“Sorry, Violet, gotta make a pit stop on the way home.”
A few minutes later, we’re pulling into the parking lot of Genesis. I knew this was one of Killian’s clubs a long time ago. Ray pointed it out to me before and I suggested we go in. He never wanted to. I thought it was a little weird, since he frequently talked about Killian.
“Should I wait here?” I ask.
“No, come in. Have a glass of wine or a cocktail while you wait. I just have to deal with a staff member who’s been stealing from me.”
“Deal with?” My body is tense.
“She’s had some till shortfalls on her shift, so we started watching closer. The amounts got larger and we now have camera footage showing it isn’t just poor math skills. This won’t stand.”
Is he only going to fire her? Or is she about to learn that screwing over Killian Coulter will not stand in some other way?
What does that mean, though?
A shiver trills up my spine.
“I’ll bring the stir fry stuff inside, so the chicken doesn’t spoil in the car. One sec. Wait there. I’ll get your door.”
Why does he have to open and close my door for me? I want to ask, but I decide not to.
He opens my door after I hear the trunk slam and then he’s reaching for my hand to help me out. His other hand has two large paper bags with twine handles from a gourmet grocery store near my office.
I pull my hand back as soon as it feels like it won’t be rude to do so and his hand moves to the small of my back and it stays there the whole time he leads me toward the door, across the vast parking lot. He’s parked in the very back of it instead of right by the door.
“No reserved spot for the boss?” I ask.
“Best parking spots are always for the paying customers,” he tells me. “Especially on a Friday night.”
I smile as we step in and I take in the interior as we’re greeted by a hostess who immediately gets on a phone saying, “Killian’s here.”
The décor of this club is beautiful. Everything is black, burgundy, and rich-looking. Staff members move about wearing black and white with long burgundy aprons tied around their waists.
An attractive blonde woman of about thirty or thirty-five, dressed in a little black dress and burgundy strappy shoes comes toward us. She’s got her hair in a bun and no jewelry on other than a wristwatch, so while she’s dressed like she could be a guest, she’s got a professional edge to her. She’s also wearing burgundy rimmed eyeglasses. She approaches and smiles at me before her eyes move to Killian’s face.
“Alana, this is Violet. Can you get her seated and have Heidi take care of her?”
“Heidi?” Alana confirms with what looks like alarm.
“Then meet me in the office with the tapes,” he says, as if he didn’t hear her question.
“Got it, boss. Hi Violet. Nice to meet you.”
“Hi,” I say. “You, too.”
“Killian, Amber’s in the office, but she’s been trying to go so I have Tony in there with her. She’s turned on the waterworks.” She rolls her eyes.
“Violet, excuse me; I’ll try not to be too long.” He hands Alana the two bags. “Pop those in the walk-in for me, please. Violet, don’t let me forget those.” He winks at me and then follows the length of the long bar and then disappears into a hallway.
I’m put in a corner, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize this might be the best seat in the house. I can see almost the entire club from this vantage point. I sit at the booth’s c-shaped bench. It’s buttery-soft black leather with a gleaming dark wood table covered in glass. This place is definitely high-end. It’s dimly lit and dripping with sophistication. It seems more like an upscale supper club than a place where you can bet on horses or other sports.
There are televisions on the walls with different events playing. The place is about three-quarters full, but a group of about a dozen forty-something men have just come in, all of them well-dressed, likely coming in from office jobs. They’re seated in a section that’s obviously been reserved for a party.
Alana gestures and another employee approaches.
“Heidi, this is Violet. She’s Killian’s guest. Take extra-good care of her.” Alana smiles at me and then hurries the way Killian went.
The petite red pixie-cut haired server, dressed in a crisp white button-down shirt with a black skirt, burgundy apron, and black heels smiles. “Hi. Oh wow. You’re here with Killian?”
I smile. “Yes.”
“Been here before?”
“No. My first visit,” I reply.
“Been to any of Killian’s clubs?” Heidi asks.
“No,” I say. “This is the first one. It’s … nice.”
“This is a great location,” she agrees, looking around as if taking it in for the first time.
“Beautiful. Totally not what I was expecting. Although, I’m not sure what I did expect.” I shrug and laugh nervously. “I don’t know anything about sports betting or any other kind of betting.”
“Well, I can give you the rundown. This one, Genesis, it’s his first. We have Exodus, too, which is a little more working class, blue collar, also a great spot. Then there’s Law, more like this place and near the airport – attracts lots of traveling business types. I worked there but just transferred here.” She said all that super-fast, takes a big breath, then continues talking rapid-fire. “We’ve got the big opening tomorrow for Numbers, club number four. That’s going to have a bit of a Dave ‘n Busters feel to it. It’s gonna be a fun place. I might even ask if I can switch to work there, I’m not sure. I’m here getting a bit of re-training right now under one of the company’s best. I think it’s kind of like probation, but they didn’t call it that, which is really cool of them. This is a great company to work for. Killian’s also got his online betting site. I’d love to work for that. I’m great with tech, data, the whole nine yards. It’s technically outside the chain, though, catering to a global market – instead of local, and I don’t think he’s hiring for it. You been dating him long?”
I blink. Wow, she talks fast. And says a whole lot.
“Sorry, none of my business,” she continues, “I have a killer crush on him. Well, killer is a bad word. I’m harmless. Not a threat at all. I just tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous. And a little heartbroken.” She laughs. “And you seem so nice. Not even remotely a bitch like I hear he usually dates.”
I’m stunned. Too stunned to even correct her.
“Heidi,” another female server growls as she passes.
“Sorry,” Heidi says to me. “I apologize. I’m gonna get my butt canned if I don’t learn to keep my mouth shut and find a way to implement a filter.” She barks out a laugh.
“It’s okay. I’m not offended. I’m not dating Killian, though. He’s just…” I draw a blank.
She waits.
There’s a never-ending loaded silence before I pretend I didn’t just pause in the middle of an explanation. She leans in as if getting closer to me will make me more comfortable to finish my sentence. Instead I change tack and ask, “Can I have a glass of something sweet? Like… Sangria or…”