rummaged through Al’s box and found outfits that matched Savana’s skirts. They looked more like bell-bottoms than anything else. Jamie and Savana stood in the corner of the club by the bar and surveyed their options. The old tactic had been to split up, to divide at first only to come together and conquer, but Jamie proposed they stay together. Security. Contact. Jamie Shivered and hit the floor.
The first couple of people they approached said no almost immediately. But it was early. She watched Savana work, the way she smiled and laughed and moved in for the kill was art. Jamie hadn’t said a word. Maybe it was better that way. The next man wanted to buy them drinks—a promising sign. Jamie ordered the fake shot made of juice but caught the scent of Savana’s tequila
Their customer couldn’t seem to make eye contact or steady conversation with her. Just Savana. He was nice enough, though. Some people were just awkward. They each sat on one of his legs and Savana leaned in to speak into his ear, place a hand on his chest, and giggle like they were sharing inside jokes. Jamie needed in. She needed this.
“Is it just me or is it a little loud in here?” she asked. The pair looked at her. She had lost the thread of their conversation and interrupted them. The man smiled up at her.
“Yeah, it is a little loud, I suppose.”
“What do you say we take a tour. We can show you the quieter spots.”
Savana gave her a hard look. She had jumped the gun. The quiet guys were always a challenge. If she pushed too hard too fast, she could spook him and scare him off.
“Just so we can get to know each other.”
“How much does that cost?” he asked.
“Nothing!” Savana said. “We can just change seats to get further away from the main speakers. Chat a little more.” She ran a fingernail along his collarbone.
“Yeah. Yeah, it is a little loud right here.”
Jamie got up first and walked ahead. Savana caught up to her and squeezed her hand—a signal to chill. But they’d been at work for an hour and hadn’t made anything. Jamie started the night in the red. If she and Savana could squeeze a double out of this guy, it would help.
They walked to the back lobby right in front of the VIP rooms. The music softened a little as the door shut.
“Where should I sit?”
“Anywhere you like,” Savana said.
“Would you like another drink?” the man asked. Savana said yes. When the waitress came by, she looked at Jamie.
“I’ll take another breezer.”
“And two shots of tequila,” Savana said. She always used this sing-song voice to order drinks.
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