#Twitch was supposed to drink 5 hr energy but the setting takes place in the 80s

[colorfulplasma]

early energy

[artificialqueens]

Like They Do in Vegas, 2/5 (Vanique) - Mac

AN: Thanks a million to Meggie and Alex for betaing this chapter and being legends, icons, and stars.

Hope you enjoy!!

BGM Challenge Notes: Vanessa and Monique’s friends show up in Chapter 4! And here is the playlist I made for this fic.

Summary: Monique and Vanessa get to know each other over a very early (2 am) breakfast, with the backdrop of the Las Vegas strip.

They didn’t go back to Monique’s room like Vanessa expected.

Instead, Monique hailed a cab with one outstretched, manicured hand, gave the address of The Venetian, and they climbed in the car without another word.

The drive was short even though the roads were packed. Vanessa stared out the window to keep from staring at Monique.

They called New York the city that never sleeps, but Vanessa would bet her left tit that New York didn’t have the same energy that Vegas did at 3 a.m. The sidewalks were packed, and the lights were bright as sunlight. Vanessa would have winced if her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the brilliance years ago.

They pulled up to the hotel, the fountains and massive scale of the whole place only really hitting Vanessa when she stood next to it. Monique thanked their driver with a twenty. Vanessa held her head high and pretended this was normal, that beautiful women with deep pockets took her out regularly.

They made their way inside the lush reception area and Monique led Vanessa with a hand to her back up the intricate staircase. Vanessa had been to the Venetian before. When friends came to visit and wanted to see the infamous hotel, or the rare occurrence when she would go home with a target. She was never there for longer than a handful of minutes. Hadn’t gotten the chance to stare at the gold-flecked columns, or the rose-dipped ceiling. The plum color drenching the seating that littered the floor, the layout both relaxed and rigid in the same breath.

Vanessa was in awe. People milled about the lobby like they belonged, walking slowly, taking their time. The luxury practically sang in their blood.

They ascended the stairs and headed toward the Grand Lux Cafe. Monique requested a table on the outside balcony, and before Vanessa could blink, they were seated high above the twinkling city, breathing in the open air.

Their waitress greeted them with that quintessential Vegas charm in that she barely looked at them and grunted after each of their orders.

Vanessa went to order something dainty, like a salad or a soup, but Monique cut her off saying they’d both take a full order of waffles with all the sides and extra butter. Vanessa just quirked an eyebrow up at her.

“So tell me about yourself.”

The sudden absurdity of the situation, as well as the question, caught Vanessa off guard and she let out a laugh that could have shaken the tables. Monique let her, grinning wildly in the interim.

Vanessa made a wide sweeping gesture with both hands, chest feeling oddly light.  “What do ya wanna know?”

“Well, first of all, you can start by telling me your name,” Monique teased. “Your real name.”

Vanessa started at this.

Her reaction must have not been what the older woman was expecting, because she quickly went to correct herself. “Or not! You don’t have to tell me.” Monique looked down at the table.

“No, no, it’s fine, I just…” Vanessa shook her head slightly. “Most people don’t care enough to ask.”

Monique looked up at her, a trace of sadness in her eye. Vanessa chose to ignore it for now in favor of the conversation.

“Vanessa.”

“That’s pretty.”

Vanessa hummed. “It does the job.” She looked up at Monique from under her lashes. A practiced move. “What do you do, Monique?”

The older woman’s eyes flicked over the balcony to the city below. “I run a marketing management firm.”

Makes sense with the watch, Vanessa’s mind interjected.

“What does that mean?”

Vanessa knew what it meant. She’d met with more businessmen than she knew what to do with over her three-year residence.

HR was where the older men went after Wall Street prowling. Social Media Management was for the younger ones, early/late twenties who were still wet behind the ears. Marketing could go either way, usually catering to the folks with accounting degrees and an interest in psychology.

Vanessa knew. She played dumb because targets always liked telling you about what they do. They liked explaining things to the poor uneducated little girl with wide eyes and a slit in her dress. Vanessa played her part, still unsure of where she stood with Monique.

