shook his head, sipping his drink. "By the way, I hope they're not working you too much here?"
Lisa lied smoothly. "Not at all."
"You can tell me if Chris is being a pain in the ass. You know it won't take me anything to pull this place down. I'd do anything for you, beautiful."
"There's no need for that," she replied, keeping her tone polite.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing with a touch of seriousness. "Alright. Have you thought about what I asked last time? I could get you out of here. A woman like you doesn't belong in a club. You belong in a palace, with attendants at your beck and call. Like the queen you are."
Lisa's lips curved. She had grown used to his charm-gentle, respectful, different from most men who tried to flirt. He always treated her as if she mattered, which was more than she could say for most clients.
Still, she lied through her teeth. "I like working here. Chris is very kind to me. I'm not willing to quit yet."
The truth was, she disliked Paradise Club. But Cole's offer would come with strings, and Lisa despised the weight of indebtedness more than she despised the job.
"Alright," He said, studying her. He gestured to the bottle on the table. "Do you want to join me? I can have something lighter brought up."
"No, no—I'm fine. It's a busy night."
"Seems to me Chris is working you too hard," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice. "Stay here till I leave. I'll tell him I personally requested it. That way, you can relax."
"No---"
"You can't refuse, Lisa. You don't even have to drink. Just sit. We'll talk."
Lisa hesitated, then sank into the seat opposite him. "Okay. I'll stay."
"Think about it, Lisa. You could have so much more."
She nodded, offering a polite smile as she traced the rim of an empty glass with her fingertip. The amber light caught the curves of the glass, and for a moment, the club's noise faded into a distant hum. His words were flattering, seductive even but hollow.
"You ever think about leaving?" He asked, his voice soft now, as if he could see the conflict flickering across her face. "Really leaving. Not just here, but all of it. I could arrange it, Lisa. No strings you don't want."
"I... I appreciate it, but I'm fine here. Thank you," she said carefully.
He studied her a beat longer, a small nod acknowledging her choice. Then he returned his attention to his drink, swirling it slowly, the gesture deliberate and calm. An uncomfortable, tense, undefined silence hung between them.
She finally stood. "I should get back to work," she said, her voice firmer this time. "I can't—"
He raised a hand, not to stop her, but in a gesture of permission. "Of course, Lisa. I'll see you next time."
As Lisa stepped out of the room, the dim lights of Paradise Club seemed sharper, harsher. Thoughts churned as she reached the bottom of the stairs. He meant well, she knew. But it wasn't freedom if it came with strings. She didn't want to owe anyone.
She stepped through the main floor, the music washing over her in waves. She headed toward the backroom and sat on one of the barstools. She slipped off her heels and placed them on the floor by her feet.
"Lisa, I've been looking for you all night." Max's voice carried across the backroom, warm and familiar.
Lisa turned, a small smile forming. "Hey, Max. How are you?"
"Good. Done with my shift, so I thought I'd check in before heading out." He settled onto a stool beside her.
"How's Alanna doing now?" Lisa asked, tilting her head. Max had told her days ago she was sick.
"She's better. I called earlier to check on her." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "I worry too much, don't I?"
Lisa smiled softly. "No. That just means you care."
Their eyes met, and for a moment neither of them spoke. Max broke the silence with a chuckle, shaking his head. "You always know the right thing to say."
"I'm just telling the truth," Lisa said.
Max stood, lingering. "Anyway, don't work too hard. See you tomorrow?"
"See you," Lisa said, watching him leave.
Hours slipped by in a blur of music, flashing lights, and clinking glasses. By the time the crowd thinned and the night crawled toward closing, Lisa longed for the quiet of home. She really disliked working at the Club but it put food on the table at least. All she could do was endure.
"Lisa, come—I need your help with a client," Daphne said, hurrying up to her.
Lisa frowned. "Where is this client? I hope it's not upstairs."
"No, she's in the lounge. She's been here nearly three hours and won't leave. She's... very drunk."
Lisa followed Daphne, and soon spotted the woman slouched in a corner. Her red dress was clearly designer, even if Lisa couldn't name which. Her lipstick was smeared, mascara streaking down her cheeks. She clutched her glass like a lifeline, swaying with every breath.
Lisa approached carefully. "Miss, we're closing now."
The woman lifted her head, squinting at her. "Oh, come on. Can't I stay a little longer? Just a little?" Her words slurred together. "I need to drink my problems away."
"You've had enough for tonight," Lisa said gently. She was used to handling drunk clients.
The woman hiccupped, then broke into a crooked smile. "You look like you've got listening ears. Do you?"
Lisa folded her arms. "Depends on who's asking."
The woman tapped her chest clumsily. "Jennifer. And I'm nice. Nicest person you'll ever meet. Will you listen now?"
Lisa chuckled. "Alright, Jennifer. I'm listening."
Jennifer leaned forward, lowering her voice. "I'm getting married soon."
"Oh?" Lisa asked. "Is that the problem you're trying to drown?"
"That's not the whole story." Jennifer's eyes watered, her mascara smudging further as she blinked hard. "I'm supposed to marry my childhood friend. In a few months. My father—he wants it. Says it'll strengthen our families." She spat the words like venom. "He always wants something. Always controlling. I hate him for it."
Lisa kept her expression calm. "And what about your friend? Does he want the marriage?"
Jennifer let out a laugh that cracked halfway through. "No! That's the funny part. He doesn't want it either. Lennie and I—we don't want this marriage. We've known each other forever, and sure, I love him like family, but not like that." Her glass slipped in her hand, and Lisa caught it just in time.
"I care about Lennie, even though he can be a jerk sometimes. But marrying him? That would destroy what we have." Jennifer's voice broke as she continued.
"Why not tell your families what you both want?" Lisa asked.
"You say it like it's easy." Jennifer's gaze dropped to Lisa's name tag, her lip trembling. "Lisa, it's not. I've thought of a hundred crazy ways to get out of it... crazy ideas, risky ideas. I just... I'm scared."
Lisa leaned back slightly, studying her. "If you really want to stop this marriage, you have to woman up and take the bold step yourself."
Jennifer blinked, then laughed softly. "Woman up. I like that."
"Sometimes we just have to take risks," Lisa said quietly.
Jennifer leaned closer, lowering her voice as though sharing a secret. "You want to know some of my crazy ideas?"
Lisa hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. Tell me."
Jennifer's lips curled into a tipsy grin. "Top two on my list? Either I fake my own death and vanish into thin air..." She paused for dramatic effect, then giggled. "...or I find someone willing to fake a baby bump for me. A child for Leonard. That would shut everyone up."
Lisa blinked, caught between disbelief and a laugh as she stared at Jennifer. Surely she was out of her mind. But maybe that was what fear did—it made ridiculous sound reasonable.
"You weren't kidding when you said crazy ideas."
"Crazy, bold—same thing." Jennifer tilted her head back, laughing too loudly before her smile faltered. "But sometimes, crazy is the only way out."
"I hope it works out for you," Lisa said softly.
Jennifer's shoulders slumped, but there was a faint curve to her lips. "Thanks... It was nice talking to you. Really."
"I'm glad I was helpful. Are you ready to leave now?" Lisa asked as she watched Jennifer grab her black Chanel purse.
"Mhm, mhm, I have to go now. Mr. Henderson doesn't like his precious daughter staying out this late." Jennifer let out a low chuckle.
"Do you need help getting a cab?" Lisa asked.
"No, someone's outside to take me home. Bye, Lisa!" She clutched the purse to her chest, wobbling in her matching black heels that screamed wealth.
Lisa followed and watched until she was safely settled into a car. Once the car drove off, she stepped back inside, chuckling softly.