Bianca stood face-to-face with Sammy. “Next time, go another way.” She then slipped into the backseat.
“Yes, ma’am.” Sammy closed the door and did a light jog back into the driver’s seat. “Where to?” He looked over his shoulder as he closed the door.
“There’s this place my girlfriend was telling me about,” Bianca said. “The Den, the Dungeon, I don’t know, something like that.”
Sammy’s eyes widened. “I know what you’re talking about. The Den. And trust me, a nice girl like you don’t want to go anywhere near that spot.” He turned around and put the car in drive. “I know a better spot that you’ll love. It’s over on—”
“Sammy,” Bianca said in a singsong voice, “I’m the customer, and you have to take the customer where she wants to go.”
Sammy sighed. “I do not recommend you to go there. Especially since you are not a dancer and into that kind of thing. You seem like a nice lady. I’m telling you—”
Bianca cut Sammy off again, but this time with just the wagging of her index finger.
“Okay, ma’am, whatever you say.”
As they made the twenty-five minute drive, Sammy did what a cabbie does and told Bianca some of the history of Miami. He told her where to shop, where to eat, where to relax and enjoy the beaches, and where to go out for a good time. One thing for certain, The Den was not on that list.
“You know, very bad people hang out at this spot,” Sammy said as they approached a red light. He nodded forward, so Bianca figured her final destination must have been just up the block. “Bad men.”
Bianca leaned up. “What makes you think a girl like me don’t like a bad man?” Bianca was being silly, using a fake Jamaican accent.
“I’m serious,” Sammy warned, not in a playful mood at all as the light turned green and he proceeded to drive.
“Oh, relax, Sammy.” Bianca laughed and leaned back in her seat. “You’re acting like a worried father. I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay.”
Sammy paused for a minute. “It’s just that I do have a daughter your age. I’d never drop her off at a place like this, or want anybody else to, for that matter, so I don’t feel comfortable dropping you off here either.” Sammy seemed sincere as he tried to hide his emotions.
“Awww,” Bianca said as she texted Yogi to let her know that she was almost there. She then told Sammy, “I appreciate that. I’ve never had a daddy to care. Feels good, but I know how to handle myself. I’ll be fine.”
Sammy pulled up in front of a club that didn’t look nearly as bad as Sammy had made it out to be. “Here we are.” Sammy sighed. He shook his head, still not too thrilled about dropping Bianca off there. “You’re going to need me to come to get you. You’re not going to find another cabbie to come pick you up here.”
“Yeah, I’ve got your number, Sammy,” Bianca said as she pulled another hundred-dollar bill out of her purse to give to him.
He took the money, gave out one last sigh, and then walked around to let Bianca out of the car.
“Thank you,” Bianca said, stepping out of the car with the assistance of Sammy.
“I’m going to hang out here for a couple of minutes just in case you walk into the place and change your mind.”
Bianca put her hand on her hip. “Sammy, you can go. I’ll call you later. I’m good. Geesh.” She smiled, shaking her head.
That really must be what it feels like to have a father figure worry about you, she thought. Initially, Bianca had thought she was going to have a different kind of relationship with Sammy. She thought it was going to be the barely legal, young girl–dirty old man kind of relationship, but here ol’ Sammy was turning out to be a thoughtful old man. Bianca preferred that type of relationship anyway.
As far as the line of people outside the club shooting the breeze, they didn’t look like any type of weirdos or any different than the patrons at any other club she might have gone to. This club had the usual bouncer standing outside, not only to check ID, but staged to intimidate anyone who might be there to cause trouble. However, no matter how big a bouncer was, they never seemed to deter trouble. If trouble was meant to happen, it was going to happen. Tonight, Bianca was looking for trouble with a capital T. She hadn’t been doing the club scene while she dated Caesar, and now she felt like a single woman on the prowl.
Once Bianca got up to the bouncer, without him even having to ask, Bianca stepped to him with her purse wide open. “Take a look.”
The only thing inside her little clutch was cash, lip-gloss, Sammy’s business card, and her hotel room key. Tucked in the zipper compartment were several Ecstasy and Molly pills. But he was still looking.
“I don’t have anything to hide,” she said, immediately wishing she hadn’t. People who said they had nothing to hide usually had everything to hide.
The bouncer looked her up and down. “I bet you don’t, ma.” He looked her over again. “You good,” he said and pointed her to the window.
“Fifty dollars,” the dry, expressionless lady told her when she got to the window.
“Okay, but Yogi said that she left my name here with you.”
“What’s your name?”
“Bianca Williams.”
The woman looked at another piece of paper with some chicken scratch written on it. Meanwhile, two gentlemen just walked past without paying or stopping to say anything to her.
“ID, please,” she said to Bianca.
Bianca passed the woman her ID, and she examined it. “G’on ’head.”
Bianca was surprised by just how large the inside of the club was. From the outside, it looked like
