Free SELFLESS by Lexie Ray

Cocoa asked over her shoulder as we walked across the shadowed dance floor.
    “I’m okay.”
    “Well, come see the kitchen, anyways,” Cocoa said, pushing open a swinging door. I could still faintly smell food, which made my stomach grumble, but every surface was clean and gleaming, an expanse of stainless steel.
    “The nightclub also serves food,” Cocoa explained, touching one of many skillets hanging from the wall. “We have a different chef’s special every night as well as a bunch of tapas. You know what tapas are?”
    “Little foods,” I said, nodding. “Like snacks.”
    “Exactly,” Cocoa said. “Little foods that we hope keep customers drinking but at the same time soak up the alcohol so they don’t get too wasted. Tapas.”
    Cocoa opened one of two fridges. “This is our fridge,” she said. “Mama keeps it supplied with everything you could possibly want to cook or eat. You can also use your tip money on snacks and stuff. Whatever you want. Just put your name on it.”
    “So, I keep my tip money?” I asked. Maybe I send some back to my sisters and las primas , to help take care of the babies. Or maybe the gang would just take it, like they took so much already from my family. Or college—I could save for college. The idea of having my own cash flow excited me.
    “Anything the customer gives you extra is yours,” Cocoa said. “You’ll turn around and give it to Mama for safe keeping, in her office. She works as a bank there, and you can withdraw money whenever you like.”
    “Okay.”
    “You ever waitressed before, Pumpkin?”
    I shook my head. I’d never actually had a job before. My sisters always told me that Mami and Papi had been adamant about getting my education, so I wasn’t even allowed to think about getting a job until I finished high school.
    I’d really dropped the ball on that one.
    “There’s nothing to it,” Cocoa said. “The only thing you have to be is pretty and outgoing, and the tips will start pouring in.” She looked at me briefly. “You’ve already got pretty going for you. All we have to do is work on outgoing.”
    “I’m kind of quiet,” I said, shrugging. It was my nature, not something I simply chose to be.
    “As an understatement,” Cocoa said, snorting. “Now, come on. I want to show you something else.”
    She led me out of the kitchen and to another set of stairs partially obscured by a long bar. A beer or five would be nice right about now, but I’d never ask for it. Not in a million years.
    “You like to party, Pumpkin?” Cocoa asked, noticing my lingering look at the bar. “You don’t strike me as the type.”
    I shrugged. “A little.”
    “Some girls like to, here,” Cocoa said. “And never turn down a drink if a customer offers to buy you one. If you really don’t want it, you can take a couple sips and give it to Blue to dispose of. She’s one of the bartenders.”
    We started up the steps.
    “Cocoa? Pumpkin? Where are you girls going?”
    We turned to see Mama emerge from the office, dressed in a terrycloth robe. She’d shed her cocktail dress that she’d worn for the night already, but her hair and makeup were both still intact.
    “I’m going to show Pumpkin upstairs,” Cocoa said. “You know. Give her a real tour of the place.”
    Mama raised her eyebrows. “Well, as soon as you come back downstairs, why don’t both of you step into my office,” she said, jerking her thumb over her back. Warm light from inside the office bathed the darkened floor, a yellow wedge in the inky blackness.
    “Sure thing, Mama,” Cocoa said easily. “Let’s go, Pumpkin.”
    I continued to follow her up the stairs, wondering what the exchange between her and Mama was about.
    “This is upstairs,” Cocoa said, her voice a little softer than it had been in the kitchen. It was a long hallway, much like the boarding house area on the opposite side of the building, with all of the doors closed. There wasn’t a single sound up there.
    I