“You lost, sweetheart?” one man asks as he eyes me up and down.
“No.” I offer him a quick curtsy. “I’m looking for someone, can you help me?”
The second man turns entirely toward me, a huge grin covering his face. “I’d be happy to help you, honey. Shall we get out of here?”
“You—” I cock my head to the side, unsure what he means. “Pardon me?”
His friend barks out a laugh, making me jump a little from the sudden noise.
“Hey, doll, who are you looking for?” This question comes from the bartender as he leans on the bar, waiting for my answer.
“Tony.”
“Oh shit,” the first guy murmurs, looking alarmed, before turning back to face the bar.
“He’s over there,” the bartender says, his eyebrows pinching together as he points to the far corner. “Sitting in that corner booth. The one with blond hair tied back.”
“Thank you,” I say, offering him a small curtsy.
As I head through the crowded bar, people start to notice me. Not only that, but the noise begins to die down as people seem to stop mid-conversation to watch me walk through the crowd.
Remembering my upbringing, I keep my chin up and pretend I belong here, even though I’m clearly a fish out of water.
When I get to the corner, there’s a large group of men hanging around, and a few are standing and blocking my view of the booth.
There isn’t much noise in the bar now, except what’s coming from this group, and as if they suddenly sense the quiet around them, the two in front of me turn, their eyes dropping to me standing behind them.
“Excuse me,” I say, pointing between them. “I need to get through.”
One man looks at me like I’m crazy, and the other man’s eyebrows raise so high they get lost under his bandana. In unison, they step apart, and I try to slip between their bodies without touching them, but the space is tight and I feel my arms brush against them.
I swallow down my nerves as I press forward until I’mstanding in front of the table. The conversation there dies instantly as they all stare at me with a mix of confusion and amusement.
I scan the faces and find Tony’s blond ponytail. He’s sitting in the back of the booth, surrounded by two men on either side.
He raises an eyebrow in question when he sees me. “You must be Tony,” I say, maintaining eye contact for a moment before I drop my eyes and give him a small curtsy of respect.
“What the fuck is this?” someone whispers from my side, but I ignore them.
“Move.” Tony waves a hand at the men sitting beside him, and they quickly slide out of the booth, allowing him to move around to the edge.
He stays seated and crooks a finger at me to come closer. I move to stand in front of him, and a slow smile covers his face.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. My name is… ah… well, please forgive my informality, but I was told you could help me get a fake ID. I don’t want to use my real name anymore.”
“Fucking shit,” someone whispers behind me.
“Well, aren’t you precious?” Tony asks, looking me up and down.
I’m not exactly sure I’m supposed to answer, but when he doesn’t say anything else, I answer, “Yes?” It comes out as a question, but laughter booms out around me, and I try not to cringe, but Tony notices.
“Quieten down, boys. Let’s show our little guest some respect, hmm?” He doesn’t look angry as he glances around; he seems amused.
When he glances back at me, he pushes to his feet andholds out his hand toward me. “Come on, tiny, I can get you that ID. Let’s head to my office.”
Does he have an office here? That’s handy! I place my hand in his, despite my internal warnings not to touch him, and he gently leads me to a hallway past the bar.
Instead of turning into any of the rooms we pass, he leads us out the side door and into a parking lot filled with bikes.
