The Dirty Exchange

Inés sat in the back of the cab, her leg bouncing nervously as the driver crawled through evening traffic. Her phone kept buzzing with increasingly frantic messages from Uncle Clifford.

[Where ARE you, girl?]

[Your VIP is getting IMPATIENT.]

[Red, I swear if you stand up my biggest spender...]

She'd left the mansion as quietly as possible, waiting until she heard Miguel's office door close before slipping out the side entrance. The last thing she needed was him seeing her leave and asking questions she couldn't answer.

But leaving unnoticed took time. And time was something she didn't have.

The cab finally dropped her off three blocks from P-Valley at the 24-hour café, her usual changing spot. In the cramped bathroom, she carefully positioned her red wig over her blonde hair. The transformation never got easier. Every time she looked in the mirror and saw Red staring back, a piece of Inés died a little.

She added a baseball cap over the wig for the walk from the café to the club. No one could know what was underneath the disguise. Not Uncle Clifford. Not the other dancers. No one.

Six months ago, when she'd first applied to P-Valley, she'd worn a shorter red wig and brought a fake ID with a different name and age. Thank God she looked older than twenty-one. Uncle Clifford had barely glanced at the ID before hiring her on the spot.

Now, as she finally rushed through P-Valley's back entrance, her phone showed 10:47 PM. Almost two hours late.

*Shit.*

♡ ♡ ♡

The changing room was chaos as usual. Dancers doing makeup, adjusting costumes, arguing over mirror space, and music thumped through the walls from the main floor.

Inés rushed to her locker, fumbling with the combination lock. Her hands were shaking from Miguel's interrogation, his mysterious phone call about an investigation, the panic of being this late.

"Well, well, well." A sharp voice cut through the noise. "Look who finally decided to show up."

Luz.

She was leaning against the makeup counter, arms crossed, her dark eyes glittering with malice. She wore a silver costume that left nothing to the imagination

Inés didn't look at her. "Not now, Luz."

"Not now?" Luz laughed, loud and cruel. "Your VIP has been waiting for over an hour, Red. Uncle Clifford is losing his mind. But of course, you don't care, do you? Because you're special."

"I said not now." Inés yanked her locker open and started pulling out her things... body oil, extra makeup, her good heels.

"You know what your problem is?" Luz pushed off the counter and walked closer. Her perfume was too strong and choking. "You come in here acting like you're better than the rest of us. Like you're not doing exactly what we're doing. Like your shit doesn't stink."

Some of the other dancers stopped what they were doing to watch. Drama in the changing room was better than anything on stage.

Inés took a deep breath and tried to focus on getting ready. She didn't have time for this. Not tonight.

But Luz kept going. "I want you to remember something, Red." The way she said the name dripped with venom. "A bitch will always be a bitch, no matter how innocent she tries to act. You can wear that mask and pretend you're some mysterious fantasy, but at the end of the day?"...

She stepped even closer, her voice dropping low and mean. "A stripper is as filthy as a garbage truck that parades the city. And that includes you."

Something inside Inés snapped.

She turned fully to face Luz, not backing down an inch. "Filthy?" Her voice was steady. "Is that what you tell yourself every night, Luz? Because from where I'm standing, filthy doesn't attract men like Uncle Clifford's new big spender."

Luz's face started to change color.

"Filthy doesn't make them book exclusive sessions," Inés continued, her words sharp as knives. "Filthy doesn't make them pay fifty thousand dollars to make sure no one else can touch me. Filthy doesn't make them come back night after night, asking for me and only me."

The changing room went dead silent. Even the dancers who'd been pretending not to listen stopped moving.

"You're mad," Inés said, stepping closer to Luz now. "You're mad that yet again, you couldn't bag a man like him. Mad that men like him won't even look at you twice. Mad that they walk right past you to get to me."

She tilted her head. "You know what I think? I think you're old news, Luz. Maybe it's time you retire and let the rest of us work."

