Marlin had wound a story for Lucy the day they met Shorty. He’d told the man the truth about his running away, but Lucy had kept tight lipped and silent. Marlin had stepped in and bluffed for her. Shorty knew it wasn’t the full truth, but he’d bought the stuff about her being a run away. It made sense. She looked like a skinny rat at the time - fourteen and scared.
Now six months down the track, she wished she’d been able to scream in Shorty’s face about how brilliant her parents were and if she’d had the choice, she’d still be living with them, loving them…and having them love her back. But she didn’t have a choice and so she stomped to her room, pulling off the dark wig she’d been wearing most of the day. Scratching her itchy scalp, she was grateful for the fact she could just look like herself for the evening heist. Popping into her ensuite bathroom, she quickly took out her brown tinted contacts, brushed her hair until it sat straight and shiny down her back, then returned to her room to pull on a pair of black trousers and a crisp white shirt with a Sorrento logo emblazoned on it. Shorty had laid it out neatly on the bed for her. She scowled at the black apron she’d have to wear. She was so over waitressing.
Some days she wished it were just Marlin and her again. But the unfortunate truth was that Shorty had been a saving grace. He’d put them up in his flash loft apartment, which he didn’t own or pay rent for. Lucy still didn’t know how he pulled it off, but he had some con running and the doorman thought he was a rich aristocrat from London. Lucy and Marlin were his niece and nephew on his mother’s side…again, how the doorman bought it was beyond Lucy some days. The poor guy had blinders on when it came to Shorty, but Lucy couldn’t complain. She had her own bedroom, she could shower every day and eat three square meals. She’d never felt so healthy before.
Shorty was teaching them the finer arts of conning and they were pulling off hundreds of dollars worth of heists. All short cons, but higher cash. Shorty wanted to get into long conning and was easing them into it. Hence the waitressing. Lucy had three jobs. Two were at high-end restaurants. She’d had to lie and say she was eighteen to get the jobs, but Shorty had slipped a few hundred dollar notes here and there and she’d got the work. Her job while working was to spy out potential marks. They’d pulled off several scams, one of them scoring her nearly two thousand dollars. Shorty had snatched the wad of cash out of her hand straight after the con and put it into their pool of money. She’d quit work the next day and moved onto another expensive restaurant with a new look and identity. She was up to her seventh waitressing gig in three months and soon they’d run out of fancy restaurants.
This evening she was going to her third job, a hotel in town that catered to the wealthy. She served drinks and nibbles to the lobby patrons. Shorty had the perfect mark ready to go. Lucy had spotted him a few weeks ago and soon figured out that he was a Thursday night regular. But as usual, without any kind of warning, Shorty changed the plan, so Lucy was stuck going to work on a Tuesday, when all she wanted was an hour long shower and bed.
*****
Shorty dropped her off around back, giving her time to get ready while Marlin got into position. She waltzed through the kitchen, greeting the staff quietly. She liked that she didn’t have to put on a big show at this job. This was the closest to being Lucy she got - no contacts, no wigs, no accent, no brash smiles or fake laughter.
“Hey Sarah.” Mark, the barman, grinned at her. “I didn’t know you were working tonight.”
Lucy pushed a smile over her lips. “I needed the extra work.”
“Still saving for that car, huh?”
“If only my parents weren’t so tight.” She chuckled. “I want it for the summer and I’m running out of weeks.”
“You’ll get there.” He nudged her arm and winked the way he always did. She could tell he liked her. She kind of liked him too, but he was twenty-two and if he knew she was only fifteen, he’d probably freak out.
“It’ll be a great graduation present to yourself.” He grinned, making her feel even worse.
She took the glass he’d just wiped down and stacked it neatly on the gleaming shelves behind them. Straightening her apron, she grabbed an empty tray and glided around the bar. Picking up Mark’s perfectly made cocktails on the other side.
“Table eight.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the gaggle of giggling ladies by the window and raised her eyebrows.
“I know, I know. At least it’s not a bachelorette party or anything. I think it’s just a birthday.”
“Which one?”
“That little hottie in the pink.”
“The one who looks like a Barbie doll or the soft pink?”
Mark snickered. “The Barbie.”
“Got it.” Lucy pulled the tray towards her and balanced it on her hand. It had taken her a crap load of practice back at Shorty’s place to perfect the tray-balancing act. Shorty had gotten pretty riled at all the spilled drinks, but she had it down pat now.