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“Drake Michaelson in a monkey suit!” Adam chortled and received a scowl.
James chuckled beside him.
“Phoe, you look freaking amazing!” Kate exclaimed as she rushed forward to greet Phoenix Michaelson with a warm hug and kiss. They were joined by the rest of the Washington ladies, who babbled quite happily as more women climbed out of the limo. Men stood around looking damn uncomfortable, and Drake Michaelson scowled at any paparazzi who dared get close.
Finally, James Washington swept his party away and down to The Parlour, and I busied myself finding the VIP memberships for the Rage MC men and women. Several of the Rage brothers preened and looked comfortable, but most stood stiffly and yanked at their suits. I was bemused at the amount of slaps the ladies dished out, stopping the guys from rumpling their attire too much.
As Brandy led them downstairs, more people entered. I was gratified to see the queue for the general club was just as long as it’d been when we opened. But the membership section was filling up. The Hawthorne’s, names I knew, arrived as a family, and then Dylan Hawthorne’s private investigators followed. Even though they all had memberships, some headed for the main club to check that out while the Hawthorne women, babbling loudly, walked downstairs.
By ten o’clock, I was able to take a break from admitting and confirming members’ IDs, and I headed downstairs. Cami had been acting as hostess while I’d been upstairs, and now we could swap over.
Despite the fact the speakeasy could hold over two hundred and fifty people, it still held an aura of cosiness and privacy. On stage stood one of the acts I’d hired to sing, and a fog machine produced the illusion of smoke. Of course, this was a non-smoking building, but there was a set of stairs which led the members to an open space where they could smoke. This was available only to the members.
“This is amazing!” someone exclaimed as they grabbed my arm.
“Thank you,” I said, recognising a woman called Marsha from Rage.
“Seriously, it’s like we stepped back in time. Every single detail is present, even the smoke! And those little gift bags we were handed on entering! The guys have already been up to smoke their first cigar!” Phoenix announced, smiling.
“Wonderful! I wasn’t sure about the cigarette holders I put into the women’s bags, but they were a done thing,” I replied.
“None of us smoke, but even so, we’ve put a cigarette in and held it between our teeth.” Phoenix giggled.
“The food is also so authentic!” Marsha enthused.
I’d spent a lot of time with my chef over the menu to ensure it was perfect. The feedback I heard felt wonderful. We served lobster canapes, the best crabmeat cocktails, prawn cocktails, devilled eggs, caviar rolls, oysters alongside calamari, truffles, and chicken wings. The chef had included sliders, dumplings, flatbreads with dips, tiny servings of fish and chips, and finally a chicken/tuna/egg salad. For desserts, we’d gone with simple cocktail cups, crème brulee, melon balls dipped in Sherbert, caramel profiteroles, and an ice cream of the day. There was also a cheese and fruit board.
“I’m so glad. People at speakeasys didn’t often eat full meals; they snack more than anything,” I explained.
“Well, those portion sizes are very generous, so trust me, we’ll be back!” Phoenix stated with a huge smile.
“I shall inform the chef. He’ll be pleased his efforts are appreciated,” I replied.
“James Washington owns several women’s clubs. You’ll have to join us there. We go once a fortnight. They’re like an old-fashioned gentleman’s club but for women. It’s funny because we actually do a lot of wheeling and dealing there!” Phoenix exclaimed, and she looked for someone. “Tammy! Can you give me a card for Madisen to join our club?”
“Of course,” Tammy said and dug into her bag before handing me a card.
“You have to apply, and we currently using a waiting list, but if you know the right person…” Tammy winked, and I laughed.
“It’s not what you know but who you know!” I teased, and the women chortled.
Just then, my earpiece went off, and I listened.
“Madisen, please go to your office. Brandy is on her way down to take over hostess duty,” Tami said with a hint of worry.
Extracting myself from the friendly ladies, I moved slowly but deliberately towards the exit. Brandy appeared and offered a sharp nod. Her face was tight, and I could only hope I would not find trouble upstairs.
Before I could approach and ask what was wrong, a client stepped to her side and began talking to her. Shit, there went my advance system. Keeping a smile plastered on, I headed towards my office, which was on the club floor with a view overlooking the club. I opened the door and hissed as the tall, well-dressed, good-looking man turned to me.
“Hello, darlin’,” Derek McKenzie announced from where he sat comfortably.
“Derek, what do I owe this pleasure to?” I asked warily as I moved around my desk to sit down.
“Several reasons, Madisen,a stór,” Derek said, the Irish in his voice present.
“Would you like a drink, Derek?” I offered, keeping my hands in my lap and trying not to fidget.
“Tami was kind enough to get me one,” Derek replied.
