“I don’t know.”
Ross motions for me to pour him a drink. I take some whisky from the shelf behind me and pour it into a glass. Ross knows very well that this is the best I can do, apart from uncorking beers. I still don’t understand why they allow me to work in this club.
“It seems to me that our lawyer is doing quite well.”
Ross is alluding to the information I provided earlier. I called the kids a couple of times—or maybe a dozen—to make sure everything was going well. I would have loved to be there when Rowan arrived to help him settle in and reassure the kids, but I couldn’t ask for another shift change. I’ve asked Taylor, the club owner, for too many favours already, and I’ve a feeling he’s starting to think of another way for me to repay him. If you know what I mean.
Oh. That’s why I’m still working here.
Maybe it really is time to look for a new job, as Rowan strongly suggested, and as the judge so unceremoniously ordered me to do.
I still can’t believe I could have lost the children like that, with the snap of a finger.
“And what are you going to do about the night arrangement?” Ross asks allusively, sipping at his drink.
“Well, there are not a lot of alternatives,” I point out as if he had never seen my flat before.
“So you’ll be sharing the sofa bed?”
“I suppose so… Or maybe I should offer to sleep in the armchair.”
“Why would you do such a stupid thing?”
“Well, we’re not a real couple to begin with.”
“Irrelevant details.”
“Besides, he’s doing me a favour, a big favour. It seems the least I can do is let him take the bed. Don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think so. On the contrary. I think you should use the situation to get to know each other better.”
“By getting to know each other, you mean sexually, don’t you?”
“I had no other viewpoint in mind.”
I laugh. It’s a good thing Ross came to the club tonight, even though there are no shows scheduled. His good humour always helps me to see things from a less catastrophic perspective.
“What should I do, Ross?” I ask him, now serious.
“Do you really want an answer from me, or was that a rhetorical question?”
I sigh heavily, then rest my elbows on the bar and let my eyes wander around the semi-darkened room of the club. It is a quiet mid-week evening, with no shows or private events. A normal night in a club, where people go to have a drink or a chat, I think. What’s wrong with working here?
Oh, right. Maybe the fact that my uniform consists of a pair of shorts and a bow tie. And that the shorts are so tight and skimpy that you can't even wear underwear.
“Oh hell!” I say aloud, straightening up immediately.
“What’s going on?’ Ross asks in alarm.
“The pants. I forgot the pants.”
Ross bursts out laughing.
“I mean, I forgot that I sleep… Um… without.”
“Are you telling me that you sleep naked and I just found out?”
“I can’t sleep with my clothes on. I need to be able to move and feel the sheets slide over me.”
