Peggy was a drug dealer, not a hooker. She looked down on women like Fiona. She smiled at Carl. "Good. But remember, don't be like Fiona, fucking random people. That's not what a real man does."
Carl scratched his head. He didn't quite get it, but he nodded anyway.
The old woman and the young boy joked around for a bit.
Then Frank returned, his ugly mug hanging low. He shook his head weakly at Peggy. "Couldn't borrow a car..."
Peggy, who had just been laughing with Carl, instantly wiped the smile off her face the moment she saw Frank. It was practically instinctive. "Frank, tell me, what is the point of you even being alive?"
Frank didn't dare talk back. His silver tongue had failed him. He just lowered his head and stayed silent.
Peggy couldn't be bothered to waste another word on him. She thought for a moment, then stood up slowly and walked over to the bar. She pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and asked Kevin, "How about I rent your car for a day? One hundred bucks, plus I'll fill the tank."
Kevin wasn't that desperate for cash; a hundred bucks didn't mean much to him.
However, facing Peggy, he thought about it and didn't refuse immediately.
Not because he was afraid of her, but because she was so old...
"What do you need the car for?" Kevin asked.
"To go to the hospital," Peggy replied.
"You sure you won't wreck my car, or even sell it? It wouldn't be the first time Frank's done something like that," Kevin said.
Peggy shook her head gently. "I'm borrowing the car, not Frank."
Kevin thought for a few seconds, took the hundred dollars from Peggy's hand, and then handed over his keys. "It's parked out front. The dark red pickup. License plate is... Bring it back by this time tomorrow at the latest."
"No problem. Thanks." Peggy took the keys, went back to sit opposite Frank, and slammed the keys on the table. "Tomorrow morning, six o'clock sharp. Pick me up."
"Okay," Frank agreed, looking as cowardly as humanly possible.
Looking at Frank like this, Peggy couldn't stop herself from sighing. Sigh.
---
Across the street from the Convenience Store.
Ian successfully spotted Mickey's car. He opened the door and sat in the passenger seat.
Seeing Ian, Mickey kept up his tough act. "What are you doing here?"
Ian naturally noticed the gun in Mickey's hand and was worried. "Let's go home. Kash is a Muslim; he absolutely won't blab. If he did, he'd be in huge trouble himself. Linda might even kill him."
Mickey exhaled a cloud of smoke. "He should have died a long time ago. An old man like that fucking you."
Hearing this, Ian sharply caught the main point. He felt Mickey was jealous, and a sweet smile appeared on his face. "Alright, let's go hang out at the school, or go to the lake. Let's just not stay here."
Mickey caught a glimpse of the smile on Ian's face out of the corner of his eye and couldn't handle it. "What the fuck are you smiling at?"
Ian kept smiling.
The two bickered for a bit.
Actually, Mickey never really had the heart to kill Kash. After taking Dexter's call, he had mostly given up on the idea anyway. Now, looking arrogant as ever, he started the car and drove off into the distance.
"Don't you need to go back?" Mickey asked without looking at Ian.
Ian shook his head decisively and smiled. "It doesn't matter how late I go back."
That smile, those words... ugh, a bit nauseating.
Mickey couldn't stand it and stayed silent.
---
Dexter's House.
After giving the incredibly sour and jealous Emily a tour, Dexter and Bianca happily ushered her out.
The vibe was basically, "Please leave now."
"Fine, fine, fine, I'm going, okay? I won't disturb you two," Emily said, speechless. Then, she flashed a sly grin at Bianca. "Bianca, remember to use protection."
Bianca: "..."
Having watched Dexter and Bianca display their affection all night, Emily felt exhausted. Finally having gotten a jab in, she felt a bit happier, turned around, got in her car, and drove home quickly.
"That woman... she's always this crazy. She probably won't find a boyfriend," Bianca said, watching the car drive away.
Dexter smiled and didn't comment.
They quickly went back inside, took a shower, curled up on the sofa, and watched a movie, enjoying their leisurely evening.
---
The Club.
Dressed only slightly better than a hooker—plunging neckline, tiny shorts revealing long legs—Fiona had her ass grabbed by a customer yet again.
Fiona felt it and her expression changed. Immediately, she forcibly suppressed her anger, turned around, and smiled brightly. "Handsome, the tip better be generous tonight."
The customer who grabbed her smirked. "How generous does it have to be to take you out for coffee?"
The implication was incredibly obvious.
Fiona knew this idiot mistook her for a prostitute. Her smile widened. "Very generous."
"No problem," the customer said readily.
Fiona didn't say more. She turned and left to get the drinks.
She had only taken a few steps when she heard the conversation behind her.
"Bro, are you really gonna fuck her?"
"Haha, maybe get a BJ from her. But fuck her? I feel like even wearing three condoms wouldn't be safe," the customer who grabbed her laughed.
"Makes sense. Maybe I'll have some fun too."
Thump.
Fiona heard it clearly. She stopped abruptly, the smile vanishing from her face, replaced by pure rage.
In that moment, she had a violent urge to turn around, rush back, and beat that bastard into a pulp!
Unfortunately, she couldn't.
She really needed this job. And if she got physical and someone called the cops, she'd go back to prison!
Thinking of that nightmare...
Fiona forced herself to take several deep breaths and continued walking forward.
She arrived at the bar by the dance floor.
Fiona sniffled, recovering her "work mode," and called out to the bartender, "One Bloody Mary, one..."
Before she could finish.
Smack.
Her ass was slapped.
Motherfucker!
Fiona was about to explode. Her expression twisted violently as she whipped around, her eyes fierce, ready to see who it was.
Jasmine gave a wicked grin. "Nice feel. Fiona, right?"
Seeing it was a woman, Fiona dialed back her anger slightly. "You are?"
Jasmine smiled and introduced herself.
Hearing the introduction and recognizing the connection through Debbie, Fiona offered a faint smile and said politely, "I have to work. Let's talk later."
"It's a date. I won't forget," Jasmine said familiarly.
Fiona felt a bit speechless. "Okay."
Just then, Jasmine's sugar daddy, David, arrived at her side.
Being a shameless operator herself, Jasmine immediately grabbed Fiona's arm and introduced them. "This is my friend David."
"David, this is Fiona, a new friend I just met."
David looked Fiona up and down and smiled politely. "Nice to meet you."
Fiona nodded.
"David, get a bottle of [Expensive Champagne]. Let's take care of Fiona," Jasmine spoke up again.
David was rich and didn't care. "Sure."
Hearing this.
"Great, I'll bring it over right away," Fiona smiled happily, her smile much warmer now.
The reason was simple.
Rich people meant big tips.
Fiona was smiling for the money.