I was ready and waiting when Felix pulled up at our meeting point. There was no one else in the van, so I slid in the front seat, determined to patch things up.

“How's the night so far?” he questioned, flashing me an absent-minded smile as he checked his mirrors to rejoin traffic. I told him all about Jack Stack, and we chuckled together over his antics. After a pause, I asked him, “Is Rehka out tonight?”

“Yeah, she’s on the North run with Thom.”

“Oh, I was just wondering how the bet was going tonight.”

Felix stiffened, and didn’t reply. The air in the van got distinctly icy, and I was confused. Apparently I’d said something wrong. Again.

The silence after that was so pronounced, I was afraid to say anything else. Watching the emotions play across Felix was like watching an emotional-weather forecast: mostly stony with occasional flashes of anger, followed by resignation. Then disappointment. Then back to stony. We drove a long time in silence.

We were nearly to my drop-off point when Felix said, “I don’t know anything about that.”

That was so laughably untrue that I just stared at him in disbelief. He pulled the van over and silently handed me my list for the run.

“Ok, well I guess I’ll see you later then,” I mumbled.

“Yeah, I’ll see you back here in an hour fifteen,” he said, quietly.

I got out of the van, and he pulled away. I couldn’t believe how fast I’d managed to ruin the good vibe between us. I don’t know what it was about the bet that had triggered him, but it was really, really bad. And I felt guilty for asking him; I just thought all the drivers were in on that, like Thom said. I made a mental note to ask Meredith about it, when I saw her next.

¤ ¤ ¤

I was standing outside the Blue Saloon. It was my third-to-last bar of the run, and it was right next to a bar with a white neon sign with the P blown out; apparently it was now a "Sorts Bar."

I felt pleasantly light-headed. My outfit had sparked several flirtations and offers of free drinks, but each time I demurred as elegantly as possible. At my last stop, however, I’d snuck in a shot. It had given me a few moments of liquid courage, but I felt a bit guilty for drinking on the job. Sure, this job entailed strutting, sex appeal, swindling, haggling, late nights, and other dangers. But still, it was a job. And I would’ve hated disappointing Selene.

I thought of Selene’s chocolate brown eyes, and her classy but playful manner. I dreamed briefly if I could ever hope to be that cool and desirable. I guessed that was why Envy was one of the seven deadly sins; it had certainly wormed into my heart at that moment. And Lust, can’t forget Lust, I thought, as I felt a swift tightening of arousal at the quick thought of Selene, then Felix. Damn, that whisky shot was stronger than I’d realized. I put them both out of my mind and got back to work.

The Blue Saloon had a cramped interior, but was draped with thick red curtains at the door, and everything was antique and old-timey: the bar, the furniture, even the bartenders, who wore suspenders and jaunty hats. I liked it immediately.

After a nod from the bouncer, I started my circuit around the room. Off to my left I heard an excited, “Look honey, look! It’s a Tart! It’s one of Tawny’s Tarts!” This statement was punctuated with a cry of delight.

I turned in the direction of the noise after selling a candy bar, and flashed my new customer a huge smile. She clapped her hands and beckoned me over, through the increasing noise.

“Oh, dear, doesn’t she look absolutely delicious?” She put her hand on her boyfriend’s leg and gave me a mischievous look. They were both looking at me in the way that people look at you when they want to do something reckless and R-rated.

I forgot for a moment to be flustered, basking in the obvious appeal they both had for me, and I had for them. For a few heartbeats, my head raced wildly to the possibility of what this job could do for my sex life.

With great effort, I wrenched my thoughts back to the damn albatross around my neck. Damn fine whiskey, that was.

“Hey there, Tart fans. Seems like you know all about me, so you have me at a…disadvantage.” Oops. That was a bit obvious.

“Oh, sweetheart, we so wish we did have you at a disadvantage,” the man drawled in a southern accent, his gaze sliding briefly to his wicked companion,” but really, you are the one holding all the… goodies.” He finished by ignoring my tray completely, but lingering his gaze hungrily upon my legs.

“Well, that’s a relief. Because I have all KINDS of goodies to sell. I might even gift you with something, if you are nice.”

