Page 21 of Rafe

The second she walked into the dark foyer, she questioned her choice to leave her comfy bed. Far from the lively piano bar she’d been promised, its dark somber vibe immediately prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. Where is everyone? She swiped her finger over her cell, searching for the email invitation.

“Name?”

Skylar’s head snapped up, startled by the sound of the low male voice. A tall wiry man dressed in an old tuxedo with deep creases in his forehead and thick black glasses, stood silent, waiting on her to answer.

“Um, sorry. I didn’t see you.” The older gentleman tapped at his tablet screen and glanced up at her. “My name is Skylar. I was invited by Scott Ryder. He’s the producer of Milton Diner.”

As she scanned the room, a couple in the corner appeared engrossed in conversation. The rest of the bar appeared empty of patrons.

“This is a private party. Please. This way.” The unusual man ushered her toward the bar.

“Oh, okay.” Confused, Skylar took a deep breath and followed him, noticing the sparse crowd. “Um. Is the restaurant closed?”

“This way, please,” he repeated, ignoring her question.

Her pulse raced as he retrieved a set of keys from his pocket. Silence filled the bar save the jingling metal.

Skylar looked over her shoulder as they exited the empty bar. Where are all the people? The sound of a lock clicking open drew her attention followed by the humming of a pocket door that disappeared into the wall.

“Hey, I think that—” A pounding beat filtered through the doorway, the echo of laughter in the distance.

“Follow the lights. They’re waiting for you.” The host stood aside, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Do you know if Scott is here?” Skylar could have sworn the invite had specifically said piano bar but there was no mistaking the speakeasy pop-up vibe.

“Yes, yes. Your party awaits.” He fiddled with a pen and pointed to an exit.

Skylar’s instincts warned her something was off. “But I thought the party was in a piano bar. Scott said that I was supposed to meet him here.”

“Private party,” he repeated as if in a trance. “Follow the lights. They’re waiting.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” She nodded with a tight smile, concern curling in her stomach as she stepped through another doorway into a short hallway. Strips of neon lights lined the floor, shining up onto the mirrored walls and ceiling.

She pressed through purple beaded fringe, relieved as she caught sight of several crew members engaged in conversations. As she glanced upward, she caught sight of an unusual amethyst crystal chandelier which appeared to pulse to the sound of the music.

Skylar inwardly laughed at the Vegas styled vampire-themed décor. Though stories of vampires, witches and wolves were part and parcel of living in New Orleans, she’d kept her distance from the dark seedy blood bars that cultivated within the city’s underbelly. It was rumored the wolves ran in the bayou and could tear you apart if they found you on their land. The vampires, though, were far more cunning, concealing their true lethal nature…until dinnertime.

Skylar approached the partygoers with caution, observing their every move. She glanced at the crucifix above the bar and wondered if they’d been taken from the set of a horror movie. The other alternative was far more sinister. Though Vegas wasn’t known for vampires, she’d known they had blood clubs in every town.

Relief flooded through her as Scott appeared at the bar. A pretty, tall, blonde woman laughed at his joke and reached for a vape on the bar.

Scott Ryder. Indie producer extraordinaire. He specialized in made-for-streaming reality shows but had recently switched it up, creating compelling miniseries dramas. With coiffed black hair, the stylish insider worked the room in a bright crimson suit.

Skylar recognized the actress who played a fellow waitress. Tina, a bubbly, voluptuous redhead, had been incredibly kind to her on set. Excited to see her, Skylar waved and slid into an empty seat beside her at the bar.

“Hey girl. Glad you made it,” she said as she shoved a twenty towards the bartender. “You look hot.”

“Thank you. You look amazing. Love your dress.” Distracted by the sound of fingers tapping on the bar, Skylar glanced up to the impatient barkeep.

“What can I get you lovely ladies?” With slicked-back hair, the man wore a well-worn black tuxedo. The deep creases in his face told her he’d lived a long life.

“Chardonnay. Anything white would be great.”

“White sounds good to me too.” Tina spun her stool to face Skylar. “I’m so excited we’re working this project together. I’m loving it.” She accepted her glass from the bartender. “I feel like I’m finally getting a lucky break.”

“Yeah, same. I was working on this thing in L.A. and I was shot. I left in a coma.” Skylar leaned her head to the side and stuck out her tongue.

“Police drama? It’s always a tough gig. One minute you have a line and the next you’re the corpse.” She laughed.