Luz's entire body went rigid. Her face turned dark red. Her hand shot up, fingers curled into claws, ready to strike.

But before her nails could connect with Inés's face, the door flew open.

"LADIES!"

Uncle Clifford's voice boomed through the room, his heels clicked sharply against the tile floor as he swept in. His wig was platinum blonde and piled high. His dress was leopard print and tight.

His face was furious.

"What in the HELL is going on in here?" He looked between Luz's raised hand and Inés's defiant face. "And why is my star attraction still in the changing room when her VIP client has been waiting for over two freaking HOURS?"

Inés's stomach dropped. "Two hours?"

"Yes, baby. Two hours. One twenty whole minutes." Uncle Clifford snapped his fingers, his bracelets jangling. "He's been sitting in VIP Room Three, drinking expensive whiskey, checking his watch every two minutes, and asking for you constantly."

He put a hand on his hip. "So whatever this mess is"... he gestured dramatically at Luz... "it ends NOW. Red, get your gorgeous ass to that VIP room before I lose the best client this club has ever seen."

Inés froze.

Miguel had been here for two hours.

Which meant he'd left the mansion right after their meeting in his office. Which meant he'd driven straight to P-Valley while she was still sneaking out and changing. Which meant...

"How is that possible?" The words tumbled out before she could stop them. Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of the timeline. "He was at the house just now. How could he get here that fast?"

The room went completely silent.

Uncle Clifford's perfectly drawn eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

Luz's eyes went wide, then narrowed with sharp interest. "What house?"

Inés's blood turned to ice.

She'd said too much. Way too much.

"I just mean..." She scrambled for an explanation, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. "I saw someone who looked like him earlier. Near my apartment in the neighborhood. So I thought... I didn't think he could get downtown this fast from there."

"You saw him near your apartment?" Uncle Clifford's voice was softer now. Filled with concern and suspicious. "Baby, do you know this man from somewhere?"

"No." The lie tasted like poison. "No, I don't know him. It just... it looked like him. That's all. Lots of guys in suits look the same."

She was babbling. Making it worse.

"I need to go." She grabbed the last of her things from her locker and slammed it shut. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely work the combination lock. "I'm late. You said he's been waiting."

Uncle Clifford studied her for a long, uncomfortable moment. His sharp eyes despite all the makeup and false lashes saw too much. But finally, he nodded.

Then he turned to Luz, pointing one perfectly manicured finger with a long pink nail directly at her face. "You. Stay off Red's back and focus on securing your own clients. Because honey, nobody has requested your VIP services in weeks, and your tips are pathetic."

He snapped his fingers. "Maybe work on developing some new charms and skills instead of tearing down the girl who's actually making this club money."

Luz's mouth opened, then closed. Her face was murderous, but she didn't say anything back to Uncle Clifford. She knew better.

Uncle Clifford gave one last dramatic hair flip, turned on his heel, and walked out. His dress swished. His heels clicked. And the door slammed behind him.

Inés started to follow, desperate to escape before anyone could ask more questions, but Luz's voice stopped her cold just as her hand touched the doorknob.

"You slipped up."

Inés froze but didn't turn around.

"I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Red." Luz said slowly, her voice low and dangerous. 

Inés's hand tightened on the doorknob.

Inés's heart stopped.

"You've been stealing my shine for six months," Luz said, her words dripping with malice. "Taking my clients. Taking my money. Making me look like trash. But now I've got something you don't know I have." She laughed softly. "Information. And trust me, Red... I'm going to use it to destroy you."

Inés stood frozen, her hand still on the doorknob, her whole body cold. She couldn't respond. Couldn't defend herself. Couldn't do anything but stand there while Luz's threat hung in the air.

Finally, she forced herself to move. She opened the door and walked out into the hallway without looking back.

But Luz's words followed her like a curse.

*I'm going to figure out who you really are.*

*I'm going to destroy you.*

She'd just handed Luz the weapon that could end everything before it even started.