by Kim Falconer
Cate was right. There was definitely something odd about my new boss, Daniel Bane. Mesmerising? I relived the interview, the things I’d said, the questions unasked. I didn’t even bring up the safety regulations on street level. ‘Ava Sykes, I believe you have been wowed.’ That was so not me, but I couldn’t muster the energy to worry about it — also not like me and my analytical, detail loving Virgo mind. Cate wouldn’t steer me wrong, but I would have to watch myself around Daniel Bane. No hanky-panky. He had allure, but I had rules, and I kept them.
I hadn’t seen Cate in over a week, but it had to be her who’d talked me up and pulled strings to land me a personal interview with the owner. It wasn’t like they headhunted bouncers, did they? I squirmed for a moment, thinking about the background check. Obviously, it hadn’t raised suspicions, and why would it? It had been watertight for years. Relax and enjoy the moment, already. Better yet, share the moment. I dug out my phone and dictated a text to Cate, avoiding cars while jaywalking to the bus stop on North Grand. By the time I said, ‘Send,’ the bus was pulling up, on its way to Huntington Park and beyond. I slid into a front seat and set my phone alarm. If I’d learnt anything as a student working nights, it was how to catnap, any time, anywhere. My eyes shut and that was it.
* * *
Dusk was falling twenty-five minutes later, turning one of the few trees on the block to gold. It was a yellow-leafed maple, bang in front of my kitchen window. Handy too. Its leaf colour was the main way to tell the seasons were changing. I trotted up the steps to the apartment building and caught a familiar fragrance. I knew what it meant. Cate at my door. I’d recognise her perfume anywhere. I also picked up the scent of green onions, mushrooms and basil along with a faint paper bag smell. She’d shopped. Damn, I knew I’d forgotten something. My mouth watered as I swiped my card, punched the code and buzzed myself in. Sure enough, standing in the hall was Cate, but her posture told me instantly she wasn’t here to celebrate my new job. Her body language spelled trouble with Joey, the on-again off-again asswipe boyfriend. I did have my psychic moments, but this was purely visual. Her duffle bag and backpack gave it away, along with the tears. I swiped the lock and let us both in.
Cate dropped her duffel bag by the door and turned tear swollen eyes my way. ‘Mrs Beal let me in. She said it wasn’t safe out there.’
‘She’s probably right.’
Cate nodded, trying not to lose it. She was an exotic-looking woman, with high cheekbones, coffee skin, and honey-brown kinky-curly hair. Beautiful, though mascara streaked her cheeks. Her full lips turned down in a quivering frown. I gave her a tissue, and a half hug, patting her back lightly before stepping away. Yeah, we were close friends, but my comfort level with PDAs was not high. Sure, I rolled with guys and gals at the academy, no problem, but if emotions were involved … I guess I had some intimacy issues.
‘You and Joey?’ I asked.
‘We broke up.’
The cheer in my throat stayed down like a well-trained dog. Best news ever, if she really was done with that guy. ‘Need a place to crash?’
She nodded, tightening her grip on the groceries. ‘I’ll cook.’
‘Perfect. I’m starting a new job tonight.’ I tried to keep a straight face.
The sadness lifted from her briefly. ‘Poseidon?’
‘You have something to do with that?’
She shrugged, then gave a bit of a smile.
‘Thanks.’ I play-punched her arm. ‘Lucky’s off the grid for a month. Good timing.’
‘Told ya.’ She waited a moment. ‘And …?’
‘The money is good.’
She nodded. Cate had been raking it in, but they couldn’t pay me enough to do her job — dressing as a siren, waiting on ‘special customers’. I’d be more likely to smack them in the face if they glanced at me sideways. I had a lot of respect for what she did, what she was willing to tolerate to pay for her psych degree. She’d put that on hold though, when Joey re-entered the picture. I’d been meaning to talk to her about that.
‘And?’ she asked after blowing her nose.
I gave in. ‘Yeah, Daniel Bane’s something else, I’ll admit.’ The thought of his number returned. ‘Does he hand out his private line to every employee?’
‘Not all of them.’ She winked. ‘Don’t you just love him?’
