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I’ve been so consumed with Spencer, her piece of shit fiancee, and Grant Maddox, that I’ve left so much piled on Riot’s shoulders. As I skim the computer in the back office though, it dawns on me that he’s truly done a fantastic job getting things in order.
We have 6 new girls on the books, all legit, new liquor distributors, and upgrades to the main stage. He had Zeke install a high level security system that spans every inch of the club, including surveillance of the private rooms, biometric locks on the office, basement, and security room doors, and a club-wide lockdown system for emergencies.
Color me fucking impressed.
Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I unlock the screen and bring up my messages.
Me: I’m fucking impressed kid. Between Jim, and buttoning shit up with Afterlife, you’ve gotten it done.
Riot: Thanks boss, it was nothing. Zeke had a hand in it all.
Me: Good. Up his pay then.
Me: How’s she doing?
Riot: She’s a little…
Me: …?
Riot: Well her and I are friends now, so that’s a win. But she’s pissed off at you still. You’re going to need to talk to her tonight. She’s burning off steam melting your credit card in every terminal of the Havok Hills Mall though.
Me: Ha! Alright, well keep her busy just a couple more hours. I have some weight to pull around here.
Riot: You got it boss.
Me: Hey kid, one last thing.
Riot: Yeah?
Me: What did you get out of Jim?
Riot: File went to Grant when Ryker died. Must have been an automation.
Me: Thanks.
Interesting.
Pocketing my phone, I leave the office and head for the storage room. Bending at the knees, I squat down and pick up a stack of boxes containing barware. Slowly and carefully, I carry the boxes out to the bar area, setting them down on the floor next to the sink.
It’s too quiet in here, so I pull my phone and earbuds from my pocket. Placing the earbuds in my ears, I swipe through my playlists and choose a throwback list to get me through the tedious process of unpacking and cleaning glasses.
By the time I unpack the first box and move to the sink with the first glass tumbler, the song changes and I’m catapulted back to the first time I ever kissed Spencer. I’m back to a place and a time that’s been etched into my soul for 15 fucking years.
“Okay, you pick one,” she says, popping her gum, and handing the iPod over to me as Adam Lazara’s voice fades into the background.
One earbud is in her ear, and the other is in mine. More than just a way to pass the time, this is how we connect. Words have never come easy to either of us, but music? Well that shit is our love language. We used to make each other mixed CDs when we were a little younger, our way of talking to each other in a language that only the both of us understood.
Smiling, I change the song and "Konstantine" hums through the earbuds, invading my very soul.
Thanks to the slowly dropping temperatures, the shingles of the roof are cool to the touch, and I can see my breath when I talk. Stars glitter the night sky, and there’s not a cloud in sight.
Turning my head to the side, my eyes meet hers. She’s staring at me expectantly.
“You would pick SoCo. You’re so emo,” she giggles, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Hey, this song is fucking amazing ok?” I smile lazily.
“Yeah,” she sighs “it really is though.”
