Seven
For the Debt I Owe, Gotta Sell My Soul

Eloisa had been on edge all day. If she thought that knowing when Nacho was going to show up would alleviate her stress, she was wrong. Nor did it lessen when he finally gave her a time.

From Nacho: 6

The anticipation was almost worse somehow. Unable to sit still after work, and with no Hazel to distract her, she went for a run.

True to his word, Nacho was sitting on the stoop when she got back to her house.

"Hey," she greeted as she jogged up the steps, sweaty and out of breath.

"You should change your lock," he replied, watching as she fumbled with her house key. "It would take me five seconds to break into this place."

"Please don't?"

This was not the first time she had been given this advice, but she made a mental note to check the price of new locks as she pushed open the door. He followed her inside.

"Let me know how that works out when you get robbed."

"Technically," she corrected, bending down to take off her knee brace, "It would be burglary. But no one's broken in."

"That you know of."

They stared at each other, the words causing her skin to break out in goosebumps. Had that been a confession? She couldn't bring herself to ask. This was not, she reminded herself, a friendly visit. He was there for a reason.

"What should I wear?"

He sat on the couch, making himself right at home while he waited.

"Whatever."

With no idea what they were about to do, she took a quick shower, threw on a pair of dark jeans and a plain black shirt, and hastily reapplied her makeup. As she trudged down the stairs, she re-tamed her hair into a braid. Impeccably dressed as always in a button-up, sleeves rolled to the elbow, and dark pants, Nacho gave her a once over. When he said nothing, she assumed she passed.

He stood up and walked to the door, holding it open for her. "Let's go."

Her messenger bag smacked against her hip as she followed him down the street to where the van was parked. "Am I allowed to ask where we're going?"

He opened the passenger door for her. "If I said no, would that stop you?"

"Probably not."

He responded by slamming the door in her face. She didn't get her answer when he got in or even when he started driving. He was quiet for so long that she wondered if that was going to be it for conversation. Resigned to the idea, she watched the cars around them as they headed east. They passed so many people: single, friends, families, and everything in between, all of them oblivious to what was happening outside of their cars. She wished she was one of them.

"Have you heard of The Altar?"

"The strip club?" she asked, still half-distracted by people watching.

Her mom had been mad when it had gone up, complaining about it every time she drove past it on their way to the mall. "A waste of space," she'd scoffed. "And tacky to boot." It seemed the religious wordplay was more offensive than what happened inside. Nate had mentioned it a couple of times in passing since that was his beat.

"Yeah, it's supposed to be really sketchy th- oh."

The worst part was that knowing Nacho was involved wasn't even surprising. Every day seemed to bring new information. She wondered if that would stop and was exhausted by the idea that the answer was probably never.

"Here's the deal, Nancy Drew- you're gonna be my eyes and ears in there."

"Why?" It came out louder than she meant it to. She thought she'd be selling drugs on a corner somewhere. He didn't expect her to dance, did he?

"Don't worry about it." His eyes flicked briefly over to her before settling back on the road. "Matty thinks you're slinging for him, but you work for me. If anything seems off or weird, I want to know."

"Okay, but what do you mean by-"

He turned the van sharply into the parking lot of a small, squat building surrounded by hotels and restaurants. Eloisa pressed her lips together. She still wanted answers to about a thousand questions, but Nacho exited without a word. She nearly fell out of the van trying to keep up with him.

The sign above the door was, she had to admit, tacky. The Altar was illuminated in pink neon against a whiteboard background. Below was a picture of a pulpit with a cross, ready to welcome its flock home. There were windows around the building, but they were tinted so dark that it was impossible to make out anything inside. The bouncer at the door didn't even give them a second glance as they approached.

"Why not put it downtown or near the University?" She tilted her head. "Or even by the base. You'd get so much more business."

Nacho sighed, exasperated. "That's not our territory."

"Yeah, but this," she waved a hand at the sign. "Is sketchy as hell. If I was a cop, I'd be all over this place."

"That's what we pay your boyfriend for."

It was a simple statement, but it hung heavily between them.

"Nate's not my boyfriend," she objected, unsure why it annoyed her so much.

"I don't think he knows that," he replied before he pushed the door open.

She moved past him, keeping her head high. As she did, she caught a faint whiff of his cologne. Her heart raced. Stop it, she told herself, digging her nails into her palm. She concentrated on her surroundings instead.