Love was way too strong a word for me, but I didn’t pop her bubblegum.
‘Come on, Ava. You haven’t had anyone serious since Tom.’
‘And Bane’s the answer?’
‘You never will if you aren’t open.’
‘It’s a little inappropriate, the private number, call me any time line.’
Cate pulled her electric hair up to the top of her head and trapped it with a fluoro band. ‘A guy’s gotta try.’
I laughed, and she did too. Good medicine. ‘You on tonight? We can go in together.’
The corners of her mouth turned down again. ‘Joey used to drive me.’
‘Lifts are overrated. No bus lane.’ I gave her another hug, not sure what else to say.
Cate made herself busy in the kitchenette, pulling out the frying pan and chopping board. Her brows went up as she pointed to the encrusted oatmeal pot on the stovetop.
‘It’s been a big day.’ I went to scrub it clean, standing shoulder to shoulder with her as she diced and sliced. It was a small kitchen. ‘Tell me what happened.’ This time. The sooner she spilled on the whole relationship-gone-south story, the better.
‘You know he works in advertising, right?’
‘Surrounded by hot supermodels? Yeah, you mentioned.’
‘I guess he couldn’t resist the temptation.’
Asshole.
She launched into her story and in no time was dishing me up dinner. I salted my food, wondering if it would be insensitive to dig straight in. It smelled amazing.
‘Go on. I can tell you’re starving.’
Cate only picked at her serving, but by the time I was working on round two of the best mushroom pesto linguine in the universe, she had purged. She even moved from victim mode to outrage, and that was a step up on the emotional scale, in my book anyway. I took a third serving; with a lifestyle like mine, which included martial arts training on my nights off, I loaded up on carbs whenever I could.
After doing the dishes — Cate wasn’t one to leave a spoon out of place — I had a quick shower, leaving enough hot water for her. While she dressed in her ‘uniform,’ which consisted of very little other than ocean green glitter and coconuts, I opened the gun safe and slipped my Ruger 9 mm into my calf holster and smoothed down my jeans. I was licensed to carry, and I always did at work, more for the trip there and back than anything else. New LA wasn’t really a city of angels, not good ones anyway. Cate threw on a light coat and we headed out of the apartment for the bus. I looked up and down the street, frowning. Something had prickled my skin.
‘Joey won’t come here, if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s scared of you.’
Good. And speaking of scared. ‘Is there news on Daina?’ Daina was our mutual acquaintance, the most recent coed to go missing during a wave of unexplained murders, as described in the press.
Cate sighed. ‘Nothing.’ The bus pulled up as we arrived at the stop. ‘Do you think she’s alive?’
I shrugged. ‘We can hope.’
CHAPTER THREE
Cate and I chatted, mostly about Joey’s failings, until we stepped off the bus at North Grand Avenue. The night buzzed, lights glared and the streets smelled of smog, fast food and the day’s remaining heat. The vibe around the doors into Poseidon had come alive. Night can do that to a place. Billy and a hammer-of-a-guy let us in. I straightened my shoulders, about to ask for Jason, but Cate grabbed my arm and led me to the elevator. ‘This way.’
Great. I hated these things, especially going down. Inside, there was no schmaltzy muzak, at least, just a panel labelled UP, DOWN and VIP. Cate pressed to go down, and the thing rumbled into action, every clink and groa
n of the cables sounding loud and clear. The smells were intense in such a confined space … stale booze, disinfectant, the usual. It was a quick ride. The doors opened to a subterranean corridor on level with the main dance floor. Even though it was early, by nightlife standards, music blared through the wall. The reverberation always rattled me. That’s why I preferred working the entrance, but at this pay rate, I wasn’t going to be picky.
‘You’ll find Jason in there.’ She nodded at a door marked office. ‘I’m not off until three. You?’
‘One, I think. Will you find a lift back to mine?’
‘No problem.’ She smiled half-heartedly.
I pulled a spare card to the apartment out of my pack and handed it over. ‘Building door code is 2419.’
‘Your age and the age you look. Got it.’
I laughed. ‘Call me on your break.’
