“You don’t know the half of it.” I twist the doorknob and open it. The rosy light of the ladies’ restroom floods the space.
Harrison squints. “Lot of pink in here.”
I smirk. “Subtlety isn’t really my sister’s forte. But come on, we need to get you situated. There’s a quiet corner in Clubs behind the hookah pipes where you should be able to hang until opening time, and then once the place is filled, you can slip in discreetly. Just keep your head down and avoid Rouge like the plague. The men don’t get nearly as much attention as the women, anyway.” I check my watch. “The rest of the band should be arriving soon. I have to prepare for my set.”
“Okay, babe. Be safe.” He reels me in for a quick kiss.
“Same goes to you. If anything goes wrong, just get out as quickly as possible.” I depress the club-shaped button on the wall and the bathroom walls slide in to obscure the door. “You see how this club juts out from the wall slightly? Press it like an elevator button and you’ll be able to access the Red Door. It’s typically open during working hours in case a server has to leave because they get sick or something. You should be able to escape through here if necessary.”
He grabs my hands. “But what about you?”
I swallow. “I can deal with my sister if I need to.”
I’m not sure how true those words are, but they seem to pacify Harrison. “All right,” he says. “But if it appears that you’re in any danger, I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’d try to convince you to do otherwise, but I know I’d be unsuccessful.” I give Harrison one last peck on the lips. “I’ll see you on the Aces floor.”
With one last plea to the heavens to protect the both of us, I leave the bathroom and head to my dressing room.
37
HARRISON
I’m tucked away behind the table where the bright-green hookahs are laid. It’s been about a half hour since I moved here, and the other Aces staff are beginning to arrive.
Pretty soon I’ll be able to come out and blend in, but Bianca’s instructions were clear. Wait until the club is full. It’s a holiday, so it’ll be busy.
The Clubs section is always illuminated in green, but tonight the lights of the Spades, Diamonds, and Hearts sections match. Just like the damned Chicago River. Everything is green for St. Patrick’s Day.
And my birthday.
Just like Ray Sinclair’s fucking highlights.
What a way to ring in thirty-six.
I just hope I make it to thirty-seven.
“Dr. O’Rourke?”
Fuck. Guess I’m not.
Mr. Night stands in front of me, his eyes wide. “You are certainly dressed a little differently tonight, Doctor.”
“Mr. Night, I?—”
He presses a finger to my lips. “You’re not supposed to talk, Doctor. Or should I say”—he eyes my right shoulder—“Ace.”
Mr. Night used to work at the Noir Parlor and didn’t disappear. Which means he must be at least partially aware of what Rouge is up to.
He might be fully aware and just doesn’t give a shit.
He could be on her side.
Alissa told us not to trust Chet. She didn’t say anything about Mr. Night.
I don’t even know if she knows him. As far as I understand, she spent most of her time at Spades and Diamonds.
“If you get a moment later this evening, I’d love to have a word,” Mr. Night says.
