CHAPTER 06 - BARRETT
Tate and I had been to Club Vapor before, and as the limo pulled up to the private VIP entrance around the side of the building at the end of the long and lit up block, a light rain had started to come down. I stared out the window at the huge double doors, flanked by two guys in ill-fitting suits with earpieces conspicuously in place beside dark sunglasses, even at night. They clearly meant business. From the way they carried themselves, possibly ex-military.
Tate grinned at me from the back seat of the limo, waving his glass around enough that liquid sloshed around and spilled over the side. He was already a couple drinks deep, and had offered me one every few minutes the entire ride from the airport, and each time I had declined. “We’re going to have some fun tonight, yes, Barrett?”
I wasn’t entirely sure it was a question. Tate Norman rarely asked questions, especially when he already knew what response he was looking for. I didn’t say anything in response; just grunted. Tate may have been here to have fun, but I was here for one reason — because it was my job.
The rear right door of the limo opened, and I could see one of the hosts standing outside holding an umbrella over the doorway. “Good evening, sir,” a voice from outside the car said.
Tate got out of the car, and after a moment of peace inside the now-empty limo, I followed him. By the time I got out, the host was graciously thanking Tate for frequenting Club Vapor and assuring him that they had saved the best table in the VIP section for us. Tate nodded, clearly not listening to whatever the host was saying. The bouncers didn’t even look at us, or if they did, I couldn’t tell from behind those shades.
The bouncers, keeping perfect time, opened the giant double doors after we took our first step as a group toward them, and by the time we arrived they had just finished opening. I cracked a small smile at the choreography of it all. In my line of work, practice and routine were appreciated, and I took the opportunity to notice it in regular life too.
The host whisked us immediately to the VIP section above the main floor of Club Vapor, and, with a flourish, seated us at a huge table almost entirely encircled by a comfortable leather couch. “I trust, gentlemen, that this table meets with your approval?” The host asked, piteously, as two scantily clad waitresses began uncorking bottles of champagne and liquor and pouring fresh mixers into their containers.
Tate didn’t even look at him, just nodded and waved him away. The host bowed low, a huge smile on his face, and backed away without turning. “I’ll leave you two gentlemen in Jamie and Carrie’s capable hands,” he said, pointing to the two waitresses, who smiled at Tate, who managed a half-hearted smile back and another wave.
I sat back on the couch and watched the dance floor below. Dancing held a particular fascination for me. Everything I had been taught and all my experience had instilled in me an appreciation for the economy of movement, of being still when it was possible, so that when the time came, I was able and ready to snap into action.
Dancing ran completely counter to all that training. Dancing was movement for the sake of moving — for the sake of expressing oneself, and relating to others.
These were all concepts that were more than a little foreign to me these days. It had been a long time since I had felt the desire to express myself, or relate to someone else.
A tap on my shoulder brought my out of my reverie. I looked up and saw one of the waitresses smiling down at me. “Can I get you anything, sir?” She asked, giving me a look similar to the one the flight attendant had thrown my way an hour earlier. Her hand was still on my shoulder.
“What do you have?” I hadn’t looked over at all the bottles they’d opened as we sat down.
“For you, sir? Anything.” She waved at the array of bottles. “If it’s not here, I can go get it from downstairs.”
“I’ll have a Moscow Mule, please.” I liked things with lots of ginger in them — in my experience, you could never keep your stomach too happy.
She clapped her hands together. “My favorite! Good choice. Coming right up.”
The waitress bounced away, leaving me once again to stare down at the dancers below. I was just settling back in when Tate moved over next to me.
“Our waitresses look good tonight,” he said, leaning in and watching the one that was left make his drink.
I nodded. “Not a surprise. Club Vapor pulls out all the stops when you come in.” They knew how much money Tate Norman was willing to throw around on a random evening, and they also knew at least some of the extent of Tate’s business connections — keeping Tate Norman happy was very good business in Meridian.
