The club they had arrived at didn’t appear to have any outside markings, and it was a rather modest four-story building that may have been a hotel in its earlier days. The only indication it was open was the pair of large bouncers standing guard at the door and the faint thump of bass permeating out onto the sidewalk.
The taller of the two bouncers came over at once to open the car door, bowing low as he said, “Good evening, Mr. Star.”
“Good evening.” Alistair stepped out, turning to take Noah’s hand and help him out. “This is Noah Allan. He is my guest tonight. Do you understand, Harrison?”
“Absolutely, sir.” Harrison bowed his head. “We’ll take good care of you, Mr. Allan.”
“Thanks.” Noah watched as the other bouncer opened the front door for them, the bass coming through louder now. He took a deep breath. “Here we go, huh?”
“Indeed.” Alistair took Noah’s arm and led him into the lobby.
It was dark except for a small lamp at the counter and red neons that ran along the ceiling spelling out ‘Kiss’ in scrolling cursive. The man at the counter also greeted Alistair by name, and word must have traveled quickly because he also addressed Noah the same way. Harrison, the first bouncer, had come inside behind them and opened the next set of doors to allow them through.
A short hallway brought them to another doorway, and this one was opened on the other side by a man holding a glass of red wine.
“Good evening, Mr. Star,” the man shouted over the music. “What will your guest be drinking?”
“The same, thank you,” Alistair called back. “We’ll be going to my lounge. Please let Odie know that I need to speak with him as soon as possible.”
“Of course, Mr. Star.”
Noah barely heard them, but not just because of the music. He was too busy staring at the club.
The ceiling was vaulted, punctuated by glittering chandeliers with red neons snaking along the crown molding. The walls were draped in dark fabric, and the fancy furniture was all made from mahogany and tufted velvet. The bar was a massive thing with large mirrors hanging all around it and another splash of red neon lights illuminating the shelves to highlight the many wares. Fresh white flowers were on every table and at the bar, some sort of lily, but Noah didn’t know what they were called.
There was a DJ booth tucked away behind black folding screens, and a modest stage with thick curtains across from the bar. There was no one performing at the moment, but judging by the people crowding around it, a show was probably going to start soon.
Noah had been in a lot of clubs—like, alot—but this was the fanciest place he’d ever seen.
Everyone was dressed up like they were going to dinner, all heels and suits, and Noah was really glad Alistair had chosen his clothes tonight. Something told him that his usual go-to ensemble of crop tops and jeans wouldn’t have gotten him through the lobby.
Alistair tugged Noah’s arm gently, leading him to a door beside the bar flanked by more beefy bouncers. They wordlessly opened the door for Alistair and Noah to a narrow hallway that brought them to a luxurious lounge room with big windows.
The appointments here were as fancy as the rest of the club. It had its own little bar, though unattended currently, and there was an overstuffed sectional couch set up in front of the windows. It was then Noah realized the windows were the other side of the mirrors at the bar. From here, they could see behind the bar and had a decent view of the stage. The room was also soundproofed because the music was reduced to a dull hum the moment the door shut behind them.
“Wow.” Noah eagerly sat down in the middle of the couch and leaned back. “This place is, yeah, amazing.”
“Thank you.” Alistair sat beside him, sipping his wine leisurely.
“Where’s everybody else?”
“I imagine Crybaby took Scout home to get changed into something more appropriate. Mickey and Roger… it’s hard to say.”
“Are they hate-banging again already?”
“It’s not out of the realm of possibility.” Alistair chuckled. “I think you’ll find that—”
There was a beep.
Noah looked all around until he saw the source was an intercom built into the coffee table in front of them.
Alistair pushed a small button. “Yes?”
“Odie’s here, sir,” a woman’s voice said through the speaker. “Would you like to see him now?”
“Yes, please.”
“Damn, that was quick,” Noah muttered.