The older woman chuckled, her eyes darting back to Vanessa. “It means I boss around the people that boss other people around, and we create promotional materials for major companies.”

“Anyone I’d know?” Vanessa asked absentmindedly, allowing plenty of time for her present company to drone on and on about how incredible her business ventures were. How rich she was. How important it all made her.

The left corner of Monique’s mouth twitched up. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

Vanessa chuckled, a bit taken aback by the lack of droning. “Oooh, mysterious.”

Monique hummed.

“Well, you clearly good at your job,” Vanessa said.

Monique quirked up an eyebrow. “Why would you say that?”

“The watch,” Vanessa said before she could think better of it.

“Yeah, I noticed you eying it earlier,” Monique said, voice calculated. Not judgmental, but measured. “Is that how you pick your…”

“Targets?”

“People?”

They answered simultaneously.

Monique chuckled. “Well, when you put it like that.” She took a long sip of her drink and Vanessa found herself wanting to apologize. She bit her tongue before she could actually follow through with such a hair-brained idea.

Instead, she shrugged. “It is what it is.”

Monique nodded, still not giving away her feelings, face set in a slight upturn of her lips. “So how do you pick your marks then?”

Vanessa ran a hand through her hair absentmindedly. “Why do you wanna know?”

Monique shrugged. “Humor me,” she said. “Walk me through the steps, Vanessa.”

Monique’s tongue curling around the syllables of her name made Vanessa’s insides light up in an all too familiar way. She had to break eye contact or she was going to do something stupid.

She also had to take a minute to collect her thoughts. No one had ever asked her anything like this before. Targets didn’t usually want the illusion broken. They knew what they were to her, but you weren’t supposed to acknowledge it. It was a weird game of social chicken.

“Okay. Well.” Vanessa coughed. “First step is lookin’ the part.” She motioned to her dress, still reflecting the city lights below them. “You gotta be eye candy.”

Monique bit back a smile, and Vanessa could feel her eyes trailing down the length of her neck. The flush spreading to her cheeks made Vanessa’s head a little fuzzy.

“Second step is knowin’ your worth. You don’t go to seedy casinos or you get creeps. You wanna roll high, aim high. Bellagio, Caesars Palace, Cosmopolitan,” Vanessa said matter-of-factly. “They put you out, you’re better off working the corner. Casino girls get paid dust. Less than dust. But you don’t wanna be on the streets.”

Monique hummed noncommittally, prompting Vanessa to continue.

“Step three ain’t somethin’ you learn. You gotta be good with people. Know what they want. Men are easy. Sex, booze, drugs, gettin’ off. Simple.” Vanessa let out a breath. “The real art in it all comes in the form of pretendin’ to not know any a that. A lot of what you do is pretendin’ you can’t tell your left foot from your right. Targets love explainin’. Makes ‘em feel good to brag to somebody they ain’t ever gonna see again.”

The older woman nodded, crossing her legs under the table.

Vanessa nodded to herself. “Then you got ‘em. Make ‘em feel special, get ‘em drinks, whisper in they ear till they pockets empty. You get that check from the casino at the end of the week, and sometimes targets offer you more to sleep with ‘em. If that’s your thing then there ya go.” Vanessa leaned back in her chair, just in time for their food to arrive.

The waitress set their plates down none too gently and scattered the second she affirmed they needed nothing else.

“Sounds like a lot to keep track of,” Monique mused, twirling her empty fork in her hand.

“It ain’t so bad.” Vanessa shrugged. “I could be out on the street.”

They paused for a moment to dig into their food, Vanessa’s stomach noisily thanking her for the extra syrup. Monique watched her with light in her eyes. It was unnerving. Not in a bad way per se. It was just different.

A not wholly unwelcome different.

Vanessa read people well, it was her job. But for some reason, she couldn’t get a clear read on Monique, her motivations, or what drove her. Usually, Vanessa only had to nod and smile as people freely offered up information about themselves for her to use. Monique was playing her cards close to her chest, not unlike the way she had been playing the games earlier.  