Tate laughed. “You’re right.” The waitress came back with his drink, and he took it from her, smacking her on the ass as she walked away. She giggled. Tate took a sip and looked back at me. “And they fuck, too.”
I sighed and said nothing, hoping against hope that Tate would let it go, and enjoy his evening without forcing the issue. Of course, I already knew that wasn’t going to be the case.
It never was.
Tate poked me in the ribs. “Eh? Barrett? You heard me?”
I made my voice as uninterested as I possibly could, and focused as intently as possible on the beads of sweat appearing on the sides of one of the liquor bottles in front of me. “I heard you, Tate,” I said to the bottle like nothing else existed. “They fuck.”
Tate clapped me on the shoulder again, harder this time. I knew from experience that this was affection for him. He kept his hand on my shoulder and pulled me toward him so he could whisper in my ear. “That’s right, they fuck. You fuck one and I’ll fuck the other, OK?” It came out as louder than a whisper, because Tate Norman couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck about human decency.
Just then my waitress came back up the steps and over to our table, carrying my Moscow Mule reverently on a tray, which thankfully got me out of answering my boss’ question for a few seconds longer.
“Here you go, sir,” the waitress said, dragging her soft finger over my hand as she gave me the cold drink.
“Thanks,” I said, knowing that she hoped I would say something else.
For better or for worse, Tate jumped in. “Treat my friend well, here, Carrie,” Tate said, waving his hand at me. “He’s just come back from a dirty job.” Tate tapped me again on the shoulder. “He had to hurt a lot of people.”
I gave Tate an icy glare, then took a sip of my drink, letting the strong ginger beer slip down my throat and cool me down. The waitress gave Tate a rough look before she caught herself and smiled. “My name is Jamie, sir.”
“And I’m Carrie,” the other one chimed in from off to our left side.
Tate just shrugged.
Jamie focused back on me. “You poor thing,” she said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
I took another sip of my drink and didn’t make eye contact. “Just keep these coming,” I said, noticing half the glass was already empty.
“I’ll do that.” She leaned in closer. “And if there’s anything else I can do to help you relax…”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I whispered back.
As Jamie was standing back up, Tate motioned in her direction and she put her game face on. “Yes, sir, anything I can do for you?”
A wily smile crossed Tate’s face. “We’ll get to that in a little while. For now, come closer.” Jamie stepped closer, till she was in between Tate and I in front of the couch. “If Barrett here doesn’t want to have any fun tonight, that’s his choice. We,” Tate threw his arms out wide along the back of the couch, inviting Carrie and Jamie to sit down, “are going to have fun anyway, right, girls?”
Jamie and Carrie shared a look that I couldn’t quite place before Jamie nodded and they both sat down, one on either side of him. Jamie was closer to me, and I could see that she sat herself to be a little closer to me than to Tate, but I was more interested in my beverage to pay too much attention.
The next thirty minutes passed feeling like they took at least four hours, and Tate spent the entire time trying to impress the waitresses, while they played along, because their continued employment kinda depended on it. I stayed out of the way, watching the people below and continuing to take short pulls from my drink.
As soon as I poured the last sip, Carrie jumped up from her seat and busied herself making me another one, and even Jamie looked a little jealous that Carrie had escaped Tate’s attention for a little while.
Tate took it in stride, and looked at me as Carrie handed me a fresh drink. “Having fun, Barrett?”
I just nodded, still looking forward.
“Girls, my friend Barrett here is always such a stick in the mud. He never has any fun!”
The girls cooed over me, Carrie touching my arm and squeezing a bit.
“How come you can never relax, Barrett?”
I figured Tate would lose interest quickly and get back to what he called flirting with these paid staffers, but a few seconds later, the silence coming from my left told me that Tate expected an answer.
I finally turned to him and spoke. “I’m here to do a job, Tate.” I took a quick sip of the fresh, ice cold drink. “You don’t pay me to have fun.”
