“S’up, bossman. You wanna drink?”
“My usual, please.”
With a nod, he reached under the bar for the unlabeled bottle, then poured two fingers into a shot glass. He winked as he set it on the bar and moved on to a paying customer.
Warm Coke wasn’t my favorite, but it helped sell the image. A dark-colored drink in a mostly dark room was all I needed. While I wouldn’t have minded if it was the real thing, especially the way the night was starting, I couldn’t afford to lose my head.
I watched as Kent made his way back down the bar, working his way back to the woman of the hour. I chuckled as he made her another Margarita – a virgin. Looks like I wasn’t the only one wanting a clear head tonight.
She turned down a half-drunk man while she waited. She smiled and he walked away with a grin. Whatever she said, he backed off without any issue. Not long after she took a sip from her new drink, another man walked up to the bar. He was wearing dark jeans with a black t-shirt. But the lean muscles were a bit telling. As was the way his lips moved, whispering to nobody in particular, from right behind the woman. She whispered something in return, from behind her glass.
Her partner.
When their conversation finished, the woman pushed off her stool and walked away. The man turned and leaned against the bar, a bottle of beer in his hands. He took a long swig of his bottle as she walked away from him. I couldn’t help but laugh at the remorseful look on his face as she closed the distance between her and Bruno.
Bruno was at a table with two other men, all three wore expensive suits and were drinking a bottle of our most expensive whiskey. They could afford it.
I cast a quick glance across the room to where I usually saw the Russians. Sure enough, Ivan and his girlfriend of the hour were enjoying the semi-private table. Bruno and his men didn’t pay them any attention. I knew they wouldn’t. My club was the only one in neutral territory.
I continuously refused to join either of their “families.” I preferred my independence. They allowed it, and my extracurricular activities, as long as I did not encroach on their businesses. In return, I allowed them to occasionally broker deals in the dark spaces of my club. I watched their backs, and they generally watched mine. A mutually beneficial arrangement.
Which also meant that I needed to figure out what was going on with these cops and stop it before anything happened. The last thing I needed was for them to ruin this for me.
I waited to see what would happen, wanting to see what the cops’ play would be before I made a move. What was their purpose here tonight?
The female cop approached Bruno’s side, sliding a hand down the back of his shoulder. He made a show of checking her out before inviting her to sit on his lap, with a large grin. I glanced over to her partner still at the bar, who seemed to be holding his bottle a little too tightly.
Guess I knew her purpose in being here now.
I lifted a finger and Kent came running, cutting off the group of women he was helping. They frowned until they saw me. I needed to get a move on it before they got up the guts to come over here. Normally I wouldn’t mind the benefits of owning a nightclub, just not tonight.
“Yes, sir.”
“I need a bottle of our best Scotch. Four glasses.”
Kent licked his lips nervously, looking around. “Sure. Everything alright?”
“I’m sure it is. I just need to intervene before it turns into something.”
He nodded at me, only slightly mollified. It wasn’t often the cops came into the club. Come to think of it, it might be Kent’s first time. He joined us only a few months ago. I glanced back to Bruno’s table, just in time to see his hand slide down to rest on the cop’s butt. I had time.
