I extended my arms and spread my legs wide. For a big guy, the bouncer was quick and light on his feet. The search took less than thirty seconds. He inspected my lip gloss very carefully. He looked disappointed when he realized it was only lip gloss. What was he expecting, a blade in there?
“I don’t need to remind you this is a business establishment, and we don’t want any trouble.” Sure he didn’t. The look in his eyes was murderous. He was ready for me to start something.
“Of course. I’m just here to talk.”
He gave me a look almost like the Rock before a wrestling match. I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it out alive.
The bouncer inclined his chin. He walked over to the wall on his right and pulled over a velvety curtain. This was where I walked faith. My rational mind kept telling me I was going to smack my face into a wall. My intuition said to trust Constantine. If I died, Constantine was going down. Without looking back, I stepped through the velvety curtain and went through the wall. The place was pitch black.
“Watch your step, and hold on to the rail while going down the stairs.” Those were the last words I heard the bouncer say as the curtain fell back in place. So down the dark stairs it was. I went down twelve, maybe thirteen steps before I reached another velvety curtain. Before my eyes could adjust, the curtain was pulled open for me. I stood frozen in place. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but this was not it.
The Cave was definitely underground, but it was not a Cave. It was a cross between Ricky Martin’s club in “Living la Vida Loca,” the Jennifer Lopez and Pitbull club scene from “On the Floor,” and Cirque du Soleil, all in one. Crystal chandeliers hung strategically around the club. On a stage at the far wall, a full band was playing their hearts out. Balconies were filled with people on either side of the stage, with a pit in front of the band. Dancers were suspended from cages, cables, and even small platforms scattered through the club. If the United Nations needed a postcard, this place had everyone represented.
“Good evening, intern. Should I escort you? He’s expecting you.”
Wow. I was betting the devil recruited at GQ for his staff. The bouncer next to me was breathtaking, just like the first one. I had to swallow a few times to get my thoughts in order.
“Yes, thank you. That would be great.”
GQ smiled at me and led the way. “First time? Don’t worry; you get used to it.” I wasn’t sure how, but GQ’s voice sounded like a purr in my ear. It was crystal clear even with the music pounding. I had to admit, the devil had a killer DJ.
I wasn’t sure if the bouncer did it on purpose, but it appeared we were taking the scenic route. Everyone stared at me as I passed. I was hoping it was because I was the only one fully dressed. If Shooters had tons of half-naked girls, in this place they were just naked. They even had full samba dancers in their full outfits. Nobody needed beer goggles in this place; these people were beautiful.
GQ led us up a staircase to the left of the stage to an empty balcony. At least it looked empty as I approached.
At the top of the circular staircase, I got a full view of the balcony. Unlike most theater balconies, this one was set up to look at the whole club, not just the stage. To the left, a pair of Victorian-looking chairs were facing the stage. To the right, a very black leather couch was by a wall, facing the opposite way. I was sure it was custom made, and it was huge.
“Your Highness, she is here,” GQ said to a man on the couch. He was dimly lit, and I wasn’t sure what to expect.
“Thank you, Adam. You can leave us.”
Adam gave me one last look that screamed I’m watching you, and then he walked back downstairs. Honestly. As if I could kill the devil.
“Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise. Normally it takes interns at least a few months before they venture down my path.”
I was speechless and probably drooling. I got a full view of the devil as he walked around the couch. The devil was hot. OK, not just hot. We’re talking Brad Pitt in Interview with the Vampire sexy hot. He was blond with piercing blue eyes, and he was wearing the best Armani suit I had ever seen a man pull off. This was not happening to me. How was this possible?
“Has anyone ever told you it’s not polite to stare?”
“Are you serious? I mean, I’m sorry. OK, I think I’m lost. Who are you again?” I was sure Constantine had given me the wrong directions. Where were his horns, red skin, and tail? This was not my idea of the Devil.
He actually laughed at me. He even had a sexy laugh. No wonder Christianity was losing the recruitment battle. Jesus was portrayed with sandals and messy hair, and here was the devil, straight out of Cosmo. That wasn’t fair.
“Now, Isis, do you really not know?” He walked over to one of the chairs and sat down, drink in hand.
“You’re not what I was expecting.” That was the honest truth. Was he really the devil?
“Blunt and brutally honest. I like that. But you’re right. I guess I’m not, considering your boss is whatever people have envisioned. I can see why you’re surprised. I’m a little vainer. The horns and flames got old after a while. Besides, horrible for business. Nobody wants any of that.” A capitalist devil. My day was getting better by the minute.
“I can only imagine. But I won’t take too much of your time. I just have a few questions.” This place was a sensory overload,
