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I snort a laugh and then look at the large cavernous space that is Hush. We bought the club a few years ago as an experiment to bring in some legitimate money. As well as laundering a shit ton through it as well, but Hush has become its own thing. It became a success without us even lifting a finger. That credit goes to Dee, the Manager. This is her baby, really. I can see her working behind the bar, running the workers in circles to get set up for the night.
This evening is mostly a private event, but so Piovere looks legit we made it a secret show too. Only announced it hours ago. It's a high ticket entry, which will keep out the riff raff, but even then, it’ll sell out. It’s gonna be a big night.
“Why haven’t you fucked Dee yet?” Marco asks, coming up beside me and talking with his usual candor.
“Cause I don’t mix business and pleasure.”
“Well you should learn to,” he says, adjusting his suit pants. “It’s a lot more fuckin’ fun, and lot less fuck’n boring.” He grins and goes to the side table, pours himself another rum, pivots and tops mine off too. “You know soon you’ll realize, you need to relax. Stop being so close to the grindstone. Let off some steam and learn to trust others.”
“You sound like my father,” I say, taking the glass of liquor from him.
“He’s a smart man,” Marco says. “Plus, not as grumpy as you.”
“I’m not grumpy,” I snap a little too quickly.
“Well if you ain’t grumpy, you’ve definitely got a big spoon jammed up somewhere,” Marco laughs.
There’s a cheer from behind us and we turn to see the doors opening. The music jumps up in volume and people start pouring in. The bass vibrates up through my shoes and my suit tightens. Even with a late announcement, even with a high ticket entry, it’s still busy as anything. I spot Maurice entering immediately and watch as he’s led to the VIP section. He’s as big as a house and built like a solid wall. Maurice is a runner we know who moves drugs from Fort Lauderdale all the way up to New York. He takes no shit from anyone.
“Looks like it’s game time chief,” Marco says, slapping me on the back and downing his rum. “Let’s get down there.”
“Do I need to remind you who runs this show?” I ask, half annoyed at his casualness now.
“Not particularly, cause I know it’s you,” Marco says. “Which allows me to have some fun.”
He turns and waltzes to the office door and opens it, the music blares into the room and suddenly the bass that I’ve been feeling in my body turns bright in my ears. The piercing synth drives into a latin feel beat and soon all I want to do is dance.
I make myself watch Marco leave and then observe the floor once more. I’m nervous, but I’m not so young as to let it affect me. I’ve done big things like this before. But hopefully this time, if all goes right. It leads to even better things.
I finish my rum and leave the office too, locking it behind me. The music swells and soon the DJ begins upping the Piovere brand and the evening’s run time. People cheer and I can feel the energy in the room getting hot. Itisgoing to be a fun night.
In no time I’m passing Dee and the bar staff, offering a wink of good luck, then climbing the steps and ducking behind the curtains for the changing area for the models. I’m suddenly surrounded by gorgeous women. There’s more tanned skin here than a leather yard and most of it is showing, as the models run back and forth making last minute adjustments. I hold myself from staring and look for Adrian, the man running theactualshow.
I spy him by the entrance to the catwalk, he’s marking off his own checklists. Certain dresses are highlighted, representing the special cargo dresses, and others have asterisks next to them.
“Adrian, my man,” I say, hugging him from the side. “Where’s Tommy gone?”
“Thank god someone here is taking this seriously,” he says, not looking up. “I've just had the pleasure of talking with your right hand man.” He looks at me as if Marco’s a dog I have to reel in. “And as for Tommy, I don’t care. I just kicked him out. He was demanding that one of the girls lose another pound. The poor thing hasn’t eaten since last week to begin with.”
I shake my head at Tommy but can’t help a laugh at Marco. “Yeah, well Marco is a little excited for tonight,” I say.
“Alittle?” Adrian says, pulling the mic away from his cheek and marking off another list. “The man practically had a hard-on strutting through the changing area.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t,” I laugh.
Adrian rolls his eyes and gets back to double checking the roster “Either way, we’re good to go. Maurice has arrived and already made orders of a few things. Sent ahead earlier. I’ve asterisked those. I believe Wendy-Lee just arrived with her entourage too.” He nods to the entrance.
We both lean out between the curtains and view the crowd in the dark. The room is packed, people are pushing closer to the catwalk. It’s the first time Piovere has done something like this. But it won’t necessarily be the last.
I spy Wendy-Lee, the Middle-Aged Mauler, as she’s called, making her way to the VIP zone. She buys and sells high quantities of drugs to the retirement villages here in the Sunshine State.
“We’re on in five,” Adrian says, holding up his hand.
It’s my queue to leave, the music swells again and the beat changes. Suddenly it’s a bouncy number and a few of the models begin dancing as they prepare themselves. I let my eyes linger on a few women as I make my way back to the dance floor. I better check in with the VIPs before anything else happens. They’re my special guests afterall, and even if the whole party is a sham, I need to play the part. I wish a few of the girls goodluck and make my way to the exit. I notice the eyes following me too. My father's words from the day before ring in my ear.You need to settle down and find someone you can love. None of the hussies you bring home and then have my valet service drop off in the morning.”
I laugh and descend the steps back into the club and begin wiggling through the bodies. I can see Marco already up with the VIP people chatting away. He nods and waves at me and I see Wendy-Lee trapped with him, she gives me narrowed eyes, a clear request to save her. I can’t help but laugh. A light feeling has entered my chest, all the stress of the last few weeks feels like it can finally roll off. I squeeze between a group of people and suddenly find water splashing my face and suit.
No, not water.