They conferred amongst themselves for a few moments, while I made eye contact with a few other patrons at the bar who were obviously waiting for me to go over and offer them something. I swiveled back, just as the girl stood to whisper in my ear.

“How about $50 for a cigar, a kiss with me, and your phone number?” she floated in my ear, not even shouting. Damn, that was hot.

“Everything but the number,” I shot back.

Mr. Charming pulled out a $50 bill and laid it on top of my cigarettes. I pulled off the tray and set it on their large oval table. They were both watching me, eager and impatient. She leaned toward me, and I mirrored her. Her face showed confusion as I broke from our dance to bend slightly and reach for her hand. Keeping my eyes on hers, I drew the top of her wrist level to my mouth, then left a long, sensuous kiss on her wrist, followed by a quick peck. Her lover howled with laughter at the look of defeat on her face. He slapped his knee and wiped a fake tear from his eye. I put the tray back on, picked out a cigar and clipped it for him, and tucked the $50 bill into my stash.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said coquettishly, crossing her arms.

“I’m such a Tart,” I said, winking and walking away.

He called out to me as I made my way across the room, “Worth every penny, dear! I will smoke this and think very juicy thoughts of you tonight!”

I worked through the rest of the folks at the bar, but I was getting a prickly feeling like I was running late again, and I could feel their eyes on me everywhere I went. I hurried towards the door, ready for some fresh air, when the bouncer caught me.

“I don’t usually let you girls in here, you know. But the patrons like you, so tell your boss to give the manager a call.” I was confused by his remark, as this bar was definitely on my list of places approved to go. I shrugged it off and made a note on my post-it to talk to Ransom later in the night.

The sports bar with the funny sign out front was quieter inside, but friendly. I had to switch gears to meet the drinkers on their playing field, shoving away the erotic rush I'd been riding at the Blue Saloon. Though they were mostly distracted with games on the giant TV, most of the patrons threw me an extra buck or two for smokes or gum.

So far, in sales, so good. But then I was really running late, so I hustled out and headed up the street to meet Felix at Evergreen. He was pulling up before I had time to begin at Evergreen — oops, I guess suggestive banter takes up more time than I’d realized. I didn’t feel too badly, though, as I’d made really good money off that exchange. Whew.

Felix seemed to have shaken off the awkwardness from when he’d dropped me off, and from his demeanor I could tell he didn’t want me to mention it —I was getting a distinct that-never-happened vibe — so we chatted about other things on our drive across town to the Haight district. I was feeling more confident now that I was returning to the same places from last night, and the excitement helped keep my sales personality alive while the boring transit parts were going on. Maybe that was why I liked it so much; you just never knew what was going to happen next.

Felix regaled me with a funny story about the original owner, Tawny, a gorgeous woman from New York with the coloring of a tabby cat: bright golden eyes, strawberry blond/curly hair, along with a sassy, loud personality. I realized while he was talking that I had seen Tawny on the training videos on my first night, and could picture her as he described one of the most famous stories.

“So Tawny had this huge van, right? It was painted kind of glittery gold, just like her coloring, and it had a big logo from the 80’s with the company name on it, TAWNY’S TARTS, in big letters. I mean, this van was ugly as all get out, and everyone knew exactly what it was about; she used to drive this van all over the place. It was always gasping and rattling— total piece of shit.

“She used to park it overnight, and always got parking tickets in the morning, because she would forget to move it, or some such thing. Who knows if she was passed out in the back, or slept in the office; things were different, it was more casual back then.

“She got so many parking tickets the van would regularly get impounded and sold. And instead of paying the parking tickets, which were a small fortune by then, she would go to the sale and buy back the van for less than the total of the tickets! I mean dirt-cheap! NO ONE wanted that van; they couldn’t sell it to anyone else. And Tawny, she would just flounce in there, scoop it back up, and be on her merry way. She did that more than a few times, I hear,” he finished, shaking his head and chuckling. He was totally amused at his own story, and I couldn’t help but smile at his energy, and at that gorgeous, easy grin.

