“Yes, actually. I’m headed to a funeral. Thanks for your condolences,” she answers.
“Damn,” he says flatly. “Well, someone has to do it.”
His eyes ping-pong between Lainey and me. As much as I love her, this is one match of eenie meenie miny moe I’d rather not win.
Don’t pick me, don’t pick me, don’t pick me. I say to myself.
“Mila.”
Fuck.
“You’ll do. Come with me.”
“Niko,” I argue. “I have a day job. I have to be there in seven hours.”
“And I have a business to run that requires inventory. Unless you don’t need money.”
He’s got me there. Even if my take away tonight is good, rent is due soon, and I also need to get my registration on my car renewed. Damn.
“Alright,” I agree, and Lainey gives me an apologetic look before making her way out.
“Follow me. Hurry up,” Niko says, making his way to the back of the bar. “Oh, and put your wig back on.”
I shuffle to keep up with him as we go into the men’s locker room. I don’t know why I am surprised that there is a men’s locker room.
There’s one for the girls, but that’s because we have to change into our uniforms. Other than the cooks and the dishwashers, Niko is the only man who works here.
“I should probably warn you, I’ve never done inventory before…at any of my jobs,” I tell him.
It’s a lie. But it’s past midnight and I’m a little on edge.
Niko is a small man, possibly gay, but I have never been uncomfortable around him.
But this whole thing has red flags mounted on every corner.
“That’s fine,” he says as we head down a hallway I literally didn’t know existed. The Cockpit is a bar in a brick warehouse building, but for some reason I never questioned what was in the rest of the building.
From the looks of it, I’m about to find out.
We come to a door with two men standing in front of it like guards, and I stop abruptly. “Niko, what is this?” I demand. I’m literally holding my car keys between my fingers at this point.
Niko turns to me. “You really do live under a rock,” he says. “Brynn told me you were a bit dense.”
“What?” I ask.
“This is the Ring Room,” he tells me, and my eyes narrow in confusion.
“The what?”
Niko’s eyes roll impatiently. “Just come with me,” he says, and one of the massive Men In Black looking guys opens the door for us.
I step inside and the room opens up before me.
I feel like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, seeing color for the first time.
But instead of a bright, picturesque land, it’s an elite club.
There is a long bar busy with people and high-top tables tiered in a circle surrounding a boxing ring.
