luxe (sebastian stan)

Three

"I don't understand why you would quit the club and not tell me!" Vanna shouted at me the next morning when I told her I wasn't working there anymore, "We could've quit together!" "Vanna, we still need money and I don't know how much this job is paying," I sighed, resting my forehead on my hand. We had been talking about the matter for about an hour and I was to the point where I was going to just spill the beans on the entire situation and see how Vanna would react.

Vanna threw her hands up in the air, "Where did you even find this job anyway? I thought you weren't even applying anywhere!" "I wasn't," I said, telling a half-truth, "Abram sort of forced this on me. He said it'd be good experience. I think he just wanted someone hotter and more compliant." I hated lying to Vanna, I really did. Her whole childhood and adolescence was built from lies and it fucked her up for a long time. I told myself it was for her safety, but I'm sure her parents told her the same thing.

"Vanna," I reached out to grab her hand and she didn't pull it back, "I didn't want to leave. I really didn't. But this is better. It gets us closer to what we want. It gets us closer to leaving the city." I prayed to whatever deity there was that this was true. "I know," Vanna whined, "But I just wish you would have given me a heads up." I smiled, "You would have quit on the spot and we would have both been fucked. We need at least one breadwinner in the household."

Vanna grinned mischievously, "So you're saying I'm the man of the house?" "I mean, I don't have a 12 inch strap in my closet," I got up from the table and walked out of the kitchen. Vanna gasped and smacked my ass as I walked past, "How dare you use my dream of being a peg master against me!"

Going into my room, I picked up my phone from where it was charging and opened it to my text messages. There was one from an unknown number that was sent last night and I didn't need to read it again to know what it said. It gave me the address and a time I needed to be there, which was soon. I didn't need to be a detective to know who it was from and what it could be about, but it didn't stop the pit of worry growing in my gut. I didn't know what to expect when I got there. Sebastian wanted a dancer and I had absolutely no dancing ability nor did I have the sex appeal to make up for my horrible dancing. It wasn't until after my breakdown upon realizing what I got myself into that I remembered how unqualified I was for this. To be fair, nothing could have ever prepared me to be a private dancer to a mobster.

Speaking of mobsters, what was Sebastian going to do when he found out he made a mistake? Would he snap his fingers and have his henchmen dispose of me in a nearby river? Would he beat me until I learned how to be the perfect entertainer? Or would I make one wrong move and he would wave me off and send to the club, and take Vanna anyway? Fortunately, I didn't have to think about the mafia before since it never came up in everyday life.

Unplugging the phone from the charger and grabbing a jacket from my closet, I left my bedroom and grabbed the keys to the Jeep when Vanna cleared her throat. "Lola?" Vanna called, her voice small. I turned to face her and saw that she was sitting at the kitchen table with a man I had never seen before. He was well dressed and covered in tattoos, sunglasses shielding his eyes from me. To the normal person, Vanna was fine, but I could tell she was barely keeping her composure.

"Are you Lola?" the man asked and I nodded. "Am I not driving there?" I asked and he shook his head. "Mr. Stan thought it better we take you there today. It's easy to get...lost." Sebastian didn't want me to skip or run away, of course. With that notion running through my mind, I felt that pit of worry grow stronger, but since Vanna was barely holding it together, I figured it was better for me to be the stronger one. "I completely understand," I nodded, placed the Jeep keys back where they were, and opened the door for the man, "Shall we?"

The man stood up and as he left the table, I watched as Vanna dropped her calm demeanor and stared at me, fear-stricken and demanding of an answer. "Later," I mouthed to her and I closed the door. God, I hoped there was going to be a later.