She sighed and started for the door. “Yes, I suppose so. Just tell her the passage is always open, should she have any questions for me. As I said, women must look out for other women—especially those who get involved with surly casino owners.”

The Bronze House remained closed for two days after the raid. Florence was grateful for the reprieve. She spent that time going over what happened in the brothel and wondering how she would ever face Clay again.

For nearly three years, she’d led a wild and bold life, sneaking out and traveling the city. Drinking, dancing. Men. Yet, even for her, what happened during the raid had been scandalous. She’d brought herself to orgasm while in the same room with Clay. And he’d been doing the same. It was the most arousing and yet horrifying experience of her twenty-one years. Thank goodness he’d seemed to take the episode in stride, bidding her a polite good-night as she left, as if they hadn’t shared something momentous.

Then a thought had occurred. What if it hadn’t been momentous for him? He had round-the-clock access to the brothel, the women who worked there. Then there was the joke about her corrupting him, but that might’ve been for her benefit, to relax her. Those sorts of illicit rendezvous could be an everyday occurrence for him.

Did you believe you were special?

No, not to a man like Clay. He probably had a string of lovers to keep him busy. No doubt he’d forget about the closet in time, if he hadn’t already. The realization actually made it easier for her to return to the casino. Now she could walk in and act as if nothing happened.

That night had been a momentary lapse in judgment, one they’d both never mention again.

But one she’d relive in her mind when she was alone in her bed.

She bit her lip and fought a smile as she entered. The man at the employee door in the back greeted her and relayed the message that she should go straight to Clay’s office. Ignoring her racing heart, she removed her cloak. “Are you certain? His office?”

“Yes, miss. The floor’s busier tonight than we’ve been in months. Everyone’s come out after the raid.”

Figured. The jackals in this town loved a good spectacle. She thanked him and worked her way through the inner corridors toward Clay’s office. Sounds from the casino drifted through the thin walls. The men were having a grand time, it seemed. And why wouldn’t they, out celebrating their wealth and privilege while wives and sisters waited dutifully at home?

Florence would change that. She’d hear the same raucous laughter and exuberance in her own casino, except the voices wouldn’t be so low and gruff.