“I’ll have you know that I’m only exaggerating a tiny bit.” Clarissa released Everett’s father and stepped back. She stuck out her tongue at Everett. “Mostly, I was exaggerating about not being suspicious.”
“Of course you were.” Everett sighed.
“Can you blame me? You fall for it every time.”
The conversation was broken up by Caleb’s father, who gestured at the club. “Are you two finished? I couldn’t help but notice that there’s a rapidly cooling pizza-shaped pizza in the box Clarissa’s holding. It’s probably in our best interest to head inside and eat it before it reaches room temperature.”
“Oh, heck yeah!” Clarissa made her way around the Volvo and across the small parking lot, headed to the alley connecting the back lot to the street. “It’s been great having this conversation, but I’m sorry—neither of you beat pizza.”
“As well we shouldn’t.” Everett’s father smiled, but there was a solemn, almost tired look in his eyes that turned the expression wistful. “Let’s go.”
For a while they walked in silence, but as Clarissa reached the sidewalk and turned, making her way toward the front door, Everett slipped his hands into his back pockets and slowed. “Hey, Dad?”
“Yes?” His father slowed, too, falling into place beside him.
Everett found himself suddenly nervous, and he kept his eyes on the road ahead. Traffic passed, each flash of the headlights an affront against the night. “Maybe it’s just Clarissa messing with my head, but… is everything okay?”
“Of course it is.”
The answer lacked conviction. Everett glanced in his father’s direction, then shook his head and held back an uncomfortable sigh. “So there’s nothing going on? We’re going to walk in there and everything’s going to be normal?”
Silence.
The sigh Everett had been withholding stuck in his lungs and grew heavy. Somethingwasgoing on.
“Why don’t we talk inside?” Everett’s father suggested. “We’re almost there, anyway. Some conversations are better had behind closed doors.”
50
Everett
From the outside, The Shepherd was unassuming. Several years back, its neon sign had been replaced by stately back-lit channel letters, and its facade had undergone city-sanctioned renovations that had put it a notch above the surrounding businesses without making it look out of place. Sleek black walls, polished to a shine, rose three stories high, interrupted only by the full-sized windows on the uppermost floor. The entrance was recessed from the sidewalk and was lit up at night by rows of upward-facing blue LEDs, creating a visual division between the sidewalk and the club. Everett was old enough to remember both of its incarnations, and while he’d always think fondly of how The Shepherd had been, he was proud of the establishment it had become. It bore the earmarks of a professional, respectable business. But tonight, as his father unlocked the double doors leading into the small foyer that acted as the final buffer between the club and the general public, it felt more like a home than his place of employment. Rather than the dinner table, his father would sit him down at the bar, and they’d talk about whatever it was that was on his mind.
Everett already had a good idea of what to expect, but why his father had chosen tonight to talk remained a mystery.
An alarm went off when they stepped into the foyer. Everett paid it no heed, heading for the counter near the heavy door that separated the dance floor from the street. Clarissa followed him and set the pizza down, wrinkled her nose, then ducked behind the counter and returned with a roll of paper towels. “My hands are all greasy now.”
“You said you wanted cheese,” Everett retorted, an eyebrow raised.
“Right.” Clarissa tore a sheet from the roll. “Cheese.I’m pretty sure if you look up cheese in the dictionary, it won’t list ‘grease’ as a synonym. Especially super-hot, burn-your-hands-off grease. On the bright side, I think all my fingerprints have melted off, so if you’ve been planning a secret bank heist, I’m in.”
Everett snorted. He elbowed Clarissa, who promptly elbowed him back. “There’s no way it’s still that hot. I’m calling your bluff. Plus, you didn’t have to carry it. That’s all on you.”
The alarm shut off. Everett’s father moved from the alarm panel on the wall to the door by the counter and fitted a thick key into the lock. After a small amount of struggle, it gave, and the door unlocked.
“Grease or not, it’s worth it.” Clarissa unraveled several more sheets from the roll of paper towels. “Are you boys going to need paper towels with your meal? I’ll snag them from here if you do. I willfightwhoever tries to take the paper towels from the bar, so if you think you’ll need one, say something now, or face the wrath of my fists.”
“Go ahead and grab some extras just in case,” Everett’s father said.
“You got it, boss.” Clarissa tore off several paper towels and folded them until they fit in her pocket, then tore off two more handfuls and wadded them. With the paper padding her palms, she picked up the pizza box and came to stand in front of the door. Everett stepped forward and opened it for her, but didn’t follow her through. He thought it wiser to wait for his father, who seemed in no particular hurry to leave the foyer.
“Are you guys going to come upstairs, or what?” Clarissa asked. She peered at them through the door, the dim emergency lights shining down on her from above. “I’m going to be on my feet all night, so I’m not overly interested in standing around to eat. I figure we can sit at our regular booth and have a family-style meal before the worst of the shit hits the fan.”
“We’ll be up in a second,” Everett’s father replied. “Get us set up, okay? Pour us some drinks. We won’t be long.”
Clarissa tutted. “I’m going to hold you to that, you know. Every additional five minutes you keep me waiting, I’m going to pour you an extra shot. If you want to make it through the night without falling over, you won’t keep me away from my pizza feast for long.”
She stuck out her tongue and took off for the stairs, leaving them to their business. Everett let go of the door. Once it was shut, his father sighed and leaned against the counter.
