Caro pulled up with a screech of her tires, as if she were avoiding rear-ending another vehicle.
“Hey sexy! Cuanto cuesta?” Caro shouted, laughing at her own joke as she rolled her window down. I strode over and pulled on the handle to the door, it remained locked.
“What’s the magic word?” she said.
“It’s fuckin cold, hurry up,” I replied. She unlocked the door, continuing to laugh as I entered the car.
She had a nice car, good for blending into the majority of situations we found ourselves in. It was several years behind the model year, but Caro kept it in pristine condition. I turned the heater up as I leaned my chair back.
“Seat belt,” she said to me.
I glanced over and rolled my eyes. I knew it was of no use to argue with her, and so I latched my seat belt. As, I did she pulled out to advance us towards our destination. I sat in silence for several minutes, trying to determine the thousand possible outcomes for this evening. Caro reached over and grabbed my side hard.
“Hey, what’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, just getting my mind right for tonight.”
“Ugh, you’re all cranky. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken your meds,” she said, making me produce an irritated expression. “Danielle, I’m kidding. Please relax, you stress me out when you’re all high strung. I just want to have fun tonight. Come on.”
“Okay.”
“Hey,” she said, sliding her hand up the inside of my leg and gripping my thigh tightly with her nails, “I need a little bit of that dark side tonight, are you with me?”
Her nails awakened my shadow quickly. I grabbed her wrist tightly, making a breath of air escape her. I placed her hand back on the steering wheel.
“Don’t you worry,” I replied, “You’ll get more than a little bit tonight.”
She grinned.
We pulled up to the club valet and exited the vehicle. Caro tossed her keys at the valet attendant and strode to the door as if she was making a red carpet appearance. A line wrapped around the wall of the club, strangers standing outside waiting for their chance to get into the warm air and enjoy their night. This was a relatively high-end club for such an undeserving crowd to be so eager to attempt to get in. The majority of them would never see the inside of these doors. The owner was selective about his clients and knew they required their privacy. However, word spreads about a selective, high-end establishment, and everyone wants to take their chances that they might get chosen. They’d like to pretend to partake in the glamorous life, or what they thought was the glamorous life.
As we walked up, the front men parted like the Red Sea. They knew not to question Caro by now, not to mention the owner of this establishment happened to be Franklin, and they knew we were likely on business.
“Carolina,” one said with a slight bow. Caro walked by without acknowledgment.
This particular club was an unusual combination of class and sleaze. It was elegant inside, fancy bars, top shelf liquor only, velvet, and crystal chandeliers, like one might be attending a ball of some sort, but the clientele were rich douche bags, wanting to act out their sins in a safe place. Needless to say, we fit in well. There was no loud music, or DJ playing the latest mix of whatever hip hop song was popular. There was simply a jazz band entertaining with a low hum of relaxing yet upbeat music. Smoke clouds lifted over various tables as people smoked cigarettes, cigars, or joints. Caro grabbed my hand and guided me to the bar. She placed her purse on the counter, raised her hand slightly above the counter, and a bartender quickly came over.
“Yes, ma’am,” said the bartender with a douchey grin, “What can I get for you?”
He was a tall, muscular, Hispanic guy with a fade, his facial hair trimmed into a perfect line. His teeth shone with bad intentions in a flawless row of pearly whites. I hung back as Caro got our order.
“I’ll have a Mexican Martini, and she’ll have,” she glanced back at me, “a Whiskey and Coke.”
“You got it, sexy,” he said.
“Excuse me?” Caro said with a halt, “What did you just say to me?”
“I said whatever you want, sexy,” he said with another smile.
Caro looked over her right shoulder, then her left. “Oh, sweetheart, I know you’re not talking to me,” Caro replied with a seductive smile.
“Oh, yes, ma’am, I am,” said the bartender, attempting to reach for Caro’s hand.
“Do you know who I am?” she said, retaining the same sweet composure, while simultaneously retracting her hand from his reach.
“No, but I’d like to,” he said, seemingly under the impression that he was making headway with Caro. I snickered to myself on the sidelines.
“Yeah?” Caro said with a beckoning finger.
“Hell yeah,” he responded, leaning in.
“Mother fucker, I’m that one you don’t ask about, the one you don’t know, the one you never saw,” she whispered to him, then suddenly shouted across the bar, “Can someone else get me a fuckin’ drink?”
I laughed as three more bartenders strode over quickly, realizing the situation, expressing their apologies, and relieving the other bartender of his duties. He had a look of bewilderment as they sent him away from the scene. Caro took up her drink and turned to me as I cast a look of amusement in her direction.
“What?” she asked, “He’s gonna learn some goddamn manners today.”
“Caro, you never cease to entertain me,” I said with a smile.
“Fucking men,” she replied, taking a swig of her drink. She handed me my drink and outstretched her hand in expectance of mine, “I’ll show you entertainment.”
I took the drink and her hand, as she led me to the nearly vacant dance
