I’m not sure of the parameters or why anybody working there would think of it as an advantage, but it certainly isn’t doing his staff retention any harm.
I retreat to the safety of the bar and grab a drink there, the glowering bartender accepting my ID with such reluctance it makes me wonder what tales Patrick has been spreading.
Since it’s an hour until opening, the two dozen circular tables are empty. Even when they’re full of patrons, the real money isn’t made out here or in the booths along the side, though the cash going through the till forms a nice cushion to add a few zeroes to the tally occasionally.
Most of the money is made in the rooms out back. Set aside for private drinking, private gambling, private indulgences of any flavour. They come with a host or hostess or both if that’s preferred.
I loathe being in this place but an unfortunate side effect of belonging to my family is that family is the only avenue I can turn to for help. Everywhere else, I risk my inquiries being used against us.
The idea hadn’t worried me back when I had a choice. Now the decision is made, it’s a constant irritant. Especially because the usual avenue when I need help outside my immediate team is Patrick.
A man who doesn’t like to give away anything without getting more in return.
“Marley about?” I ask him, moving to his office afterthe stacked brunette woman slips out, wiping her thumb over the corner of her mouth as she flashes her headlights. A few weeks ago, I might have been tempted. Now, I barely notice. “I’ve got a job for him.”
“And you’ve already got men at your disposal,” Patrick says, hooking up one eyebrow as he reclines in his chair, putting his feet on the desk. “Why can’t you use them?”
“The only person who fits the bill is already known to the target.”
He keeps staring at me rather than answering until I give an exasperated sigh. “I just want someone to shadow a guy. Make sure if his wallet ever needs topping up, he’s there with the readies.”
“You know how loan sharking works, right? They get so desperate striking out at every other avenue they’d crawl over broken glass to borrow, even at our exorbitant rates.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I get the general idea.”
“Yet you want to waste my men’s time by following around one potential client? What’s the expected loan worth?”
“Since when have you been so chatty?”
Patrick smirks. “The last time I let things slide, someone popped out of the family crest woodwork to take my place.”
“Well, you should’ve looked more competent in the role, then Dad wouldn’t have needed to unleash the replacement.”
I glare but Patrick is completely unfazed, giving a lazy shrug. “Marley’s laid up for a few weeks with another assignment. If you’re looking for a collector, try Adnan. He’s trained and ready.”
“He’s fifty kilos soaking wet.”
But Patrick isn’t in the mood for negotiating. “Take him or ask Creighton. I’m not part of your crew.”
“Fine.”
“You want a drink?”
He’s already pulled out a drawer with a decanter and glasses at the ready. From the appearance, it’s a bottle of aged red whiskey from an Otago cellar. Fifty years, minimum.
With reluctance, I shake my head.
“Your little friend’s working next door,” Patrick says, eyes fixing on me like a terminator’s beam. “Would that have anything to do with the exacting requirements for your latest gig?”
I frown, my mind flicking through the dozen different candidates who know both of us. “Henderson?”
He snorts with laughter, shaking his head. “I believe the name she finally landed on is George but perhaps you know her as something else.”
I freeze, staring hard at my cousin as though intense scrutiny would ever make a family member crack. “She works where?”
He nods to the right, and I trace out the businesses around here in my head, landing on a Pacific Fusion restaurant that caused a sensation when it opened, then faded into irrelevance within a matter of weeks. “As a server?”
“You’d have to ask her. She’s hardly likely to blurt state secrets to me.”
