Chasing Sin

18

"Haven?"

I turn to see my boss, Mr. Hyseman looking at me, confused. He sets down a tray and walks over to me. I probably look like a deer caught in headlights.

"Mr. Hyseman," I just say, not sure what to think right now.

I might have only found out about this hidden casino in Lumiere's basement, but I'm pretty sure it's not exactly following proper protocol. I can't imagine how angry Hyseman will be at me for stumbling upon it.

"What are you doing down here?"

I'm still so caught off guard that I can't come up with a good lie. "I got a call... from my brother. He needed me to pick him up and said he was in the basement. The door was unlocked."

As I say this, I remember my reason for coming down here. Ethan's got to be around here somewhere, and he's apparently drunk. 

Hyseman is a balding, sort of creepy-looking guy, but he's just barely taller than me. If he weren't my boss, he wouldn't intimidate me at all. I can't hardly imagine him intimidating a kitten.

"Ah. I just figured Zara had sent you down to get drink orders," he says, shrugging. "You're not working tonight?"

I shake my head. He's not mad. He... thinks I should be working down here. With Zara.

Does Zara work down here, too? Is this the "shady shit" she claimed Hyseman does?

"Well, this is actually perfect. Now that you know about Greystone's operation, you can take her place. I've been thinking about who would cover for her while she's out," Hyseman tells me.

He's so calm, which shocks me. How can he not care that I discovered this illegal casino, hidden away in a fancy French restaurant? And what did he call it? Greystone's operation?

"You want me to work down here?" I ask him, my voice slow and unsure.

"Yeah. You'd make great tips as a hostess down here," he tells me. "And all you have to do is bring people drinks and give them some company if its wanted. Try not to ask too many questions."

As he explains it to me, it occurs to me that he wants me to work as a hostess in an illegal casino.

I can't imagine myself like that, wearing my skimpy hostess uniform and entertaining drunk gamblers as they bet a ton of money away.

However, I'm in no position to argue with him, so I just ask, "Have you seen an Ethan Walker? He's eighteen, brown hair-"

"Ethan? Yeah, of course. The kid's hammered, but he's at Miller's table." Hyseman points to one of the bright green tables to my right.

I don't say anything else. I just rush over to find my brother.

I spot him at a crowded table, the one I noticed earlier. "Ethan!" I shout, getting his attention.

"Braya?"

I cringe at hearing my real name, and the memories I work so hard to suppress come shooting back into my already spinning mind.

"You know not to call me that," I scold him, trying not to look as shaken up as I feel. Everything has been going so well here. I don't want everything to change yet.

"What are you doing here?" he asks me, and I scan the people around the table quickly. They don't seem to paying me much attention, thankfully. The dealer looks at me intently, probably pissed at me taking one of his players, but doesn't say anything.

He's surprisingly young, about my age, with a massive scar across the lower part of his forehead, cutting across his dark skin, through his eyebrow and down toward his cheekbone. He shakes his hair to cover it, and I look away after realizing I was staring.