Chapter 3
376 Words
DROP EIGHT
“Are you serious about this?” Pickle asked, tilting her head to the side. He had called her up to discuss business.
“For the last time, yes! We’re halfway there right now, might as well go all-in.” Hector gestured the equivalent gambler’s motion on the table, pushing all his chips to the centre.
Pickle leaned back. “Okay. We obviously need to hire three more girls.”
“Agreed,” Hector nodded.
There was a long pause. “Well? Which ones?” Pickle asked, impatient.
Hector shrugged. “I don’t know! It’s your call, I trust your judgement.”
“That’s the thing, this is the owner’s job. You know, schmoozing around, drinking, trading girls as if they’re collectible cards. It’s a boy’s club.”
“Okay, you decide which girls to approach, and I’ll go… schmooze, or whatever.”
Pickle started. “Really? You’d let me decide?”
Hector chuckled and took a swig of ouzo. “Pickle, I don’t know anything about the sport. You took over a team of randos at the underground and kicked ass. Even I could tell it was an awesome play on your behalf. So, yeah, why is it that hard to believe that I’m putting you in charge of the team?”
Pickle perked up. “Huh. It’s just that… I didn’t expect it, that’s all.”
“Pickle. Pickly-pickle. You’re the perfect tool for the job. Only an i***t would refuse to put you to good use.” He slashed the air with his palm. “Seriously, enough about this, it’s settled. Now, which ones can we get? The only ones I know of are from the Pinups. And I guess, from Hondros’ reserves.”
Pickle clicked her tongue. “Yeah… No. The Pinups suck, like really, really suck. It’s not just because I hated it there, they objectively suck. They’re just eye-candy. Unless you want actual, literal sucking, that, they excel at it.”
“Okay, no Pinups, I agree. Who else is there? Hondros’ girls?”
“Perhaps, but they’re expensive. And we’re not there yet, financially.”
“No, we’re definitely not. But it wouldn’t hurt to ask him.”
Pickle nodded, “Sure, he’ll definitely have connections.”
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