The inside was lit by dim overheads accompanied by soft neon reds, pinks, and purples. There was a stage in the middle of the room with a shiny silver pole in the middle, and a velvet curtain in the back hiding whatever was behind. A DJ booth was set off to the side. At the front of the stage, tables were clustered close together, becoming more haphazardly placed the further away they were. There were a few semi-circular booths tucked against the back wall. Toward the back was an unimpressive bar, backlit blue and green to distinguish itself. Just behind it was a long hallway that stretched to either side.

Overhead a rock song played for the few patrons scattered throughout. It was something her dad would have listened to, she thought with dismay. A pair of women walked in behind them, chatting and giggling without care. They both said hi to Nacho, eyeing Eloisa with interest, before heading to the hall and turning right.

"Come on," Nacho said, touching her elbow and steering her toward the back of the lounge.

A brunette leaning against the wall in the hallway was nodding her head in time to the music though her mind seemed somewhere else entirely. This woman reminded her of one of the Manson girls with her long middle-parted hair and wide, glassy brown eyes. Even the silky flower robe she was wearing didn't tie her to the present.

"Hi, Jenna." Nacho flashed her a small smile. "Is Matty here?"

"Oh, hey, Nacho. Yeah, he's in the office waiting for you."

Eloisa took the chance to look down the right side of the hall. Private rooms, a handful of them, with heavy black curtains to section them off. A burly, grumpy-looking bouncer sat guard outside. On the left was a hall with a room on either side. One was hidden behind a thick wooden door.

The room they went into was an office, separated from the hall only by a beaded curtain. There was a desk with a new computer in the back. Two leather couches and a coffee table took up most of the room. A hookah was set up in the middle, and there were ashtrays and discarded baggies around the room. Eloisa tried hard to not think about what might have been in the tiny plastic bags.

The man sitting on one of the couches took a pull from the hookah hose and blew into the air at the same time that Eloisa took a deep breath. She inhaled the cloyingly sweet smell of apples and coughed.

"Damn, it's about time!" The man stood up. "Wassup, holmes?"

He was one of the whitest people she had ever seen, but he was decked out in an expensive t-shirt and baggy pants. His blonde hair was cropped close to his head and when he grinned at them, his teeth shone with a silver and diamond grill. He extended a hand to Nacho, who took it and allowed himself to be pulled forward for a backslap.

"This your new find?"

"Yeah. This is Lou," said Nacho. "Lou, this is Matty."

His eyes scanned her, appraising her the same way he might a pimped-out ride or a wad of cash. "Wassup, chica?"

"Hey," she said slowly before turning to Nacho. "¿Este tipo es de verdad? ¿Estás jugando conmigo? Puedo ver su ropa interior."

It was a dumb complaint, but this guy had to have been her age or older and his pants were lower than even her brother dared to wear.

The corners of his lips twitched. "No. El es de fiar."

"Everything cool?" Matty asked, rubbing his hands together with a slight frown.

"Yeah," Eloisa answered. "Cool."

"Tight. You can chill out front with Jenna for a few," he instructed. "She'll show you what's up."

She looked to Nacho for guidance, but he only motioned toward the beads. A clear dismissal. Again, Eloisa had so many questions and a sinking feeling in her stomach as she made her way back to the front.

"Uh… hey, Jenna?" she said to Jenna, who was nodding along to a more modern song that had started to play. "I guess you're supposed to show me around?"

"Hi!" Her face lit up. "You're the new girl Matty was talking about. I'm Jenna. But duh." She laughed. "You knew that. What's your name?"

Following Nacho's lead, she answered, "Lou."

"Lou," she said. "Dope. You're the new bartender, yeah?"

"Yeah?"

"Nice. You're real pretty, though, girl. You got long legs, I bet you're a great dancer."

Eloisa was a terrible dancer. Starr was always trying to get her to loosen up. Only when drunk was she able to let go and it was a mess to watch. Jenna reached down the front of her robe and produced a little green pill. Eloisa eyed it warily.

"Hey, do you want one? It's fine!" she offered "Matty's cool about it."

"Oh, uh, no, thanks?" she replied.

Jenna shrugged and popped it in her mouth then looped her arm through Eloisa's and led her toward the bar. The guy manning it was short and bulky with an unruly mop of dark hair and a heavily tattooed frame. He had a nice smile though and he turned it on them as they walked up.

"Hey, Jenna. Who's your friend?"

