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“Well, as much as I’d like to, I can’t fault him there. They are magnificent,” Sawyer whispered, his hot breath close to her ear as he leaned across the bar.
Beth huffed out a breath and looked down at the girls. “Even if they do belong to a fat, old bitch,” she responded ruefully.
“Hey!” Sawyer suddenly stood to his full height and pointed a finger her way. “That kind of talk will earn you a spanking.”
Beth held her hands up in front of her. “Hey, I’m just quoting him, verbatim,” she defended. “You can’t blame me for that.”
A look like thunder clouded Sawyer’s Mediterranean looking features. “The guy was an ass. You deserve better.”
Beth chuckled. “Well, at least that’s something we can both agree on. Now I just have to hope there’s someone else out there… three someone’s.” She said that last bit softly. Maybe too softly for him to even hear, and that dull cloud descended again as she realized the futility.
“Miss Cohen?” A new voice interrupted her latest lapse into a mental pity party and Beth looked up into a pair of friendly eyes in an attractive face. Closely followed by a very nervous looking woman, a similar age to herself, who looked completely out of place, dressed, as she was, in a conservative navy skirt suit.
“I’m Greg Taylor, the manager of Iniquity, and this is Vivica Jones, the events planner. I understand there’s been a bit of an incident this evening. Would you mind coming to my office so we can have a chat about it?”
Beth sighed. She didn’t really want to rake over the ashes of her disappointment, but she doubted she really had a choice, no matter how politely he put it. And maybe it would be better than sitting alone in her fancy penthouse surrounded by luxury and focused on what a total loser she was.
She already knew that kind of headspace wasn’t healthy for her, but it wasn’t always possible to avoid it. Damage limitation was probably the best option right now.
“Fine,” she said, gesturing for him to lead the way.
She followed him through a nondescript door off the reception area, which she’d barely noticed before, and found herself in what was obviously the ‘working’ part of the club. In stark contrast to the dimly lit decadence of the dungeon, this space was bright and utilitarian, but still comfortable with plush carpet and framed prints on the wall which looked like they charted the construction of the club from start to finish.
Greg waited by the door of a comfortable office and gestured for her to take a seat in one of the plush, curved-back club chairs. He sat across from her, rather than behind his desk, which kept things blessedly informal. The event planner trotted in nervously behind them, still wringing her hands like she was about to get hauled over the coals.
“I’m so sorry you were exposed to some of the less pleasant visitors to Iniquity. You can rest assured that all three of them have been dealt with and will no longer be bothering any of our patrons.”
“All three of them?” Beth queried.
“That’s right. The… gentleman you were unfortunate enough to encounter at the bar, and the two friends who accompanied him.”
Greg leaned his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. “Obviously we are very careful with our clientele, and the majority respect the lifestyle and the regulations that keep everybody safe. Unfortunately, some still, occasionally, slip through our processes, but I hope you will appreciate that we do our best to weed them out pretty quickly.”
Beth nodded and pursed her lips. “Indeed,” she replied. “Your speed in dealing with the situation was impressive, and no doubt having the right staff goes a long way towards ensuring that… or not, as the case may be,” she replied coolly. She was still pissed that whoever manned the bar last night had sold out to the detriment of the girl last night.
“You sound like you have a gripe, Ms. Cohen,” Greg remarked, easing back into a sitting position at her veiled criticism.
“I do,” she told him in no uncertain terms. “I was here last night when a scene was stopped…”
“We reserve the right to do that if we think there’s a danger to anyone involved,” he interrupted, misconstruing her words as a criticism.
“Yes, and I was impressed with how quickly your monitors intervened,” she continued, subtly correcting him. “But it’s probably fair to say that the scene should never have been allowed to start.”
Greg frowned. “And why is that exactly?” he asked. Beth didn’t think he appreciated her observation, but he tolerated it, instead of trying to shut her down.
“Because…” Beth informed him, leaning forward as she did so. “It involved those same three guys you just threw out, and I happened to overhear the one at the bar try to bribe your bartender into allowing them to have more than their two-drink limit.”
“I can assure you that Sawyer is beyond reproach,” Greg argued, his eyebrows beetling together. “He was the one who activated the silent alarm to call security.”
“I’m well aware of that, Mr. Taylor,” she said coolly. “But that lad also bragged that he’d done the same with the barman last night, with better results.”
Greg sucked in a breath and leaned over to grab a pen off of his desk and write a quick note. “I see,” he said grimly. “Obviously I haven’t had the chance to speak to Sawyer yet, but I can assure you that I will get his version of events and check into your allegations.”
Beth raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure it won’t be difficult. You have cameras all over the bar area.”
He looked up at her in surprise. “We do,” he confirmed. “But I didn’t think they were that obvious.”
Beth smiled. “I notice a lot of things, Mr. Taylor. I find it pays to be observant.”