‘Will do. Don’t let them give you any shit, Ava.’ She shrugged out of her coat and disappeared into a room marked Staff.
I stood in front of the office door and knocked.
‘It’s open.’
I pushed in, mustering bravado. There was always a bit of testing to contend with in a new job, and in my case it usually meant my ass was thrown into tricky situations, like putting me in the middle of punch-ups and gauging how I handled the big-sized clientele. If I showed them my confident but not too arrogant side, maybe we could forgo some of that. ‘I’m Ava Sykes.’
It was a large room, with an office set-up at one end, lockers, crates and storage at the other. Bare light bulbs hung from the ceiling, like they hadn’t quite finished the construction here. Around the desk were three hefty guys. ‘Mr Bane told me you were on.’ The man in the middle of the powwow stood up and extended his hand. ‘Jason, head of security. This is Raphael, and Jones.’ He pointed to the dudes, left and right.
I reached for Jason’s hand. It was a quick, hard shake.
‘Glad to have you,’ he said.
It was a weird thing to say, because most guys weren’t glad until I proved myself. It was impossible to tell Jason’s eye colour, or sincerity, though. He wore shades; they all did. I blinked. It wasn’t that bright in here. Please don’t be a bunch of crackheads. I wanted the job to last, at least for the month, and I knew I wouldn’t stay if the staff were that bent.
‘Find a shirt that fits.’ He pointed toward the lockers behind me. ‘The rest of your gear will do.’ I’d worn black jeans and my steel-toed Tims. Jason opened a drawer and pulled out a headset, checking the battery. ‘Keep valuables in the lockers, if you have to. Best not to bring them.’ He handed me the headset. ‘Do you carry?’
I nodded and turned my ankle to show him the Ruger.
‘Good.’
That was it? ‘Aren’t there forms to fill out?’
Jason shook his head. The three went back to work, which consisted of piling large stacks of money on the table and tapping calculators.
Apparently, the Federal Tax Department wasn’t an issue. I went through the shirts and found a men’s XS tee, black with a little white trident logo on the pocket, just like the symbol over the doors. I pulled off my tank top, revealing a well-worn sports bra underneath. Jason didn’t look up. The other two did. I slipped on my Poseidon shirt fast, secured my earphone and hung my top on a hook. Jason rose from the table and led me out the door. He wasn’t big on conversation, but he did point out the staff lounge down the hall, the doors to the main floor, and the staff restrooms.
Back in the elevator, the proximity to the man distracted me. In the confined space, his scent was industrial strength. It wasn’t foul, as in bad hygiene, but it had a repulsive musky undertone. Most people would probably never notice, or might even consider it sexy. To me, it was nauseating. I felt pure relief when the elevator dinged and opened up on street level. We went straight out the door, the line now past the cinema. The scent of musk vanished from my nose, overtaken by exhaust fumes and the warm LA night. Who would have thought that would be an improvement?
‘Billy,’ Jason called him over. ‘Ava’s with you tonight.’
Billy clicked his tongue. ‘That’s good news.’
I’d straighten out any misconceptions he might have about the word ‘with,’ but it wasn’t really a problem. I had that one down pat. It was a relief he seemed to accept me straight up. In my three years at this job, I’d never heard of another woman in the business. This was a male dominated gig, for the obvious reasons.
‘Fill her in.’ Jason ran his eyes over the crowd then went back without saying more.
‘So …’ Billy drew out the sound. ‘What’s a girl like you doing in a job like this?’
I gave him my ‘strictly professional’ face and waited for him to try again. My first rule, no banter, flirting or fraternising on the job.
‘Fine. I can play straight.’ He tilted his head, short sandy hair brushing the top of his shades. ‘We’re relieved twice a night for twenty minutes. Staff room is opposite the office, next to the elevator.’
I nodded. ‘Saw it.’
‘The vending machine’s okay, or you can order ahead from the kitchens, ten percent off.’ He laughed. ‘Most bring their own, but no drinking on duty.’
‘Of course.’ As far as food went, this was the kind of place that sold a bowl of fries and ketchup for forty-five bucks a pop. I’d be packing my own chow from now on.