"Lou, this is Quinn. He'll be your buddy behind the bar."

His attitude changed as he sized her up. Less friendly, more competitive. "Fresh meat, huh? Where'd you meet Matty?"

Two could play that game, she thought.

"Through Nacho."

This earned her a grunt of respect.

Next to her Jenna beamed. "I gotta get ready. Lou, you wanna meet the girls?"

"Uh, I-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Jenna was leading her to the back again.

"What was his deal?" Eloisa asked quietly.

"Quinn? He's a greedy ass. Don't worry about him."

A loud bang came from the end of the hallway. There was a stool by the back door, but no one sitting on it now. Jenna steered them toward it and then banged once on the door. A rapid succession of several knocks came back in a pattern that must have made sense to Jenna because she pushed the door open a crack. The man on the other side was practically swimming in his clothes, but he was so skinny that most things must have appeared that way on him. His eyes darted between the two of them.

"She's cool," Jenna assured him.

"A'ight." His tongue ran over cracked lips. "Two, please."

Jenna swayed with the music as she reached down her robe a second time and produced two plastic bags. It was almost impressive, the number of things she could keep in there and Eloisa wondered what else she was hiding.

"It's eighty."

He fished four twenties out of his back pocket and handed them over. Eloisa watched as Jenna passed him the bags. He nodded at them both before disappearing.

"Was that- uh-" she stumbled over her words, unsure if she could bring herself to say the word meth out loud. She glanced again at the door, picking at her thumb with her ring finger.

Picking up on her discomfort, Jenna nodded. "So, we can only open the door if they use that knock- that's usually what Angel's back here for. The girls will come in through there after we open but everyone has a key. And, like, you gotta be careful, right? People out here are quick to rob you, so you only give them the bags when you get the money."

"And it's forty for a bag?"

Jenna beamed at her again. "Damn, you're all smart, huh?"

"Just a quick learner."

They stopped outside the door across from the office. Jenna continued her explanation, "Matty, Quinn, or Angel can explain more about how that stuff all works. I just do it sometimes before we open. The money goes to Matty at the end of the night and then we get our cuts. Sometimes if one of the girls brings someone in, they get a cut too."

The information should have been easy to digest, nothing about this seemed hard, but it threatened to overwhelm her anyway. She looked back at the beads, wishing Matty and Nacho would hurry up with whatever they were talking about. Unless she was supposed to stay here the whole night? And if that were the case, would Nacho stick around the entire time? And what if they were back there doing drugs? Did she want to get a ride home with Nacho after that?

Mistaking worrying for processing, Jenna patted her arm encouragingly. "You're totally gonna get this, girl." Then she opened the door.

The room was beautiful. There was a wall of mirrors, surrounded by an excess of counter space with chairs tucked underneath. Against the other side were two plush couches, a coffee table, and a TV. Tucked into the corner at the end were a set of lockers and a small fridge.

A blonde and two brunettes occupied the chairs that were out. The blonde was in the middle of doing her hair, and the brunettes were working on their makeup. All three were in various states of getting into costume for the night. Eloisa fought the urge to look away.

"Girls, this is Lou."

"Sage," the blonde introduced herself. She looked like a fairy, full-cheeked with a slightly upturned nose.

"Gia," said the brunette opening an eyeshadow palette. Her sequined yellow bikini top was a bright pop of color against her dark skin. Her hair hung in glossy barrel curls that framed her face.

The final brunette offered her a small smile and her name, Amber. She had freckles all over that she was attempting to cover with concealer. But her eyes were a captivating green standing out even more because of her wild, naturally curly hair. Eloisa thought she was beautiful.

"You're the new bartender?" Sage asked. "You came in with Nacho, right?"

"That's me."

"You look familiar." Her brown eyes swept over Eloisa, scanning her in a way that made her feel naked. "Did you go to Rio Grande?"

"No."

"You ever party at Sparrow's?"

Was that supposed to be a person or a place? Was this some kind of test?

"No."

Sage's eyes narrowed. "I know you from somewhere."

"Hopefully, you know how to make an actual fucking drink," Gia said, clearly over Sage's investigation.

"Eh, a thing or two."

"I like you already."

Eloisa found herself smiling despite how wildly out of her element she felt.

"Oh my god!" Sage exclaimed suddenly. "You're Ray's daughter, huh? Yeah. You have the same eyes."

Eloisa winced. How often had Ray come here? And what was she supposed to say to that? She wanted to distance herself as much as possible from him, regardless of his reputation there.