Monique hummed as she set her fork down gently next to her plate. “Will you show me?” she asked.

“Huh?”

Monique looked around at the other tables for a moment before pointing to a well-dressed man, early thirties, younger than her usual targets.

“Walk me through how you would… acquire him.” Monique settled on.

Vanessa was intrigued. This woman, she wasn’t doing anything by the book. Targets didn’t ask her questions, didn’t listen to her answers. They talked and she half-listened and wished she were anywhere else. Monique was throwing that all out the window, or, over the balcony.

“Why?”

Monique shrugged simply, still hiding her motivations behind a curious smile. “I wanna see you in action.”

“How do you know you ain’t been seein’ me in action?” Vanessa quirked up a brow. Challenging.

“You wouldn’t have left the casino with me if I were just another target.”

Monique had her there.

Vanessa swallowed pointedly. “Well, he’s young,” she threw out, eyes trailing up the man’s form. “Thirties. No wedding ring, which is a good sign, makes my job easier.”

Monique’s eyes darted back over the balcony.

“If we were at a casino he’d probably be playing Texas Hold-Em. All the bachelors love that game, I swear.” Vanessa smiled to herself. She looked over to see the young man grinning widely with his date. “He’s wearing Valentino, so he’s definitely a fan of the classics, old movies and old stereotypes of women included.”

Monique chuckled “And you know that just from his suit?”

Vanessa nodded. “His haircut says accounting, but he ain’t got a watch, so he probably works in an office building. My guess is he a trust fund baby workin’ for daddy’s company in a big city.” Vanessa shrugged, satisfied with her answer. “But he’s not a local,” she added as an afterthought.

“How do you know?” Monique questioned.

Vanessa allowed a smirk to envelop her features. “He keeps lookin’ over the balcony.”

Monique’s eyes widened for a split second in shock. But only for a second.

Vanessa smirked inwardly. The first slip of this woman’s cool facade hit Vanessa like a drug. She needed more of it.

“If we was at the casino I’d bump into him on accident, pitch my voice higher, like this.” Vanessa demonstrated, clearing her throat before she spoke in a squeaky and unfamiliar way. She feigned dainty. “Oh, my god, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I did that, I’m so clumsy. Let me make it up to you with a drink.”

“And that works?” Monique raised a brow incredulously.

Vanessa nodded. “He’d be thrown off at first but he’d get a good look at me and say no harm done. He’d probably make some comment about how ‘the man should buy the drink.’ And I’d smile and look down at my feet. Make myself small. He’d offer to buy me a round. I’d refuse ‘cause I’m workin’. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer, those guys never do.”

Monique’s smile faded and she nodded slowly, understanding crossing behind her eyes.

“Bada-bing, bada-boom. I hit my quota for the night.” Vanessa tried to finish with a bit of a flare to lighten the suddenly tense mood.

Monique was just looking at her stunned, mouth gaping open.  “That’s amazing.”

Vanessa was thrown by the compliment.“W-well, it’s the job.” She cursed her voice for coming out unsteady.

“No, the way you did that, just then.” Monique reached across the table to grasp Vanessa’s hand. “Observed all that about him just from one look.”

Vanessa was most assuredly blushing now. “Oh, well, I—”

“It’s amazing!” Monique exclaimed. “Really, Vanessa you’re so incredible.”

The tone of Monique’s voice was too genuine for Vanessa’s liking. She didn’t know how to respond to that, to any of it. People didn’t act like that. They weren’t nice for no reason. Monique had an agenda.

Everyone did.

Still, Vanessa could feel in her gut that Monique wasn’t out to hurt her. Monique was different. Or maybe that was the silly romanticism getting in Vanessa’s head again. It was getting harder and harder to tell the difference.

“I wouldn’t say that…”

Monique cut her off. “I would. I just did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Then that settles it.” Monique smiled. “You’re amazing.”