Page 30 of Trigger Happy Ending

I drag my eyes away from the stage and take in the huge size of the place. Plush, red leather booths wrap around the floor. Every booth is full, and the men lounging in them all have their eyes fixated on the women paid to entertain them. Some are rambunctious, while others appear in a total state of bliss. And every man in this place? All members. That’s a fuck load of cash Carson must make from memberships alone.

I don’t spot anything out of place. Or anyone of power. Yet.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Big Red glancing at me while she wipes the bar down with a cloth.

“So, Angel is it?” she asks in her deep Southern accent. She’s far from home, being all the way up here in New York City. I wonder what her story is.

“Yeah.”

“I’m Cherry,” she states, extending her hand which I shake. “Sorry, I haven’t had a chance to show y’all ’round yet.”

“Totally fine.” I give her a stiff smile. “Is it always this busy?”

“Yes and no. Depends on who’s in town or if there’s a major event on. Tonight, I guess the leeches on Wall Street all felt like letting their hair down and flashing their Amexes. Which is totally fine by me.” Cherry smiles, pulling a wad of cash from her cleavage.

“Nice.”

“You’ll get there … Once you figure out your scotches from bourbons.” Cherry giggles which makes me smile. She’s right; I fucked up many drinks tonight.

“You should ask to be rostered in VIP until you get the hang of it. It’s a bit quieter there. Besides, you’re a bombshell. Once Carson lays eyes on you, I’m sure he’ll demand you’re in VIP all the time anyway.”

“Where’s VIP?” I ask casually. The more I can learn from Cherry, the better. I’ve already profiled her as an oversharer, which I’ll use to my advantage wherever I can.

She points a red fingernail upwards. “Up there.” She indicates to the mezzanine. “The second level is all VIP.”

That’s where I need to be, there’s no way Carson is slumming it with the everyman down here. And even if he does for appearances, there’s no way he is holding any sort of private meetings on the general floor.

“There’s a few private rooms up there, too, along with the Ultra VIP room.”

“What’s that?”

“At the back of VIP is another room hidden behind a mirrored door. That’s the Ultra VIP room. Carson, the owner, that’s his own private room essentially. He handpicks his bartenders and entertainers when he is here. Regular clients don’t even know that the UVIP exists.”

“What sort of clients does he take in there?”

“How am I supposed to know, girl?!” Cherry laughs. “I mean, I’ve been here ’bout eight months, and I’ve seen him go in with a few high-profile athletes, movie stars, rappers … and some corporate-looking guys. And some not-so-desirable guys, if you get my drift.”

I read between the lines. Cherry’s careful with her words, but I’m guessing she’s referring to underworld-type figures. UVIP sounds like a room I need to find a way into. If there’s any discussion relating to PARM-17, it’s likely Carson will have it there.

I’ll do what it takes to find a way in.

***

It’s just shy of three am, and I’m bone tired. I must have done over ten thousand steps tonight. I place my fingertip onto the scanner, unlocking the door to the apartment. It closes softly behind me as I enter and take a few quiet steps into the living room.

The TV is on, muted, with Soren asleep on the lounge in front of it.

A dart tournament plays on the screen.

God, men will literally watch any sport. Even something boring as fuck as darts.

I stand in the living room for a few moments, and I notice Soren’s still dressed.

Did he go out?

Unlikely. He needs to lay low, even more so than me. Plus, he’s antisocial from what I’ve observed, preferring to write in that stupid notebook he carries everywhere.

I walk back into the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Closing the fridge door, I turn and my heart drops to my ass.