"Trust me, it'll be my pleasure."
After we hang up, I start my bike and strap on my helmet. The Black Kitty is the next city over, Virginia Beach, so it won’t take long to get there.
The traffic is light and I weave in and out of lanes to reach the club. It’s nothing more than an old warehouse that’s been converted. It looks like a tin box sitting in the middle of a gravel parking lot. I stow my helmet on the back of my bike and walk past the line of people waiting to get in. One of the guys backs up a step and bumps into me.
“Hey, watch it!” He takes one look at me and holds up his hands. “Oh … sorry dude. My bad.”
I keep walking until I reach the front of the line. There’s a guy manning the door who’s the size of a mountain wearing huge diamond earrings. His pale head gleams bald under the neon lights over the door.
“You must be Tank. I’m Lou. Sasha’s in the back getting dressed. Once her number is over, she’ll meet you at the bar.”
I wonder briefly how he knew it was me, and then realize Eli must have called him. We shake hands and he stands back to allow me to enter. Several people in the long line waiting to get in make disgruntled noises but when I turn to face them, the entire line goes silent.
“The guy who owns this club, Lattimer, he’s a real piece of work. I’ve seen the way he treats some of the girls and I don’t like it. If you need any help, I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks man.” I cross through the dim entrance and into the body of the club. It looks like any other bar at first glance, bad techno music, alcohol flowing and guys hitting on girls who aren’t nearly drunk enough to go home with them yet.
“Tank! What are you doing here?” Sasha doesn’t exactly look happy to see me but at least she’s not hitting me with her purse this time.
“Eli sent me.”
She nods and hops up onto the bar stool next to me. She’s wearing a long gold dress covered in some kind of sparkly shit. I know nothing about women’s clothes but I can definitely appreciate that it dips low in the back exposing a ton of caramel colored skin. She’s a beautiful girl with high cheekbones, big brown eyes and long braided dark hair. If Finn were here, he’d be all over her. He’s always been a ladies’ man.
“Thanks for coming. Things have been pretty bad lately.”
“So where is this fucker?” I scan the other people at the bar. The bartender is at the other end, pouring colorful drinks and chatting with the two girls leaning over the bar flirtatiously.
“He’s in the back. He usually doesn’t make his appearance until the end.” She leans closer, glancing around before she says, “He’s been making threats, telling a lot of the girls they’ll be let go if they don’t accommodate him. My friend was backstage on the verge of tears. She’s just waitressing here trying to earn tuition money. She shouldn’t have to deal with this crap. Oh, look here she comes. Emma!”
I can feel it before I even turn around. Somehow I just know it’s her. There’s a shift in the air and then she’s there, standing next to me, chatting with Sasha. My eyes land on her costume or lack thereof. She’s wearing the tiniest skirt I’ve ever seen and a little bikini top that pushes her breasts up like ripe fruit. It’s covered in purple sequins.
When her eyes finally land on me, she makes a sound that’s a cross between a groan and a squeak. “Tank? Oh my god.” She crosses her arms over her chest and the tray she’s carrying falls to the ground. Automatically, I bend to retrieve it which puts me right on eye level with the cleavage.
Hell.
Time stretches between us painfully as Sasha looks back and forth between us warily. “You two know each other?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
We both speak at the same time. Emma looks appalled. Her hands are still covering the front of her bikini top and from the death glare on her face, I’ll lose an eye if my gaze drops anywhere below her neck. It requires a remarkable amount of self-control on my part because the one look I got was spectacular.
Which of course means I can’t help messing with her a little.
“Emma Shaw. Is that you? You look … different somehow. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
She growls and points a finger at my chest. “What are you doing here? Are you stalking me now?” The movement exposes the left side of her chest and I’m almost blinded by sparkly purple sequins. I blink and when she notices my gaze, she yanks her hand down covering her chest again.
“I’m doing what every other red-blooded American guy does on a random Tuesday night. Having a beer at a club. Visiting a friend.”
Sasha is watching us with a knowing grin. “So how do you two know each other?”
Emma doesn’t respond so I answer. “I asked Eli to recommend an estate lawyer.”
Sasha grins. “And let me guess, he recommended Patrick Stevens? Yeah, that makes sense. I’ve done temp work there off and on for several years. That’s how I met Emma, actually. Kay’s family uses him and now Eli does, too. Small world, huh?”
“Yeah. Small world.” I take another sip of my beer, watching Emma adjust the tiny top shielding her breasts from view.
A girl wearing a peacock headdress, sparkly red high heels and a red thong runs up to us. “Sasha, where have you been? You’re on next!”
“Oh crap. I have to go. Thanks for coming again Tank. I really appreciate it. Emma, you stay here and keep Tank company while I’m on stage.” Sasha gathers up the edges of her long dress and then rushes after the peacock girl, leaving Emma and I alone in uncomfortable silence.