“The girl with the braid,” I say, not bothering to waste words. Miss Green is alone, and I won’t leave her unprotected longer than necessary. “What did she want?” “Why should I tell you?” “Because you want to live.” He jerks back, the drink in his hand spilling over the sides of the glass. “Look man, I don’t want any trouble.” “Then answer the question.” “Okay, right. She asked about getting a job here.” I narrow my eyes. “What did you say?” “I said, ‘yes.’ She’s young and pretty, which is what we want around here.” “No.” “No?” he parrots, his brow furrowing. “No, she will not have a job here.
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