"Good evening Dixie, you look well" said the smartly attired man at the table in front of the bar.

"Good evening to you, Doctor Shepard." replied Dixie.

"On the hour of three tomorrow as usual ?"

"As always Doctor" said Dixie, who then smiled and walked to the Poker Table at the back of the room.
Her spot. A vantage position of sorts. From here Dixie could survey the entire nightly scene in the Tavern. The Door, the entire length of the Bar, each table and the men there seated, the other girls and she could always see Wilmot from where she stood.
Wilmot needed to be seen in her opinion. He was a mean bastard. Wilmot owned the Byway Tavern and that took a quick mind, a clear head for business and it would seem it also took a deep streak of cruelty into the bargain and he also 'owned' some of the Girls that worked the Byway but he did not own Dixie. No man did.

One of Wilmot's new girls came over and stood beside Dixie. She could see by the girl's eyes that Wilmot had given her a 'little something' to help her through the evening. That was how he kept some of 'his' girls. That was how he owned them. Not by buying them with cold hard cash but by making them need him more than the breath they drew.

Young as she was, flies didn't settle too long on Dixie. She was way old beyond her years. She knew things , she felt things. People didn't need to speak to her, hell they didn't need to do nuthin cept sit there and look at her and then she knew them,knew them inside and out.

"Scat, get yourself over by the piano there, this ain't your spot tonight or any other night, make sure you mind that" The girl stood a second and then as if she had suddenly just heard what had been said to her, she turned quickly and weaved her way through the tables till she reached the Piano.

Dixie's expression did not alter as she spoke to the girl or as the girl left. Dixie then looked straight at Wilmot, who was holding a bemused smile. She knew he would be watching to see what she would do and just as she thought, he was. He took a cigar from his waistcoat pocket, bit the end and spat it out then lit the cigar. Inhaling deeply, he put his hands behind his head and slowly drew his eyes away from Dixie still holding the bemused smile.
No man owned Dixie la Fleur.

"So" thought Dixie "best get to working". She just happened to be looking at the door as a young man came in, her eyes followed him till he got to the Bar.

At that an older man approached Dixie and after a brief exchange between them, she walked with the man to the stairs.
Glancing back towards the bar as she reached the start of the hallway towards her room, a thought passed her mind. "that young man don't look like he belongs in this place"

Then she turned her attention back to her Customer.