Baby thought the same thing. It did seem odd, but she wasn’t about to say anything or draw attention to herself. If Mickey realized that she overheard that part of the conversation, he’d be sure to hit the roof.
“Rodney’s a good enough guy. I think we can both agree on that.” That’s all Mr. Tats had to say in return. He clearly wasn’t big on offering information about himself. Baby Jade was hoping he didn’t get a job working at Bottoms Up. She didn’t like the way his mere presence brought out her vulnerability.
“Fine. We’ll test you out as a bouncer. I can’t be everywhere all the time and the girls need someone to step in when the drunks get hands on. Work for you?”
Mr. Tats nodded. “I can do that.”
“Ok, be here tomorrow night at sundown. Night shift better not be a problem. I don’t have any need for a bouncer during the day.”
“Works for me. That’ll leave me open to pick up hours at Rodney’s during the day. Thanks for the opportunity, sir.” Mr. Tats extended his hand. To Baby Jade’s surprise, Mickey took it.
“Get yourself a beer son, on the house. Then we’ll see you back here tomorrow.” Some might have thought Mickey was being nice, but Baby Jade knew better. He was flexing his power.
“Thanks, I might do that,” Mr. Tats responded, his gaze locked on Baby Jade.
Mickey turned to walk away and ran right into her. “Dammit, Baby. What the hell are you doing standing there?”
“I’ve been trying to let you know I’m leaving. I covered Jewella’s set and I’m taking off now.” She heard Jewella’s snide giggle as she downed another shot of liquor. A small vial sat open on the bar. She was bombed.
“Whatever. Be back here tomorrow before your shift to go over the playlist. I’ll be busy showing stud here around.” He threw a thumb toward Mr. Tats.
“I can show him around,” Jewella shrieked.
“Not a chance. Get your ass to my office and get some sleep. You’re on tonight.” Mickey stood with his hands on his hips, appearing as if he was waiting for an unruly child. Baby Jade hurried to gather her bag from the empty dressing room, slipped on her shorts and t-shirt and snuck out the back door.
Baby Jade gave a relieved sigh. The only thing that could make this day any worse was running into Slade. Lolli was scheduled to work tonight and Baby had no doubt he would be dropping her off blasted. The homeless who frequented the alleys littered the concrete steps leading up to Bourbon Street with trash. They sometimes slept in the stairwells and alleys trying to stay off the main streets to keep from being arrested. It was a high traffic drug area with addicts tucked away in every corner.
Before Baby Jade made it around the corner, she heard the invigorating roar of a bike as it fired up.
Damn, I love that sound.
It had been forever since she’d been on the back of a bike. The motorcycle flew by with the rider oblivious that she was in the alley. Baby couldn’t make out his face, but the black t-shirt and boots were a dead giveaway. Wasn’t that appropriate? Mr. Tats drove a Harley.
Chapter Two
Lucky
I can’t believe I’m gonna be working in a fucking strip club.
Lucky had expected to be out of town by now, but things didn’t work out at Rodney’s as he had planned. He had enough money pulled together to leave, but not enough to get far. When Rodney suggested he get a job at Bottoms Up, Lucky laughed it off. He had sworn that wild side off a long time ago. That world was toxic. When you think you have it under control, you blink, and then you’re buried up to your neck gasping for air. Of course, he was also living proof you could claw your way out, but not without leaving a vast amount of scars.
From what Lucky could make out, Bottoms Up was a typical strip club. Dark, in need of a repair, unhappy girls, booze, drugs, and an asshole on an ego trip for a boss. But he had definitely seen much worse. The club did have one thing going for it though. Her name was Baby Jade, if he had heard the windbag correctly. She was breathtaking, literally. When he walked into the club, he purposely tried not to look at the stage, but this dancer was different. Her moves were perfect, not sloppy, or raunchy. Somehow, she managed to be sexy and classy at the same time, something unheard of in this industry.
When she finished her song and looked up, it was like a punch right to the gut. Her eyes were bright green. He couldn’t focus on anything else. If it hadn’t been for the crackhead pawing at him, he might have gotten a chance to talk to Baby Jade.
Shit! This girl could throw a wrench in my plans.
It would only cause pain and heartache for everyone if Lucky stayed in town. He had to take care of business and move on, regardless of the green-eyed beauty.
Chapter Three
Baby Jade
Baby Jade didn’t like to drive in the city. On the rare occasion that she wasn’t walking, she took a cab. Her apartment was a tiny box, and the club was suffocating. She liked being able to get outside and stretch her legs. It was cold at times, but being New Orleans, it was never too bad.
She walked a few blocks before turning onto the side street that dead-ended into a massive five-story brick building, an old building that had once been used as a meeting place for the United Confederate Veterans. The buildings and architecture in New Orleans were captivating to Baby Jade. She loved the history and stories that surrounded the magical city. It’s one of the reasons she liked to walk everywhere. She wanted to take in all the sights. The stones, the different colored glass in the windows and the markings on the walls and on the streets never grew old.
The old cemeteries also fascinated her. One of her favorite past times was to spend hours reading in the graveyards. She loved checking out all the aged headstones; wondering how the people died and what their lives once looked like. She would play out scenes in her head, questioning how their families coped with their passing.
This particular old building had huge columns lining the front. Ivy scaled the walls of the cracked bricks, giving it an old world charm. Very New Orleans. Wrought iron benches lined the walkway with towering pecan trees spaced intermittently in perfect rows.
It was beautiful when you took the time to appreciate it, and of course if you didn’t know what you were looking at. The sign outside simply read, “Pecan Grove.” It looked like a historic hotel, not at all like a mental health facility.
Her mother, Rozalie, was committed to Pecan Grove four years ago after being in and out of rehabs and institutions across the state throughout Baby’s childhood.
She pulled open the enormous wooden door. Walking into the massive building always made her queasy. Pecan Grove was the best facility in its field; great doctors, a ton of awards, and grants. The staff worked hard to put the families at ease. There were a lot of patient activities, and the facility stayed clean, almost to a fault. Nothing was hidden and families had easy access to information.
Over the years, her mom had been in some real shitholes. It wasn’t lost on her how blessed they were to have gotten into Pecan Grove. Everything ran like clockwork, it worked well for Baby Jade’s obsessive-compulsive nature.
However, none of it cured Baby Jade’s anxiety. There were huge rooms with bolted-down furniture. The combination of disinfectant and bleach was overwhelming. Moaning filled the halls, and patients screamed from behind locked doors. When an unruly patient had an outburst and couldn’t be subdued, they were strapped down to a gurney. That was the worst. Baby hated to see restraints under any circumstance.