“If I’m lucky, you’ll see more of her around,” I say, meaning it.My gaze stays on Eddie’s reaction.
“Didn’t think I’d see the day,” Eddie says with an affable grin.“You must be something special.He doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.”
Candlelight gilds her skin, her smile small but real.
“Thank you…I think.”Her eyes meet mine, blue and briefly unguarded.The room dissolves into chiaroscuro.
“I’ll leave you two to it.”Eddie pivots after one step, “Will you dine here or would you like your table in the restaurant?”
“Here’s fine,” I say.“Thanks, Eddie.”
“Friendly,” Brie observes, the word edged with irony.
“Good at his job,” I say.What neither of us adds: he can’t be trusted.
“Should we go to the restaurant?What do you normally do when you bring your dates here?”
I don’t bring dates here, if anything I meet dates here, much like Tommy just met his dates.
Across the bar, Tommy lifts his chin in greeting.One small shake of my head and he understands—don’t bring them over.He toasts me anyway, and I turn back to Brie.
“We can order from any menu here,” I offer.“Unless you’d prefer a change of scenery.”
“What about the rooms upstairs?”
I hesitate.I’d rather be anywhere private with her—but not here.“They’re available.”
“No event tonight?”
“No.The events are planned in advance.”
She looks, for a breath, disappointed, then relaxes into the booth.Golden light pools along her collarbone; her thigh brushes mine—an accidental confession.Her fingers trace lazy spirals on the table, each one a distraction I feel everywhere.
“Are you comfortable here?”
“It’s dark,” she murmurs, leaning in.Her fingertip grazes the corner of my mouth; I catch it between my teeth, slow enough to taste her restraint.“That’s what he gets paid for?”she asks, glancing toward Eddie.“Greeting everyone?”
His job is actually much bigger than a professional greeter, but I tell her, “That’s the part of the job he loves.”
“Hmm.”
I’m not sure what she hoped to see.The Sanctuary is built for discretion; no one overhears by accident.If Eddie’s listening, he’s planted the means to do it.The booths in the restaurant are designed to allow private discussions, business or otherwise, to go unheard.
“Instead of upstairs,” I say, voice lower now, “I’d rather bring you home—or see where you live.”
Should I care more about Eddie and what he’s doing?Absolutely.And I do.But some battles wait.Tonight, I want something simpler—privacy, not performance.Time with her, real and unscripted.
“Tell me about the people here,” she says, voice soft, gaze traveling the room.“Those guys.Barely legal.Are they models?”
I look to the booth she’s spotted.Three Asian men—I don’t recognize two of them, but based on the one I know, I can speculate.“The guy in the center?Founder of a meme coin creation company.He’s only twenty-two, but he’s been at it for five or six years.Possibly one of the wealthier individuals in this room.”
“And he’s a member?”
“Joined this year—after a member invited him as a guest.He won’t stay long.If I were to guess, he’s here to meet someone interested in launching their own meme token.This is an ideal spot for a speculative discussion—a year from now, there won’t be any photographs to document the meeting.”
“Why does that matter?”
“It doesn’t always but at its essence, it’s a pump and dump scheme.The name of the game is to keep it quiet until the announcement, so the price shoots up in the euphoria.”