‘If the line goes past the cinema, we call for backup, but you’ll be on with me all night, till you get the hang of it. We have regulars that are let through, no waiting … you’ll need to remember names and faces fast. They don’t like it if you don’t.’ He handed me the door list.
There were only fifteen names. I glanced at them briefly and nodded.
Billy looked at me for a moment and then said, ‘Really?’
I repeated the names back to him, in alphabetical order.
‘Wow. Good trick.’ He smiled.
It made him look pretty cute. As I thought it, he smiled brighter, which was weird.
‘Questions?’
‘One. What’s with the shades? Part of our dress code?’
‘You’re kidding, right?’ He tilted his head toward a carload of intoxicated girls spilling onto the sidewalk. ‘I’ll handle them. You stay on the door. Don’t screw up.’
I crossed my arms. ‘Not planning on it.’
* * *
By midnight, I was on my second break, eating a pack of non-GMO trail mix and gulping ‘pure’ water. Not a bad night, all things considered. The upstairs crowd wasn’t too much trouble, the night air warm and dry, and the movie theatre spillover not as bad as I thought it would be, even with a blockbuster playing. Only one belligerent drunk threatened to sue me after I used a double-leg takedown on him. One more hour of this and my head would hit the pillow. I wondered how Cate was doing. I hadn’t seen her since we bussed in together.
As I crunched on my snack, giving myself a ‘nearly there’ pep talk, three women dressed a lot like Cate, sea-green G-strings and tiny scallop shells over each nipple, came in. They were in their early twenties, medium height, bleached-blonde hair extensions down to their glittered-up belly buttons, and built like Barbie dolls. If I wanted their job, no way would I land it; too lithe, too brunette, too average-sized boobs. I gave them a half smile and waved. ‘How’s work going tonight?’
It was like I’d opened Pandora’s box. There was this man and that chat, and a bit of a hook-up here and a huge tip there. Something about getting in downstairs where they could really make the cash. ‘It was so amazing. You know what I mean? He told me I had a chance,’ the woman closest to me said.
‘Great.’ Pretty sure she was talking about a promotion.
‘Ava. Do a sweep of the restrooms on your way up.’ Billy’s voice sounded in my earphone.
I trashed my wrapper and waved goodbye to the blondes. ‘What am I looking for?’
‘Young punk in a blue silk shirt. If you find him, bring him to me.’
‘On it.’ The wal
l clock told me I still had five minutes, but I was happy to run a check of the floor before going up, like I used to do at Lucky’s. That had me thinking of my co-worker Jeff. Maybe I could put in a word. I would hate it if he was out of a job, especially while I was making this kind of dough.
The hall was empty, so I headed to the ladies room first. It was a large, black and white tiled, twelve-stalled room with huge, gold-veined mirrors, full of scents — mostly cleaning products and perfume, some drugs. Interesting, as these were for staff only. I checked every stall, used the closest one, washed my hands and moved on. The men’s had a few guys at the urinal, no blue silk shirts. The hallway was still empty, so I went past the elevator. Jason’s office had the usual money counters at work, that was it. I nodded to him and kept going. At the end of the hall, I pushed through the double doors and walked the short distance to the next set marked as a staff entrance.
I cracked the door to have a peek, but the music knocked me back. Lights flashed as if filtered through an eggbeater on high speed. A sea of people undulated on the dance floor to techno-house beats. The balcony tables were full, and as my eye scanned upward I caught the slave cages, rocked by near naked dancers in chains. I locked onto the closest one, my mouth falling open. Cate? I knew she had moves, but … the security guards either side of the door turned to me, expressionless. I backed out, letting go of the door. It closed like an exhale, leaving me alone in the relatively silent hall. ‘He’s not down here, Billy.’ I spoke into my headset on the way to the elevator.
‘Right. Come on up.’
In the elevator, my fingers hovered over the console. There was a dark smudge on the button below UP that hadn’t been there before. Without thinking, I swiped it, bringing my finger to my nose. Blood? As I did, the elevator kicked in. It took me a second to realise it was heading down. What the hell? I hadn’t even pressed the damn thing. I hit the UP button several times, but nothing happened. I was definitely going down.
