Chapter 13 Dance on the Pole, and I'll Tell You
Charles stood stiffly after delivering the news, wondering if Raymond would come down on him for uncovering such information.
He had never encountered a situation this complex before.
It was supposed to be a routine background check, but the results were astonishingly unexpected.
Seeing the madam light up a cigarette and burn so much cash in such manner, Charles braced himself for a revelation.
He had suspected that Paige's past might be somewhat peculiar, but doing time was a whole other level. Sure enough, casting a sidelong glance at Raymond, Charles could see the stoic mask of Raymond’s face tighten, his brows knitting together as if the words themselves were an affront to his senses.
Raymond didn't say a word, his eyes glued to the tablet's screen. Minutes later, he deleted the files with swift precision, trashed, and shredded them before handing the tablet back to Charles.
"Don’t let Bradley find out about this," Raymond's grave voice sounded.
Charles was a bit perplexed, his face a question mark, but he immediately responded with a firm, "Understood."
Just as he spoke, Paige exited the elevator and walked her way. Although Raymond remained seated, his gaze shifted to Paige. The dress he had chosen for her fit as if it were tailor-made, draping her figure flawlessly. Yet, after witnessing her fiery display, Raymond thought the white dress might not entirely complement her decisive nature.
As Paige approached them, Raymond was still sitting in the Rolls-Royce. "Let me help you out; we really should return this car to its owner," she said promptly.
Raymond's brow furrowed in confusion. Did his few actions not reveal his identity at all, or did she have an ulterior motive?
Without waiting for his reaction, Paige reached out to help him into his wheelchair, and Raymond cooperated smoothly, even thanking the driver who would've been quite startled had Charles not given him a heads-up.
The drive home was silent, both passengers lost in their thoughts. It wasn't until they neared the residential complex that Paige broke the silence, "This dress wasn't cheap, was it?"
Paige had never been fussy about her lifestyle. With no means to be choosy before turning 18, and her subsequent years in prison left no room for such concerns. However, the luxury of the silk dress she now wore, despite lacking a designer label, spoke of its value.
Her eyes scrutinized Raymond as she pondered. How could a man with just a thousand dollars to spare each month afford such an expensive dress for her?
Raymond's gaze casually swept over Paige, and of course, he noticed her scrutinizing eyes.
"The dress is pricey," Raymond admitted with ease, "I bought it on an installment plan."
Paige was at a loss for words.
Charles couldn't help but thought, "Man, that’s hard!"
Feeling the need to explain the day's events, especially since her new husband had stumbled upon them, Paige organized her thoughts and began.
"Remember how I mentioned last night that I wouldn't be home for dinner?"
"Uh-huh, I remember," Raymond acknowledged.
"Well, I have some history with the Sackler family. Their birthday celebration was a bit tumultuous, but I felt obliged to attend," Paige explained.
Right after, Raymond offered a quick justification, "I went in someone's stead to deliver a birthday gift."
It was indeed for Bradley, but lucky for him he'd gone; otherwise, he would've missed seeing a surprisingly assertive side of his bride.
Charles, driving in front, overheard everything and silently marveled at them, thinking Raymond and Paige were a perfect match.
Upon returning home, Paige intended to assist Raymond with the TV as usual, but he was quick to maneuver his wheelchair and retreated to his room, slamming the door with a loud 'thump'.
Paige lingered guiltily outside, pondering if Raymond had seen her burning the bag of money. Why hadn't he asked her about it? Was he waiting for her to explain first? She hadn't brought it up in the car. Yet, explaining the event at the Sackler's and setting five million dollars ablaze would inevitably lead to revealing her jail time.
The jail time wasn't the issue. The real problem was that discussing it could expose her own secret. Her illegitimacy didn't bother her, but she didn't want her mother labeled as an adulteress, especially not in Raymond's eyes. He was her husband, and Paige didn't want him to think ill of her mother.
Paige stood outside the door, unable to walk away, while Raymond waited behind it, hoping for more than a brief explanation.
But after a long silence, all Raymond heard was the fading sound of Paige's footsteps.
With a feeling of disappointment, Raymond walked to the window and picked up his laptop.
Just as Paige was about to start preparing dinner, her phone vibrated with an incoming text.
From Xena: “9 PM at Nightshade Bar. Show up or your mom’s medication gets cut off tomorrow.”
In a flash, Paige’s facade as an average person crumbled, her fists clenched tightly. Xena had crossed the line.
Her repeated compromises had only emboldened the Sackler’s relentless humiliation and oppression over her.
Without a word to Raymond, Paige left the house, ordering him takeout for dinner on her way out.
At Nightshade Bar.
Her dress was rather fetching, allowing her smooth entry into Northwind’s most upscale and luxurious bar, even though she had arrived on a rented bike.
The throbbing music and strobing neon lights only heightened Paige’s growing impatience.
She made a beeline through the crowd, swaying messily to the rhythm, towards the private lounge where Xena and Elijah Trump’s entourage reveled.
Xena’s mood was sour; the birthday party she had meticulously prepared for her grandma was ruined by Paige’s act of arson. When she went to check the surveillance footage for evidence, she was informed the cameras were conveniently inactive.
With the party a fiasco and grandma in low spirits, Xena had barely managed to drag herself out for the night at Elijah Trump’s insistence. But the thought of Paige gnawed at her; she couldn't swallow her pride without teaching Paige a lesson.
The bitter pill, perhaps, was that Louis had shown interest in Paige not once, but twice.
Grandma had lately been discussing marital ties with Louis’s mother. If her future husband still fancied Paige, where would Xena's dignity be?
Brooding and downing a shot, Xena caught sight of Paige approaching her. Paige, with frosty eyes asked, “What do you want?”
Surrounded by friends and slightly intoxicated, Xena wasn’t intimidated by Paige’s grit.
She glanced around and then suddenly pointed at a steel pole on the stage, “If you're so confident, go up there, show us some moves, and maybe I'll tell you what I want”
