Chapter 5 – An Unlikely Interview

"So," Huggy wants to know as his gaze goes from Amber to Gracie, "Are you two ladies legal with those pieces you're totin'?"

Both girls nod.

"Good. What about her?" He gestures at Melanie, who stands at the jukebox trying to find even one song she knows among all the rap and hip-hop selections.

Amber rolls her eyes. "Are you kidding? That one wouldn't pack a gun if you paid her."

"I might be paying her," Huggy points out.


At that moment Melanie finally makes her first pick, Walk on the Wild Side by Lou Reed.

Not her cup of tea, per se, but certainly appropriate for where she currently finds herself.

"First time at The Pits, lady?"

She looks up to see a man of about thirty standing next to her, a rather smelly white guy with bad teeth and a beer gut.

Biting back her revulsion, Melanie arches a brow at him. "Do I look like a regular here?"

"No ma'am, 'cause if you was you'd know the dress code."

"There's a dress code? In this place?"

The man smirks at her, pointing at a crudely-rendered sign next to the juke she hadn't seen at first.

A bra, with a red circle-slash drawn over it.

"Seriously dude? I don't think so."

Then, before Melanie can react, and with Amber too far away to help, there's a flash of steel, several well-placed slashes, and her assailant reaches into the front of her dress.

And just like that, she conforms to the dress code.


"I can't believe you guys set me up for that," Melanie huffs, her face still flushed and her boobs bouncing freely under her dress, which Amber – her supposed friend – won't let her button any higher.

Behind the bar, Turkey hangs her bra on the wall, and to her dismay Melanie sees several others already on display.

What the hell, she thinks. At least mine didn't go down alone.


"How'd you meet Grover?" Gracie asks Huggy, sipping her third vodka-cranberry.

"I was in Chi-town, opening an establishment in that fine city."

"But how are you acquainted?" Gracie persists, her curiousity still getting the best of her. "William didn't tell me."

Huggy, knowing full well that Grover's son and Gracie know each other, and hoping to distract her from her line of questioning, arches a brow in feigned surprise. "You've met met William?"

"Well, sure. We're sort of engaged."

Now his other brow goes up, this he hadn't known. "Damn, girl. That go over well with the natives?"

"I'm a native," Gracie says, bristling a little. "And you still haven't answered me."

"About what? Knowing Grover?"

"That is what I asked you. You keep changing the subject."

Huggy, for the first time, looks a bit evasive. "Our dealings were, shall I say, of a confidential nature."

"Of a criminal nature, more likely," Melanie mutters, earning her a nudge from Amber and a glare from Gracie.

"Look, you," the island girl says. "I don't know about this guy," - she nods toward Huggy - "but my future father-in-law isn't like that, he's honest and decent, and you need to shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you."

Amber, despite totally understanding Gracie's anger, puts a restraining hand on the other girl's arm.

"Gracie, stop. I know why you're mad, but she's my friend. I can't let you hurt her."

Gracie looks at Amber a long moment, then shrugs and says no more.

And now Huggy, who's been watching their byplay with great interest, re-enters the conversation.

"Okay, let's get down to business. I can offer you ladies a $200 a week draw, plus expenses, plus the apartment upstairs for just the cost of your utilities." He looks from Gracie to Melanie and grins. "Try not to get blood on my carpeting."

"You mean we're hired?" Amber cries. "That's so awesome!"

"Yes, sweetheart," Huggy replies, smiling at her. "You ladies are now under my wing." He glances around at them. "Any questions?"

"Well," Gracie says, "we need a better name for ourselves." She hesitates, then finishes her thought. "Turquet and Brown makes us sound like an accounting firm."

Melanie looks from Amber's almost see-through blouse to Gracie's skimpy bikini top, then down the front of her dress at her own unfettered breasts, and can't help herself.

"The Nipple Patrol," she blurts out, and the other two girls – not to mention her new boss – almost choke on their drinks.

"That'd be a helluva sign," Huggy remarks dryly, and Gracie gives the blonde girl an almost-friendly look.

"That was classic," she says. "Maybe you an' me might get along after all." She turns to Huggy. "My choice was Huggy's Angels, but I like the nipple idea, too."

"How 'bout you, Miss Hutchinson?" Huggy asks Amber as he winks at her. "You got a name in mind?"

"Huggy's Angels works for me," Amber says, smiling warmly at him. "But y'know, before we take the job, there's something I've always wanted to say, and you know it."

"What's that, my dear?"

"I'm Starsky. She's Hutch."

THE END