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She’s wearing a parrot green pantsuit, not a gaudy shade but more of a just-off-the-runway in Paris shade.
I wonder where she got it from. It looks expensive. Her hair is tied back into a sleek ponytail, not a hair out of place.
Her skin is dewy, lightly shaded in a palette of golden bronzes.
She’s wearing jewelry, two single pearl studs, and a delicate pearl drop necklace.
They don’t match, yet there’s a cohesiveness to it. Thought was put behind it.
“You ready?” she asks.
I say nothing. I simply open the door and help her into the passenger seat. The Ferrari purrs as though she is smitten with Emily, and we drive off.
I explain where the office is and that our businesses dabble in running casinos, offering off-the-book loans, financing small businesses, and running the largest off-the-record operation for pan-nation shipments.
She doesn’t ask what shipments, and I don’t care to explain.
She doesn’t want me to disappoint her, and I don’t want to scare her.
We reach the decrepit building, a disguise for what it entails. She doesn’t look shocked.
Why? Most people would be shocked to learn of a large operation working out of these quarters.
I hand her a tap card. “Carry this, or you won’t be let in,” I say.
She nods and tucks it away. I use mine to tap us in, and once we’re inside, it feels more Carlisi.
If it’s decrepit outside, then the inside is the very contradiction to that.
I watch her to see how she reacts. Her eyes linger over the enormous lobby, filled with lush plants and exotic artifacts.
The walls are painted red and gold, a contrast of color that is both regal and modern.
The lobby is topped off with high ceilings and gold accents that run along the trimmings of the room.
Marble floors are sparkling from being recently polished.
Large chandeliers dangle from the ceiling, providing an air of luxury and opulence.
One wall has several flat-screen TVs playing news updates and stock prices in tandem.
A long mahogany bar in one corner with gleaming bottles of rare liquor and wine.
Behind it is a bartender dressed in all black, looking out through hooded eyes as if he’s seeing us, but his attention lies elsewhere in some mysterious place that only he knows about.
“This is quite something,” Emily says.
But I can read people, and she’s just saying what she thinks she needs to.
If I could dig into her head, I’d like to know why she’s so nonchalant about this.
Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to her. Because she’s always a mystery to me.
“The bar is free-flow for employees, post 6 p.m.”
“Of course,” she scoffs, shaking her head at me.
“Hey,” I protest. “Work hard, play hard, right?”
