Chapter 3 A NIGHT JOB

LILY'S POV

"Hey, Lily, you still need money?" Jean pops her head into my room as she leans on the door frame

"Err... Hello, are we just meeting?" I look up from Jason's homework, lean back on the headboard, and squint at Jean. "I always need money."

"Good."

"Good?" I frown. "Yeah. I mean, I have good news for you... But only if you still need money. And since you do, well, I have good news for you." Jean grins and beckons with her hand.

"Come outside."

I glance at Jason, my twelve-year-old brother, who's playing a game on my old phone while sitting in front of the cheap particle board desk by the small window, the only window in the room.

"Hey, you have five more minutes to play and then you need to finish this homework, okay?" He grunts in reply, not even bothering to look up.

I roll my eyes. Teenagers. It wasn't too long ago that I was a teenager myself, but I had to grow up quickly, considering my childhood. I started working really hard as soon as it was legal for me to get a job, so I could move out of Mom's as soon as I turned eighteen.

Then, I continued to work my ass off so Jason could move in with me. I didn't want him to have to endure Mom's verbal abuse longer than he had to, or deal with her lousy boyfriends.

Sure, nobody ever beat us up or anything, but that woman doesn't have her shit together and shouldn't have had kids. I know what hell it is to live with her.

Now that Jason's here, he can actually play and study in peace. I ruffle his hair as I get up and walk away before he can swat at my hand.

Outside, in the living room, I join Jean on our second-hand couch. The seat is hard and sagging from years of use. There's no give when I plant my butt down on it.

Jean's grinning from ear to ear, which is always a bad sign. Whatever plan she has in her head, it must be diabolical. "So, what's your big idea? Rob a bank? Mess with an old lady's will so we'll inherit all her wealth?"

"Have some faith in me, Lily. I would never hurt another person. First, do no harm, remember?" The grin remains plastered on Jean's face, which doesn't instill me with much confidence in her good will.

"Alright, let's hear it." I take a deep breath.

This can be anything. Over the years, Jean has tried to convince me to get matching tattoos, TP the house of the ex who cheated on her, and join a few other students in streaking across the campus. I said no to all those things because I didn't want to get sent to jail.

I mean, if I have money problems now, how much more difficult would life be with a criminal record? I have to admit that my life would've been a lot less interesting without Jean's crazy ideas, though.

Not all of them are completely stupid or downright dangerous. I enjoyed crashing house parties and getting black-out drunk for free multiple times. I also joined some guys Jean knew on their road trip to Jalisco-for free, again.

Jean always has way more friends than I do, both because I'm always busy working and because it takes time for me to warm up to someone. I'd have no social life without her. I brace myself.

"Okay. You know how I'm saving up for the Europe trip?" Jean adjusts her position and leans closer conspiratorially.

"You only talk about it, like, seven times a day."

"Okay. Good. So. Um, I'm just going to say it." Jean takes a deep breath. This is not a good sign. A sane person about to deliver a sane idea doesn't get that nervous.

"Lingerie waitress."

"What?" I can't believe what I'm hearing. Even by Jean's standards, this is crazy.

"Lingerie waitress," she repeats.

"I heard you the first time. I just can't believe you're actually considering this. Isn't that, like, illegal or something?"

"It's not prostitution, Lily." Jean rolls her eyes. "It's just like any of your other waitressing jobs, only you do it while wearing lingerie."

"I can be a waitress elsewhere."

"Sure you can, but do any of those other jobs pay $5,000 per night?"

My eyes widen in shock-and greed, too, I suppose. I raise my hand and hold up my palm, all five fingers outstretched. "$5,000? Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." Jean's eyes shine with excitement. She knows she's caught my interest. I mentally make calculations in my head. I think about the bills, the debts, the due dates, and the portion of my pay check that will be left after taking care of the essentials like rent and food. I could really use the money.

"Don't think about it too much. This is a no-brainer. That's a crazy amount of money for one night's work. If you think about it, it's just like working at Hooters, except you wear a little less clothing."

I turn to look at Jean like she's a genius. "You're right. I didn't see it that way. Yeah, it is just like working at Hooters. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Jean says.

"Nothing," I parrot. Is this starting to sound not-crazy or have I gone crazy?

"We're really lucky with the timing. They don't usually have vacancies because the job pays so well, but they just had a bunch of girls quit and now that it's party season, they're overwhelmed and understaffed. An opportunity like this doesn't come often." Jean levels her gaze at me. "So, you're in, right?"

"No, wait. I mean, give me some time to think."

"The party's tomorrow night. I know you're not working tomorrow, so it's perfect."

"Tomorrow?" "Yeah. That's why they urgently need girls," Jean says.

"Are you sure there won't be anything...weird?"

"Well, depends on what you consider weird. Knowing you, you're probably worried about safeguarding your precious virginity." Jean rolls her eyes.

"It's not precious, Jean. It just hasn't happened yet. That's all."

"Okay. Whatever. Since we'll basically be walking around in our underwear, talking to men, some of them are probably going to try something. Like, you might get offers. But there's security."

"To be honest, I do know a couple of girls who have actually taken the men up on their offers. They did it out of their own free will and they got paid really well. These men are super rich. If you're interested, you may be able to charge a premium for your virginity." Jean grins and raises one eyebrow.

I frown. That seems seedy as hell.

"Don't worry, it's a high-class event at some swanky private house. Important people will be there, people who don't want to risk their reputations over some scandal with regular girls like us. Why bother when they can date supermodels?"

"That doesn't sound too dangerous," I admit.

"Of course not. I wouldn't drag you into dangerous situations." Jean pauses when she sees the look I'm giving her. "Okay, maybe once or twice I've tried, but you're too smart to get involved in something dangerous. I can tell you already think it's worth trying. Believe in yourself," Jean says, emphasizing the last sentence like she's some motivational speaker.

I smile, but I still have some doubts. "How did you even hear about this?"

"A girl I know used to work for the company." Jean often comes to me with outlandish stories and opportunities from her many friends, so her answer doesn't surprise me.

"And you trust her?"

"Yes. A-hundred percent. She's a sweet girl. She said she'd do it herself if her boyfriend wasn't getting all insecure about it. I've always wondered how she could afford all her designer bags and shoes without rich parents or a well-paying job. It all made sense when she told me about this job." Jean speaks with confidence.

She may be spontaneous to the point of recklessness, but she's a good judge of character. I know I can trust whoever she trusts.

"Okay, let's do this." My heart pounds in my chest. I feel like I'm watching my own body from the outside as the words slide out of my mouth. I never thought I'd get this desperate.

The idea of parading my half-naked body in front of strange men sends a shiver down my spine, although, to my surprise, I also feel some pleasant flutters in my stomach.

I can't afford to overanalyze anything. I just have to keep trucking, do whatever I have to do to keep Jason and myself safe and healthy.

If I don't come up with the $50,000 I owe Sal Marino soon, he's going to hurt me-or worse, Jason. And I can't let that happen, not even if I have to whore myself out.