Page 10 of Bourbon Sins
Chapter Five
“A Little Party Never Killed Nobody”
GOLDIE
A cold chill ran through my body once I recognized the voice that told me I was a beautiful artist. I turned around to catch a glimpse of the mysterious man from the blackout booth, but I was too late; he was lost amongst a sea of tourists watching a frozen man on a ladder.
I looked down at my watch and realized if I wanted to be ready to go before Carlos arrived, I better get packed up and moving. I stood from my chair and started packing up all my supplies when I saw a black business card on my side table. At that instant, the night from a week ago flashed through my mind. I received the same kind of card that night, but forgot to look at it since it was dark and I was consumed by getting home and getting ready for Rex.
I grabbed the card and took a closer look at it. It was thick paper with a matte finish, but the font was lifted and shiny. “Jett Girl” was spelled out under purple lettering and right under it was my name. I turned the card over and saw a phone number lining the bottom of the card . . . that was it. I scrunched my nose, trying to figure out what the hell a Jett Girl was, but was at a loss. So instead, I grabbed my phone and did a Google search, but came up short. I tried Googling Jett Girl, New Orleans, but nothing, only endless pictures of fighter jets appeared.
Not wanting to waste any more time trying to figure out what the damn card meant, I headed back to my apartment with all my shit in tow. Thankfully, Jackson Square was in the heart of the French Quarter, along with my apartment, so I didn’t have to walk too far.
As I walked up the rickety stairs of my apartment that hovered over a souvenir shop, I heard moaning coming through the walls. Thinking it was our neighbor getting it on with another one of his girls, I walked into the apartment and was welcomed by Lyla pole dancing a giant black man’s dick.
“Shit,” I muttered as I covered my eyes, sent my apologies with a slight wave, and ran back to my bedroom. Mortification covered my cheeks as visuals of Lyla bouncing up and down on a massive cock ran through my head. I did have to give the girl credit, she was taking his pounding like a champ, or at least it looked like it.
Ignoring the horrendous cries of sex in the other room, I dug around for my apron and pulled out the card that I stuffed in there a week ago without giving it a second thought. Right away I noticed it was the exact same card as the one I received today. What was really confusing was that it said my name and my name wasn’t written . . . it was printed! Who the fuck does that?
Creeps, that’s who.
I tossed the cards on my dresser and started getting ready for the night. I took a quick shower to wash off the sweat I accumulated while sitting out in the sun and made sure to wash my skin with a potent coconut scent, since I preferred to smell myself over the sweaty men in the club.
As I walked back to my room, I nearly lost my towel when I saw Lyla sitting on my bed, waiting for me.
“Sweet Jesus. You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry about that,” Lyla said as she put lotion on her long brown legs. My lotion. “You came home early today.”
“Clearly,” I remarked, as visions of Lyla riding the big black man flowed through my mind. “Sorry about . . . you know . . . earlier.”
“Not a problem,” she said, as if she always had people walking in on her.
“Looked like you were having a good time,” I said awkwardly.
“He has the biggest dick ever.”
“Yeah . . . I saw that he was packing. I would say that I was jealous, but the way you’re sitting has me thinking I should be grateful I didn’t just fuck a tree trunk.”
Lyla laughed and agreed, “Yeah, I’ll be hurting for a while. Probably not one of my best decisions. So, why are you home early?”
“Carlos wants to play pool and get some drinks before our shift. You in?”
“Hell yeah!” Lyla got up and went to my dresser. “Can I borrow some . . .?” She didn’t finish her sentence as she reached for the black cards I’d set down, spun around, and held them up so I could see. “Where the hell did you get these?”
“I, uh . . . they were dropped off, I guess.”
“Dropped off where?” Lyla was practically climbing down my throat looking for answers.
“At the Castle and while I was drawing today. What’s the big deal?”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” She looked down at them and then gasped. “They fucking have your name on them, Goldie.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of creepy, don’t you think?”
“You have no clue what these are, do you?”
“Does it look like I have a clue?”