Tate snapped his fingers, leaning forward, eyes ablaze with a sudden wolf-life energy. This was the ruthless Tate I knew, the one who had taken over his father’s company and was busy turning it into a behemoth of business, regardless of the legality of his actions.
“Aha, Barrett! That’s the key. I pay you,” he sneered. “You work for me, correct?”
I sighed. “That’s right, Tate. I work for you.”
“And if I say I want you to have fun, you have to have fun, eh?”
I paused. “You are correct. Are you telling me to have fun?”
“I am.” He set his arms back, wide out, encircling the girl on each side, drawing them close to him. Both girls looked at me while Tate smiled. “But get your own girl, Barrett.” He looked between Jamie and Carrie before continuing. “These two are mine tonight.”
“Fine, Tate, I’ll enjoy myself.” I put on a big smile and sat back on the comfortable couch, raising my glass toward Tate. “Better?”
Tate shook his head. “Not good enough, Barrett.” He leaned forward again. “Not nearly good enough.” He stared straight ahead, over the railing down toward the dance floor below. After a few seconds he smiled. “I want you to go down there, Barrett,” Tate said.
“Huh?”
“Go down there and have a good time. We tried it the easy way,” he pointed toward Carrie and Jamie, “but you seem to like a challenge more than anything. So I’m giving you one.” He leaned toward me. “Go down there and have fun. Don’t come back till tomorrow, and don’t leave here alone. Understood?”
“Do you really want to do this, Tate?”
“Absolutely.” He stared me down. “I’m not entirely convinced this life is the one for you, Barrett. If it were, you’d be able to relax tonight and blow off some steam.” He leaned back and smiled at the girls before continuing. “We have many, many dangerous things to do before Norman’s position is solidified, and I need to know I can trust you with what’s to come. And,” he added with a smile, “I can’t trust someone who doesn’t know how to have a good time. I’ll see you back at the office. Tomorrow at 10am. Don’t be late, Barrett.”
The look on Tate’s face made it clear that he meant business, so without another word, I nodded, and stood up, leaving my barely-started drink on the glass table in front of me. I nodded at Tate and at Carrie, who clearly didn’t want me to leave.
I felt Tate’s eyes on my back as I headed toward the staircase that lead down from the VIP area to the main floor. The music got louder and louder as I got closer and closer - I looked back up and realized just how well the acoustics were tuned up in VIP so people could talk amongst themselves without shouting, yet still hear the music wafting up from below.
That wasn’t really the case down here on the main level. Everything was waves of sound constantly crashing against my ears. I looked around for something to do, and for the first time in a long time I felt a little out of my element. My particular skills were on the battlefield, or under cover of night, in situations where things needed to be done quickly, efficiently, and silently.
Club Vapor was neither of those situations.
First, stop, I decided, was the bar. Carrie had made me a couple excellent drinks, and I’d only been one sip into the second one when I left the VIP section, and already I could feel myself getting thirsty. I located the nearest bar and started walking toward it, moving past the groups of people having fun dancing to the beat.
I had just cleared a path to the bar when I stopped dead in my tracks.
Holy Shit.
I blinked, and had I been wearing field glasses, I would have checked them to see if they were broken. I looked again and she was still there. She wasn’t quite looking at me yet.
I didn’t know her - I was quite sure I had never even laid eyes on her before.
I was sure of that because she was by far the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.
I made up my mind before I even knew what I was doing, and I was walking toward her. I was mesmerized, and I didn’t let anything get in my way.
I just had to talk to her — forgetting Tate’s words rattling around in my head.
After a few seconds, she turned as if she knew I was coming, looking around as if searching for something or someone. When she looked in my direction and we locked eyes, I saw her stop.
Holy shit. Again.
This was something else entirely.
I stopped in front of her and said the first thing that came to mind. “You look like you were waiting for something.”