A High-End Club.
Fiona, dressed to the nines, found the manager, Meg. Worried that Meg might have heard about her stint in prison, she asked with rare humility, "Meg, are you still looking for waitresses?"
Meg hadn't heard a thing about the prison sentence. She smiled. "Of course. I'm always looking for pretty girls to sell drinks."
Seeing Meg's reaction and realizing she was in the clear, Fiona breathed a silent sigh of relief. She dropped the uncomfortable humility and nodded with a smile. "Can I start tonight?"
"Sure," Meg agreed without hesitation. "Same rules as last year: no base salary, no flashing tits, no fucking customers anywhere on the premises, and no doing drugs."
Fiona knew the drill. "Got it."
"Alright. Go find Tom and get a uniform. Be here at seven sharp," Meg said. Then, she asked casually, "Just you this year? Your best friend... Veronica, right? Is she coming?"
Hearing Veronica's name made Fiona angry. Her expression instinctively shifted. "She's got money now. She's living the high life. She's not coming."
Meg, running a club of this size, was naturally good at reading people. She immediately spotted the animosity Fiona held toward Veronica.
But it wasn't her business, so she didn't pry. She just smiled. "I see. Well then, see you tonight."
"See you tonight."
Before long, Fiona grabbed her uniform, left the club, and hopped on the L train back to the Gallagher house.
Sitting on the train.
Fiona stared blankly at the passengers in the car. As she watched, she remembered last summer—her and Veronica riding this same train back and forth to the club every day, laughing happily, making money happily...
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. And consequently, her hatred for Dexter deepened!
By now.
She didn't just hate Dexter for a specific incident; she hated his very existence.
If Dexter hadn't shown up...
The South Side likely wouldn't have changed much.
She and Veronica would definitely still be best friends.
Veronica would surely still be home every day, helping look after Liam when needed, helping with all sorts of things...
They would still be poor, but they would be happy.
In her eyes, it was Dexter who destroyed her relationship with Veronica!
"Fuck!" Thinking of Dexter, Fiona couldn't help but curse viciously.
Time passed slowly.
Too tired to keep dwelling on this crap, Fiona leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes.
Unfortunately, once the mind starts racing, it's not so easy to stop.
Fiona couldn't control her wandering thoughts. As she ruminated, her mind inexplicably drifted to Steve.
Thinking of him...
She suddenly wanted to cry.
After Steve, she had gone through one man after another, but she hadn't loved a single one of them.
She had never again experienced the feeling she had when she was with Steve.
The more she thought, the more she missed him. Sniffling, she finally couldn't resist. She took out her phone, found Steve's number, and dialed.
She just wanted to hear his voice.
Ring... Ring... Ring...
The waiting tone played for several seconds.
The call connected.
"Hello," Steve said calmly.
Hearing his voice, Fiona's nose stung, and her eyes instantly reddened. "Are you doing okay?"
"Pretty good," Steve remained calm.
"That's good," Fiona said, lying to herself.
"And you?" Steve asked.
"I'm... doing good too," Fiona replied, habitually putting on a brave front. Then, she proactively changed the subject. "About the last time... I owe you an apology... I'm sorry."
"It's all in the past," Steve said, his voice still even.
Hearing those words, Fiona felt her heart clench. It hurt. She was forced into silence.
Steve didn't speak either, waiting quietly.
After seven or eight seconds.
Fiona took a deep breath and spoke up. "Starting tonight, I'm working at [Club Name]. Come hang out if you have time."
"I'm in Brazil," Steve replied, a hint of a smile in his voice.
Fiona fell silent again. "...Oh. I was just saying. Don't worry about it."
"Okay."
"Yeah. Well, bye."
"Bye."
The call ended.
Fiona sniffled, turning her head toward the window, tears welling in her eyes.
---
Brazil.
Steve lowered his phone and smiled. He looked down at Estefania, who was kneeling in front of him, hard at work. "Sweety, watch the teeth."
Hearing this, Estefania looked up, flashed a devilish smile, then lowered her head to continue her work.
Steve let out a long breath and turned his gaze toward the direction of America.
Time to go back.
---
The Alibi Room.
Thanks to Kevin's blabbering, Tommy, Kermit, and the other drunks all knew about Dexter's purchase and were buzzing with discussion.
It was purely gossip. Neither Kevin, Tommy, Kermit, nor any of the other drunks were overthinking it.
These drunks were open-minded; they simply didn't dwell on things they could never have.
"Gotta say, Dexter's girlfriend is pretty nice, even if her rack is a little small," Tommy said with a grin, nursing his drink.
Hearing this, Kevin glared immediately. "Tommy, you're staring at Bianca's chest?"
Tommy acted like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Of course. First look at the face, then the rack. Don't act like you're any different."
Kevin: "Fxxk off. I'm not like you!"
"Keep pretending. We're all men here, we're all the same. You dare say you haven't noticed Bianca's chest?" Tommy asked with a lecherous grin.
Kevin: "...Shut up. From this moment on, no more talk like that about Bianca. Or I'm kicking you out."
Tommy chuckled. He knew when to stop and didn't push it further.
At this point, Kermit spoke up. "Speaking of which, Dexter and Bianca look good together. If it keeps going like this, they'll probably get married before long."
"An amazing chef and a doctor. A couple like that... truly rare in the South Side."
Kevin nodded in agreement. "They do seem perfect for each other. That guy Dexter is really lucky."
"Huh? Shouldn't it be the other way around?" Kermit was puzzled.
Kevin grinned. "Why the other way around? A woman like Bianca is hard to find."
Tommy perked up again. "Hey, Kevin, what the hell did you just say to me? We can't talk about her, but you can?"
Just like that, the group bickered playfully.
As the noise continued.
Frank, having served Peggy for hours at the Gallagher house and nearly gone insane, finally caught a break to leave. He practically stormed into the Alibi, rushed to his usual spot, sat down, and shouted at Kevin, "Kevin, three beers! Fast!"
Hearing this, Kevin poured the drinks while asking curiously, "Frank, what's wrong with you? Who did you piss off this time?"
Frank picked up a beer and downed it in one go.
"My damn mother is torturing me to death!" Frank said with immense irritation. Then, without needing Kevin to ask again, the floodgates opened, and he launched into an endless stream of complaints about Peggy.