Chapter Eleven
"Was that guy a problem for you?" said the big bartender named Rupert. He was actually a sweet guy, despite how intimidating he looked. That was all part of his love for body building though. They were starting to clean up the bar, wiping down the surfaces and getting things washed for the next day. There were still a few hangers-on, guys who had no one to go home to mostly, and a few small groups of barely legal young men who were still going strong. Apart from them, and the two strippers still on duty, the place was empty.
"Not really. He was nicer than most of these sleazy old bastards," replied Opal.
"You'll get used to those guys. It's the ones who actually want to get to know you I'd watch out for."
"You get a lot of guys hitting on you in here?" she said, stacking up dirty glasses on a rack, ready for the dish washing machine. "Wait, do you get any gay guys coming in here?"
"We do have ladies’ night, which is always my favorite time of the week," said Rupert.
"I'll bet. With all those drooling women looking for some action. You must have your pick of any one of them."
"Actually, I'm much more interested in the strippers."
"Really? Oh, oh, wow. So you bat for the other team, huh?"
"I sure do. Don't tell me, you've always wanted a gay friend, right?"
"Doesn't every woman?" she replied. Rupert just sighed with a smile and went to take a drink order from a guy who was waving his money around like an ass. There was a squat guy with an out of fashion hat walking toward her. He had not been present in the club moments earlier, but it was a bit strange to have someone coming in so late.
"Are you here to pick someone up, sir?" asked Opal. The guy took his hat off, put it on the bar, and sat down right in front of her.
"Actually, I was looking to offer you a job. Your name's Opal, right?"
"Sure. I'm not interested in stripping though, or anything else like that."
"My name's Carl. I heard that you caught the eye of a young man who was in here earlier, made quite and impression without even trying." Carl looked her over, not in a creepy way really. It was more like he was trying to figure her out. "I can see why you might catch my nephew's eye. You seem nice enough, and that is surely a rarity among the women he frequently defiles."
"You make him sound just lovely. Look, I still have work to get done before I can get out of here for the night. Did you want a drink, Carl?"
"Sure, I'll have some top shelf bourbon, on the rocks. I don't plan to take up your time if I'm not a paying customer." Opal went to get the drink for him, and brought it back. "This is twenty-one years, but it's expensive, I'm afraid."
Carl tasted it and shrugged. "Not too bad I guess. It'll do." He put down his credit card and Opal made the charge at the cash register. "So," he continued, "are you interested in making far more than you could hope to earn here, even more than these young ladies with no shame up on the stage?"
"What do you want me to do for that kind of pay?"
"I just want you to get to know my nephew enough to get some good dirt on him. You probably guessed that he hasn't done a lot of good in his short life. Well, he needs to be brought to justice. I need some evidence that he has not been living a good life. The problem is, he has the best damn lawyer around, and she doesn't mind buying people off. I can't prove any of this, as you might imagine. Boyd's one weakness is women, but a woman who is too good for him? She might be just the one to infiltrate all his bullshit and lies."
Opal was taken aback. She picked up her bottom lip and moved her tongue around to add moisture back to her dry mouth. "So, what, you want me to date him or something?"
"Just pretend you're interested in him. Find some solid evidence of law breaking, hookers, drugs, drink driving, I don't care. I know he's been doing it all. That bitch, Felicia, has just covered everything up to well for even my guys to find out. Look, I'm not telling you any more, sorry. Do you want to make an easy ten grand or not?"
"I want that much, whether I find anything or not."
"You're joking. I'll find someone else."
"Yeah, sure, I'll bet he always leaves his secret documents lying around in front of the loose women he brings home from bars." Opal walked off, leaving Carl with his expensive bourbon and melting ice cubes. He just sat there and drank it, not trying to talk to her. He made a few phone calls too, keeping his voice low. A guy came in and spoke to him, a tall man in a black coat. They discussed something for about ten minutes, and then the man left. Opal noticed that he'd been standing outside the whole time, near the entrance to the strip club.
"Can I talk to you again, young lady?" Carl said when Opal was near him, wiping some broken peanuts off the end of the bar that she'd missed earlier.
"Do you need another drink, sir?"
"Forget the sir crap. Call me Carl. Are we in business or what?"
"That depends. How much are you offering for such a morally corrupt act? I wouldn't even be talking to you if I wasn't desperate, so make it good."
"You're not the best negotiator, are you? Let me guess, you're an artist? If you're desperate for money, you'll take ten grand."
"I was until recently a very highly paid artist. I plan to go back to that level of financial comfort, at least until I can get back on my feet. I want twenty-five thousand dollars or you can leave. And I need five of that up front."
"Twenty and you get it all once you're done."
"Rupert, this guy's bothering me," she called over half-heartedly. Rupert looked but didn't seem worried by Carl.
"Fine, twenty-five. Give me your bank details. The initial money will be there by the morning. I'm not stupid, and I don't trust you much. I do think you're smart enough to know, if you screw me over, you won't be happy."
"Good. Do you think I'll really be able to find what you're looking for?"
"If you're not a total ditz, and I sincerely doubt that even though you work in a shit hole--you'll be able to get something to prove that Boyd's a no good punk. The amount of shit that kid gets up to, a brick wall could convince him to break the law. Just make sure that you don't get found out, and you don't lead any attention back over to me. Got that? Here, write down the details." He pushed a little notepad and a golden fountain pen toward her on the bar. Opal wrote out her account details, sure that it was a waste of time.
"Yeah, yeah, sure thing, Carl. Would you please excuse me though? I really need to get back to work. This has been a productive discussion after all."
"Sure, get cute. See how far that'll get you in life, girlie." Carl got up and left. Opal wasn't quite sure what to make of this new development, but she would be amazed if there was any money in her bank the next morning.
She'd been very wrong. There was a nice chunk of change right in her bank account when she woke up and checked online. It seemed like every Christmas morning mashed up into that one moment. And life had been so crappy lately! She could pay all those bills, and guarantee that things would keep going well for herself, and her mother, at least for another month or so. It looked like the old guy wasn't totally full of shit.
Of course, now she needs to make good on her part of the deal and see if she can convince this Boyd guy to fall for some bad acting. And it was going to take a lot of acting to pretend she didn't find him disgusting … although he did have a certain rough charm about him that she hated herself for liking.