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times were fading into the past and behind her. Whatever the future would be, it wouldn’t be anything like the past.
    She thanked him for the seat and for the whisky. He paused a moment, letting it hang. Like he was looking at it. Then he made an acknowledgement with a cock of his head. It seemed elegant somehow. “So,” Angelica asked him, “Is this a brothel too?”
    His voice was hard and even, “Asking questions, especially questions around business is a dangerous sport in these parts.”
    She wanted very much to know where ‘these parts’ were, but she figured that whatever she wanted answers for, she better find them for herself, and be very discrete about it.
    There was a knock on the door. He told her, “Wait here.”  
    She said, “Hmm. Should I postpone my drive to Acapulco? Skip the flight to Rio maybe? Okay, you know what, I’ll wait here.”
    He looked back at her from the door, “Help yourself to more bourbon if you want it. Seems to do you good.”
    As he left she watched his tight ass roll in those leathers. After that she did take another shot of bourbon.  

Bogart was away for some time, and as well as the noise from the bar there were sounds of boots and boxes and animated talk among the bikers. Through the door and the thin, wood walls Angelica heard talk of ‘shipment,’ ‘packaging’ and ‘cut.’ Also there was mention of a ‘city alderman,’ either in the bar or coming to the bar.
    When he returned, Bogart said, “Angelica, I hope you’re going to be happy here and do well. I hope we’re both going to do well. But make no mistake, I’m not your knight on a white steed. You’ll be working here, just like you would have been with Jake.” He looked at her, hard over his shot glass. “That’s the way it is.”
    She said, “There’s one thing.”
    He said, “Your sister. I know we’re going to get to that. You think Jake was thrown by your, ‘Oh, I got to call her’ routine? Wondering about her test scores? It was quick thinking, woman, but you may have overplayed it.”
    “Yeah, I thought about that, too. But I think he bought it. He was too busy showing off to you, Bogart.”
    “I see your situation. But you cost me dear, woman. You want me to go back and bargain with Jake for another girl? Forget it.”
    She looked hard into his eye, “Okay, look. I’ll do whatever you want, alright? You want me to fuck some guy for you, no problem. Sleazeball, dirtbag, don’t matter. You want me to struggle and pretend to fight back, you got it. Fists, nails, teeth, whatever. Act like I never did it before? Sure. Two guys? Three? Bring ’em on. I’ll make you money, I’ll sweeten your deals, I’ll help you do exactly whatever you want, American.”  
    She looked at him long and hard. She wanted him to see that she meant it and that she could do it. She stood and took a bite of the bourbon. What few fragments of clothes she had left were hanging in rags. Her skin glistened, she breathed hard and her eyes blazed as he looked her up and down.
    He saw a woman in shape, a woman with a woman’s body and a woman’s passion. A woman with a fire in her belly. He saw a woman who meant what she said.
    They looked at each other a while. Her, trying to persuade him. Him? Who ever knew what that man was thinking? Everyone around Bogart knew that whoever thinks they know what Bogart is thinking, they’re usually heading straight for an ugly surprise.  
    Angelica’s voice was low and husky. She said, “I’ll go back into the bar right now. Grab two drunks and a psycho. I’ll do all three of them in here, right in front of you. You can put it on fucking YouChoob, you hear me?”
    He chuckled. That was a rarity. “Angelica, you are some kind of a woman. No, do not go back to the bar and do not drag three random scumbags in here. You’re going to work alright, but you aren’t for the scrotes. Well, not the scrotes in the bar at any rate. You’re strictly for the high-class