Thomas had opted for a moss-green shirt with a snake-skin-patterned waistcoat and a pair of matching trousers. He’d glared when Scott had told him eyeliner would enhance his snake eyes.
One glance at his nails, and Thomas slumped in defeat, letting Scott pencil black on his lower eyelids from one corner to the other.
Thomas’s smile when he saw the result had been everything to Scott, who still felt giddy hours later.
The Frog & Toad was a labyrinth of rooms with heavy doors, winding corridors and rickety staircases. Dully lit, with the scent of cigarettes still clinging onto the upholstered furniture, an angry owner who looked as if he could spit bullets, and his wife, whose wardrobe had come from the Victorian era with a Gothic twist, hovering close by for photo opportunities. Her huge black dress blocked whatever corridor she happened to find herself in, and the low-cut bodice drew the eye like a magnet to her huge breasts. Her red hair was up in an eccentric do, she had a drawn beauty spot by her mouth, and she flapped a lace fan at her face, pouting as people squeezed past her.
“Thomas,” she exclaimed before air-kissing nowhere near his face. “I haven’t seen you in years.”
Thomas’s replying smile was tight. “You’re looking well, Lisa.”
Scott didn’t know how he could tell with her hidden beneath miles of fabric and a thick face of makeup, but her chest looked bountiful, and Scott could see a few notes shoved down her bodice.
“Russell’s here…” She winked, knocking her elbow into Thomas’s side. “And he’s single again.”
That turn of events had been predictable to Scott, but from Thomas’s open mouth it came as a shock to him.
Scott shifted, and Lisa’s focus fell onto him. “Which room is Russell in?” he asked.
Lisa peered into Scott’s face, then flicked her eyes towards Thomas.
“This is Scott,” Thomas said. “A friend.”
Scott inwardly preened at being announced as such a thing.
“Russell is through there,” Lisa murmured, tipping her head in the direction of one of the doors. She stepped aside and let them pass.
“Remember what I said,” Scott murmured by Thomas’s ear. “You go in, make eye contact with him, and I follow in ten seconds later.”
Thomas sighed, shaking his head.
“Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
He gave an encouraging shove to Thomas, who glared down at him before pushing into the room, unleashing a burst of chatter from the other side. The door closed, and Scott counted to ten all while Lisa stared at him.
“Showtime,” Scott whispered before pushing open the door.
Thomas hadn’t ventured far into the room, but he was looking at Russell, propped up against the bar, and Russell waslooking back with a confident smirk until he noticed Scott. His confidence faltered, then turned to anger when Scott joined Thomas’s side, pulling at his elbow until Thomas turned to him.
“Perfect,” Scott purred. “He hates my guts. Now let’s get a drink.”
Thomas took a step in Russell’s direction.
“At the other end of the bar,” Scott instructed, leading the way.
Russell tracked their every move. He wasn’t the only one staring at them. Scott took it in his stride, but Thomas’s jaw ticked with tension.
“Relax,” Scott told him after ordering their beers.
He directed Thomas to stand on his right so his back would be to Russell, who bashed his fist down on the bar.
“Perfect…”
“What?” Thomas asked.
“He’s looking pissed off.”
Scott recognised the men with him. The guy with the red mohawk, who had his ear wrapped up in a bandage, and Russell’s shorter friend with the piercings all down his nose.