Amber and Gia whipped their heads around to look at her.

"No shit!" Gia exclaimed, giving her a deeper look. "Please tell me you're the one that decked Katrina."

Eloisa's grimace gave her away.

"Girl, don't be embarrassed. You did us all a favor."

Sage, Amber, and even Jenna nodded emphatically. Gia turned back to her reflection and began dabbing on purple eyeshadow.

"She loved acting like she was so much better than the rest of us because she thought she had a sugar daddy. Then her stupid ass went and quit thinking she was going to get some money from that cheap asshole after he died, no offense."

Eloisa shrugged it off. "We weren't close."

An approving nod. "Anyway, then she came crawling back like we all knew she would, and Matty told her to beat it."

Relief washed over her.

"So," Sage asked, her curious tone offset by a knowing smirk. "What's the deal with you and Nacho?"

Eloisa fought like hell to keep her face from showing any emotion. She wasn't the only one. Amber stopped mid-liner, watching her intently from the mirror.

"I needed the job, and he hooked me up. That it's. Seriously," she said, keeping the defensive edge out of her voice. Sage raised an eyebrow. Maybe not completely.

"That's what Amber said too," Gia teased. "And he makes sure to keep her in business."

Amber rolled her eyes, a hint of blush staining her cheeks. "He's nice to everyone."

"It's not like that," Eloisa insisted, not wanting to ruffle any feathers. "Seriously. It's just a job."

"Shame," Sage said, turning her attention to the curling iron on the counter. "He's so fine. And you're cute. Totally his type."

"Okay," Gia said, popping her lips to ensure the gloss was even. "How do I look?"

Eloisa, in an attempt to make friends, was overeager with her compliment. Gia threw back her head and laughed heartily.

"Babe, you can come hang back here any time. Seriously."

The conversation fell into a natural rhythm around her.

"Is it cool if I run out for a smoke break?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jenna said. "Go for it."

Eloisa practically burst out of the door. Behind her, the sun dipped below the mountains casting everything in dusty pinks and lilacs as night approached. The streetlights began to turn on, illuminating the few cars that were in the lot. She fished the pack of cigarettes out of the bottom of her bag and plopped down on the curb. As she shook one out, she noted that she would have to buy a new pack soon.

"Can I bum one?" someone asked as she lit the stick and inhaled. She glanced up to see the guy from earlier. He maintained a respectful distance but was looking at her cigarette with such longing that it made her want to cry.

"Sure." She shook out her last one and reached out to hand both it and the lighter to him before tucking the empty pack bag into her bag.

"Thanks," he said, full of sincere gratitude as he tossed the lighter back. She caught it and slipped it into a side pocket. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "Ain't seen you here before."

"Just started."

They observed one another as they continued smoking. Even in the fading light, she could see that his skin was sallow, and his face pimpled. As he brought the cigarette to his mouth, his hands were shaking.

"Hey," a second voice, this one familiar, said from behind them. She turned around to see Nacho leaning against the door. "Come back inside."

She stubbed out her cigarette, the taste of her final drag bitter in her mouth. With a wave at the guy, she went back in. She hoped she never saw him again.

Matty was sitting on the couch with the hookah lit. He blew an obnoxious sweet-smelling cloud in their direction then slid a piece of paper across the table to her. It was a schedule for the rest of the month. Her name was on every shift except for Sunday and Wednesday; her name and Quinn's were together on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.

"I get nights off?" The words were out of her mouth before she had time to think about them.

Matty laughed. "You think imma make you work every night, baby girl? Naw. This ain't that kind of gig, you know what I'm saying?"

Something occurred to her that upset her in a way she had not expected.

"I, uh- shit," she mumbled under her breath. "I'm going to need a week before I can start. At least." Two would have been better, and more professional, but she was already asking for a lot. She could tell by the way Nacho's jaw tightened.

"Why?" he asked sharply.

"I have to give notice at my other job- the one at An- the bar? A week, I swear." She pleaded with her eyes, afraid to say more and jinx it.

He sighed. "Matty, is that cool with you?"

"Sure, man. Whatever's clever."

"Thank you."

"Uh-huh." Matty exhaled a plume of smoke through his nostrils like a dragon about to breathe flames. "Thank you," he mimicked in a high-pitched voice then leaned back and laughed. "Nacho, where did you find this chick? She's a trip, man."