Katie swiped tears from her face. “What if they are?”
“Once we find those babies, we can cover them or break the lenses so they can’t spy on us.”
“God, no.” She shuddered. “Don’t say that. Don’t even think it.”
“Why not? They can’t read our minds.”
She clutched her throat. “Yes, they can. It says so in the handbook.”
Megan hadn’t gotten that far and figured it was pure BS. Like a guy pretending he liked a woman to get into her panties and then taking off once he had. Males had perfected gaslighting women long before the beauty industry came along and added their toxic message. “How about we test it?”
She shook her head so quickly, her cheeks flapped.
Megan figured if Katie could have sunk beneath the floor, she would have. This was so damn wrong even for Hell.
Fuming, she directed her thoughts to Racan, Vespar, and Andros.
Proud of yourselves for making her cry? Do you feel like big men now, taking on a woman half your size with no power to fight back? Does that turn you on? You should be ashamed of yourselves. I am. And you know what? I’m not afraid. Do your fucking worse. You’ll never break me.
A glass shattered.
Megan flinched.
Katie’s legs buckled, sending her downward.
“Easy.” Megan pulled her back up and prepared for further fallout: the ceilings and walls collapsing, fissures appearing in the floor, the doors flying off their hinges.
Didn’t happen.
Everything was as it had been, except for Cecil. He’d broken a glass.
She comforted Katie. “Don’t worry. It’s not Andros or the others. Cecil’s having a tantrum.”
When the room had jolted earlier, plaster had fallen in a drink. The liquor must have splashed on his bow tie. Three-fourths had dissolved.
Delighted her experiment had worked, she shook Katie gently. “They can’t hear our thoughts. Believe me, I just had a whopper and Hell didn’t rain down.”
Katie stared. “They lied to us?”
“If they wrote the stupid handbook, hell yeah. What guy doesn’t bend the truth? Think whatever you want. They can’t do shit about that. Your thoughts are yours.”
She perked up, then pulled in her shoulders. “What if you’re wrong and they’re waiting for the right moment to ambush us?”
That was always possible, but only when it came to women. Like Giselle waylaying her earlier. “Guys don’t have that much control. They don’t plot. They react. If anything was going to happen, it would have by now.”
“Are you one hundred percent sure?”
The guys didn’t strike her as Machiavellian. “Tell you what. If I’m wrong, I’ll not only give you all my minutes, I’ll take half your shifts, too.”
She gripped Megan’s biceps. “Wow. Should we tell the others?”
She wanted everyone here to relax as much as they could. Except for Giselle. Megan worried she’d tell Andros, Vespar, and Racan, which might lead to re-education sessions to keep the servers believing the handbook crap. “How close are you to Giselle?”
Katie’s face puckered as if she’d tasted something bad. “I avoid her.”
“Do the others here feel the same?”
“Uh-huh.”
Sounded good. Still, they had to be judicious. “First, let’s tell the sweet women, like you. I’d definitely leave Sapphira off the list.” She was the one who’d killed her husband. “As far as the guys here are concerned, they shouldn’t know shit, especially Cecil. If you or anyone else lets them in on what we’ve discovered, they could use it against us.”
“I won’t say a word and the others won’t, either, I promise.” She crossed her heart. “You’re changing things here, aren’t you?”
Someone had to. “I’ll try.”
Until she found her way out.
Megan’s pay and downtime arrived simultaneously. Unlike the manic activity in the bar, things proceeded far slower at the disbursement window.
Why not? We’re on our own time now.
The line for the cashier, or whatever his title was, stretched down the hall, nearly to the office door, Vespar, Racan, and Andros inside.
Their deep voices rumbled. One laughed.
The rich sound pissed her off.
More chuckling.
Her nipples peaked, but she still raged at their nerve. While they enjoyed themselves, she and the other servers waited like prisoners for crappy pay. One lousy token despite the work they’d done.
Someone tapped her shoulder.
The beautiful black woman. She must have been a model on Earth. Kindness shone in her dark eyes. “Hi, I’m Jahzara.” Her voice bore a faint South African accent.
“Megan.”
Jahzara smiled. “Katie told me about you.” She glanced around before pressing her mouth to Megan’s ear. “Thanks for what you found out when it comes to our thoughts.”
“My pleasure.” The line inched ahead. “You don’t belong here, either, do you?”
Her perfectly plucked eyebrows drew together. “We shouldn’t talk about that.”
“But you want to, right?” Megan gestured her closer. “Keep your voice down and we’ll be fine.”
“You’re sure?”
She wished they’d stop asking her that. “It’s so noisy in the office and the club, I doubt anyone can hear us out here unless we speak normally, which we won’t. Remember, the guys in charge aren’t all-powerful, no matter what they say. If Satan was, wouldn’t he have taken over Heaven by now?”
Astonishment slackened her features. “I never thought of that. Or why he’d have to trick some people into coming here. Why not just kidnap them or whatever?”
“Exactly. It’s a con job, like men’s supposed superiority. Throughout history they’ve called women the weaker sex. Yeah, right. I’d like to see one of them have a baby. They only tout that crap because they’re afraid to compete and lose. They’re hoping once a woman gets a chance to soar, she’ll be too intimidated to try. Don’t believe the paternalistic line. Ever.” She tapped Jahzara’s wrist. “Why are you here?”
Her eyes grew wet. “I was only trying to protect Mama.”
“From your dad?”
“Our landlord.” Her mouth quivered. “Giving him rent money wasn’t enough. He wanted more and kept bothering her, saying she was pretty and could find another way to pay him. She wanted nothing to do with what he suggested and told him so. That last time, he wouldn’t listen and I had to stop him before he hurt her, so I—”