• 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 •

• 5 •

eneaj

"Thanks Max," I said quickly, hurrying into some dark green sweats as I stayed on the phone with them.

"No problem. I'll keep an eye on it."

Maxwell, a nice person who worked at the food truck stationed at the gas station across from my club, kept a neighborly eye out on Strapped for me when I wasn't there. Friendly and a few years younger than me, I could never have a bad impression of them. I remember when we first met and I was buying a burger from their truck.

But anyways, apparently...some people were outside the building early, already started on some drinking and throwing shit at my club. Thankfully there weren't any windows along that side, but still. I'd either need to call for my security to come in early or go down there to handle it myself.

"Something happened?" Yenvy asked, straightening her hair at the bathroom counter.

I was adjusted enough in the mansion, but the other bathroom was so far away...and I'll admit, after living in a much smaller home all my life, it felt a little daunting to be so far away from another person in the same residence. Like me and Yenvy were miles away or something. So we had slept in the same bed last night, but all my shit was still in my room.

"People actin' a plum fool down at my establishment."

"Is security there?" Yenvy frowned, stopping with her straightener or whatever it was.

"Not yet. Should I call security or just go there myself?" I asked her, biting my lip in thought. She shrugged, "I think it'd be safer to call security. What if something bad happens to you?"

"True," I sighed, "That'll be an extra twenty for them then, they'll be coming early. It's an hour before opening."

"It's fine. Maybe you need to start having security there a little bit before opening anyways," Yenvy suggested gently.

"The club's doin' well, but I don't like adding on extra expenses," I weighed out. "But the safety of my employees comes first- above the money. Cause I truly care." That felt right in my heart. "I'll call up the appropriate people and get shit handled. It should be all good before we head to Zinnias though. So don't worry about anything," I gave her a reassuring smile.

"Seems to me like you're doin' all the worrying. A couple unruly bitches ain't never had me afraid," Yenvy chuckled.

We finished getting ready, plus an extra thirty minutes of an outfit change for my best friend, before we hit the road and Yenvy drove us to the city.

"Lemme know which exit to take. And don't tell me no numbers, tell me the name of the exit," she said as we started to come up on where we needed to get off at.

"I got you. I got you," I laughed, "Chill."

"Maybe next time I can invite some more people," she suggested. "I don't think anyone in Houston really comes here and I know a lot of people. It could be good business and exposure."

"You have a lot of good business ideas," I contemplated, "And you do have a lot of social connections because of your employment. Out of anyone I know, you'd be the best candidate to help me with the lounge I'm scouting for in Dallas."

"Me? No," she shrugged, "I mean, it's extra income but I can't imagine me running anything."

"It doesn't have to be a lesbian lounge-

"No, no, that's not why ion wanna do it. I keep my personal life from my work life. I feel like I'd be more likely to come across a client in an environment like that, and as someone who practices law, that's the last thing that most of us would like. Anything bad could happen."

"You don't wanna live in fear because of your job," I reminded her.

"I've been followed by clients on multiple occasions. I think I'm-

"I don't want this to turn into an argument. Never mind," I said quietly.

The rest of the car ride was silent, our only communication when I gestured to the exit she should take and shortly after we were in Zinnias, pulling up to Strapped with tight expressions. Yenvy never liked to hear opinions. She didn't like hearing other's opinions or advice when she thought she was right. But maybe that was just the Taurus in her.

"We're good," she looked over at me with a chippy voice, after she parked.

I nodded, turning my attention on scanning the perimeter of my building to see if the disturbance had been dealt with. And it had been. My security guards stood where they stood, looking grim and serious and everything was in line and in order, the only way I could ever have things to be functional.

Yenvy straightened up herself a bit and applied a thin layer of shimmery gloss to her lips before turning to me again. "Ready?"

"Yea. I got a lot to show you."

Had Yenvy been to my club before?

Couldn't really remember if so. It must have been five times or less over the past few years, because I have no remembrance. Her eyes lit up as we walked inside, ignoring the looks we got for cutting the line- like I wasn't the owner.

Music pumped and girls played around on the poles. Bottle girls chatted at the bar. It wasn't really busy yet and customers were still trickling in.

"I'm gonna get something to drink," my best friend informed me, "Then you bring Illiora over to me unless she's dancing right away."

"She shouldn't be, not what Mrs. Smith told me when she was back there helping someone take their ear piercing out." Mrs. Smith was our house mom, and hella helpful for me and the girls.

"Drink's on me," I added, watching Yenvy's eyes dazed over as she glanced back at the bar.

"No, it's fine. I got it," she blinked, focusing back in on the moment.

I watched her, confused about her strange behavior, but heading to go get Illiora.

"Hey, Ill," I called out, looking through all the ass and waist and mid sections of various sizes and complexions across the dressing room.

"Wassup?" she came up from behind me, almost a stallion in her heels up from her 5'5 height, an outfit that looked like black straps across her petite curves and dark makeup lining her face making her look like a seductress.

"I brought Yenvy with me. She's down at the bar waiting to talk," I nodded. I took her in. "I'm glad you were able to get things together for tonight. I know you're going through some things."

"Nobody knows what I'm going through...what I've seen," she got a distant look in her eyes similar to my best friend, pain in them unlike Yenvy's dazed expression.

"I hope she can help. If not, we're both here for support," I laid a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know if I'll live long enough for support," she told me weakly, walking off.

My eyes found Mrs. Smith's across the dressing room, my brows crinkling with worry.

What do you think is up with Illiora?
How do you think Yenvy can help?
Is something up with everybody?
What do you guys think about Maxwell?