Felix dropped me in front of Milk and handed me a longer list than I'd had last night.

“This is the Extended Haight run. It’s different from last night. You have a lot more time, but you are visiting almost double the places, and the distance between them is further. Most of them are here on Haight Street, but you will have to take a few detours to get to the others. I will meet you down the road at Masonic, in front of the Ben 'n Jerry’s. You’ve got about 6-8 blocks to cover, so you better get moving. I’ll see you in 1 hour and 45. Good Luck, Miss Daisy!” he said, tipping an imaginary hat at me and emphasizing the 'miss.' As soon as I was out of the van, he sped off.

I had no idea how I was supposed to manage flirting and interacting with other people when Felix was taking up so much space in my brain.

The run went very quickly, as Felix predicted, because I had to keep moving. After hitting all the bars from last night's list, I moved further on up Haight to Trax.

Trax was a strange experience. One man lamented to me for 5 minutes how he couldn’t buy a vintage Harley motorcycle because he had to make repairs for his tenants on his run-down apartment building; apparently he considered electricity and heat to be luxuries. If he thought he was going to get sympathy from me, he was mistaken. Disgusted, I headed out.

At Magnolia, a man spoke to me in a slow, barely audible fashion. When I leaned closer to hear him, he reached out and started stroking my hair. Creeped out, I cut my circuit of the place short and left.

Sunshine Coast, the last place on my list, was smoky from all the hookah tobacco. I didn't make any sales, but I wasn’t groped either, so I decided it was an okay place. It was amazing how fast your expectations could change.

A really nice girl from Texas came up to me to tell me I was “incredible, simply incredible." I thanked her, and headed out to meet Felix.

Felix pulled up on time, and I climbed into his van, blowing a curl out of my face as I sighed and settled in.

“How did it go?” he asked, checking his mirrors for traffic before he pulled away from the curb.

“Sales were no good, but it went fine, though I got groped by this — hey!” I said, startled, as Felix slammed on the brakes.

“What!? Tell me who groped you,” he commanded, looking angry.

“It was nothing. It was this guy in Magnolia, and he was stroking my hair. He was all weird and slimy, and I left right away. No big deal,” I said, thinking Felix was acting strangely. I looked over and saw he was taking deep breaths with his eyes closed.

Felix muttered to himself, “I have half a mind to have that guy thrown out.”

Assessing me, he took another breath. “Would you say that this was something I need to reach out to Ransom and the owner of the bar over?” he asked, giving me an intense look.

I was flustered that Felix was so protective of me, and confused by how something so common — it'd happened to me in bars plenty of times — became such a big deal in that moment. I mean, this kind of thing happened to women all the time. I’d gotten out of the situation quickly, and it hadn’t escalated. I struggled to interpret whether that was a personal or a professional response. His speech was all professional, but his eyes were showing me something more.

I made a quick judgment call and said, “No, really. It was no big deal.”

Felix took another deep breath. “Pale, listen to me carefully. First of all, the bouncers are there to help you. We have contracts with the bars that include situations like this. Anyone touches you, or bothers you in a way that interferes with you doing your job, you tell the bouncer, or you tell me. We will have a discussion with the owner, and maybe drop them from the list, depending on what happened. Do you understand?”

“Yeah. I’m glad to know there are some general rules in place when I’m in these places by myself. I had no idea.”

“Selene should’ve covered it with you,” he said, frustrated. “And while we are on the subject, if you ever get taken somewhere by a driver to ‘try a place out,' make sure you are with a good driver that has got your back, ok? I always look out for the girls in my care, but… well, not every driver is like that. ” He looked uncomfortable. “Just know that I’m here, and all you have to do is call, or text, ok?”

I stared at Felix, trying to get a handle on the conflicting signals he was sending. At the heart of it, I could tell he wanted me to do well on the job, to feel safe, and to choose my resources wisely. I felt warm at the thought of Felix feeling so strongly about me.

“Thank you,” I said. "I understand what you are saying. Truly, this was a minor thing. But I will be careful in the future.”

He smiled, relaxing his shoulders. We pulled into traffic in a comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts.