“Too risky.”
“But it buys me some time.”
“He’ll want more than your body, Flipp.”
“What, you mean he’s a secret preacher man and he wants to convert me?”
Rocky’s grip on her tightened and she almost spat out the chip she had popped into her mouth.
“Sweetheart, do me a favour and take me seriously. I’m not joking.” Rocky’s face was stern as the greying skies above.
“Well, come on. It’s all a bit melodramatic. He’s going to seduce me and then suck out my soul. This isn’t some flipping vampire movie.”
“I’ll tell you a story. It’s a true story. A couple of years ago, the girl who had your job was called Loulou. She was pretty and smart, like you, and she had no references, like you. Cordwainer found out pretty quickly that she had a past involving prison and drug rehab. It had been Loulou’s chance to start again with a clean slate, but when your boss heard about it, he wouldn’t let her forget it. He said he couldn’t employ a criminal in his arcade. He didn’t want any fingers in the till. But there was another job she could have—one with no access to cash.”
“Right,” Flipp breathed. “What was the job?”
“She could be a hostess. In his private club.”
“His private club?”
“It’s a fetish club. The hostess gets to dress in rubber and get whipped and fucked by all comers.”
Flipp’s jaw dropped. She had been expecting some tawdry tale of seduction and abandonment, but this took everything several steps further.
“You think he’ll…offer me the same deal?”
“I don’t know if he knows your secret—whatever it is—yet. But when he finds out…He’s just given his submissive to another man. He has a vacancy, Flipp.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly.”
Flipp crumpled the empty chip cone and stuffed it into her bag before clasping cold fingers around Rocky’s jacketed forearms.
“What happened to Loulou?”
“A rich banker type bought her off Cordwainer. Paid top dollar, apparently, because he had ‘trained’ her so well. I think he keeps her as a ponygirl now.”
“A whattygirl?”
“Ponygirl…Oh, never mind. It’s what it sounds like, pretty much. The main point I’m making is, if you want to keep on eating off plates instead of nosebags, you need to get away from Cordwainer.”
“I don’t see how I can. You haven’t got away from him, have you? And you obviously want to.”
“He knows too much about me,” muttered Rocky. “Look, love. Whatever you don’t want him to know—you have to tell me. I need to know the worst. I can’t help you unless I have the full picture. And I want to help you more than anything. I want you out of this mess.”
“Wouldn’t that endanger you, though? If Cordwainer is as dodgy as all that…”
“Leave Cordwainer to me. I can handle him. I need the truth. Don’t worry about telling me. Whatever it is, I’m bound to have done worse.”
She turned around to face him, snug in his arms, but feeling as vulnerable as she had ever done.
“Okay,” she whispered, putting her hands on his shoulders and staring up into his face. It always gave her a rush, the sight of him, his eyes linked to hers, and despite her fear, that quick swooning thrill darted from tip to toe. “I’ll tell you tonight. After work.”
“You mean you’re still doing the overtime?” Rocky’s disapproval made her quake in her Converse, but she held his gaze without flinching.
“I don’t think he knows anything. Yet. I can fend him off, Rocky. Or at least just give him a little bit to go on. I need time to think. I can’t just cut and run.”