The White Wolf
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” Ghost asked as I filled a tray of whiskeys. He sat in his usual spot at the bar when I worked. He and Uncle Harris seemed to have formed a friendship. One that allowed Ghost to stay overnight on the nights I worked.
We were now inseparable. I waited for a moment when I wanted some privacy, but the urge never came. Ghost was my most caring, considerate, and handsome boyfriend. I was fed, chauffeured, and cared for, making me feel cherished and loved. We set aside time to complete his work and my homework, balancing out the fun part of dating. He often had meetings at the club—a club I was never invited to.