Chapter 6 #2
The door behind them slid shut, and the lights flashed once. The scan lasted only a few seconds before the wall in front of them slid open, revealing the club within, a pounding pulse beat of bass-driven music pouring over them.
Vesuvius was three levels of wealthy indulgence, with a vast open center dominated by a dance floor whose music was overseen by an AI instead of a celebrity DJ.
Two bars on opposite sides lined the wall and handled drinks for those who didn’t have the clout to make it to the VIP sections up on the second and third levels.
Those areas overlooked the dance floor in balconies that jutted outward, with fashionably dressed men and women looking down on those who didn’t make the cut.
The lighting in the club was low but not dark, making it easier for their eyes to adjust.
Trevor quickly put himself between Jamie and the woman who seemed to appear out of nowhere from the crowd. The outfit she wore could barely be called a dress, the design having taken the cutout motif popular right now to the extreme. Her smile was professional though, even if her clothes were not.
“Mr. Callahan, it’s truly an honor to have you grace our establishment,” she said a little loudly to be heard over the music, one hand clenched into a fist, the data rings she wore proof she was working rather than partying. “We have a table ready for you and your guests.”
“Your security needs to be educated on their betters. If this is the kind of reception you hand out, I’ll find somewhere else to be,” Jamie said in a clipped, displeased tone.
The woman practically fell over herself to apologize. “I am truly sorry for the mistake, Mr. Callahan. Security out front will be dealt with, I assure you. Please, let us make it up to you. Your drinks will be on the house tonight for as long as you stay.”
Liam pushed past Jamie with a smile. “That’s brilliant. We love it when the house pays the bill. Why don’t you show us up, yeah?”
The woman nodded, gesturing for them to follow her through the outskirts of the crowd. Trevor took point, with Madison claiming rear guard, the two of them keeping a sharp eye on the crowd to make sure no one tried to approach the group.
The security guards monitoring the stairs were far more accommodating this time around, making sure the cluster of people hoping to be allowed through stayed out of the way as Jamie’s group made their way up.
The second level wasn’t as crowded as the first, which meant their presence was noticed by far more people as they were led to their private table.
Jamie ignored them in favor of steering Kyle over to the couches that made up a comfortable alcove situated against the wall.
Bottles of expensive alcohol were neatly clustered in the middle of the low table, glasses close at hand for a straight pour if one didn’t want a beer.
For mixed drinks, roving bartenders tended to the tables when summoned while scantily clad women made sure empty bottles were replaced with full ones.
Bottle service like this was pricey, the water tax a heavy hit on any establishment, but especially places that served alcohol.
The thin margin between going under and breaking above even could be found in the accounts of the wealthy, so long as they were willing to pay for it.
Jamie’s group didn’t need to worry about that tonight.
They settled in, with Madison and Trevor taking up discreet positions beyond the alcove to keep watch while the rest of them pretended they were having a good time.
Almost immediately, a bartender approached, offering his services, to which Liam declined after taking one look at Jamie’s annoyed expression.
Alexei reached for the vodka bottle with one hand, flipping over six shot glasses with the other. “You make good asshole, Jamie.”
“He’s had practice,” Katie said mildly.
Jamie purposefully ignored her, settling his hand high up on Kyle’s thigh as he turned to look at Liam. “How long do you think it’ll take for word to get around that we’re here?”
Liam took the shot glass Alexei offered him with a shrug. “You keep being a proper wanker, probably not long. I give it an hour, maybe less.”
“You SAS as bet prone as the Marines?” Kyle asked, taking two shot glasses and handing one to Jamie.
“I’d wager we’re worse.”
“Forty minutes. A hundred dollars.”
“This is Jamie we’re talking about. Thirty minutes, tops, and two hundred pounds.”
Katie pointedly raised her shot glass. “We’re here to drink, boys. To finally getting out and getting our business off the ground.”
“Davayte vyp’yem za uspekh nashego dela,” Alexei said, toasting the table before knocking back his vodka.
Jamie drank his down easily, letting Sean pour them all another round this time.
None of them really needed to worry about getting drunk.
As metahumans, their metabolisms ran a lot faster than humans.
Jamie could probably work his way through a bottle or two on the table by himself and maybe get a buzz, if he was lucky.
Word traveled fast when real money walked through the doors of the club.
Trevor and Madison stopped a dozen people from trying to reach the group, hoping to introduce themselves, all of whom were denied the privilege.
Jamie paid them zero attention, intent on catching up with Liam as much as he could before the real work began.
“That didn’t take long,” Katie said under her breath barely twenty minutes later, eyeing the sleekly dressed woman talking intently with Trevor and Madison.
Jamie ignored them until Madison came forward, getting within speaking range. “Zara is Mr. Jansen’s assistant. He’s extending a personal invitation for you and your friends to join him upstairs.”
Jamie kept his eyes on Zara as he said, loud enough for her to hear, “Liam, do I care who this Jansen guy is?”
“Pretty sure he owns the club,” Liam said, pretending to be more interested in his beer than the conversation.
“How nice. He owns a club. One that doesn’t pay particularly close attention to the clientele they need to keep it open, so I can’t see how he’ll stay in business much longer.”
Even from where he sat, Jamie could see the annoyed expression forming on Zara’s face.
“If he owns the place, then he’s a businessman,” Katie said, setting down her glass and snapping her fingers at Alexei. “Let’s say hello.”
“Am celebrating, not working,” Alexei grumbled.
“You can multitask. Let’s go. Jamie?”
Katie perched on the edge of her seat, looking at him with an expectant expression on her face, perfectly playing the businesswoman not wanting to waste an opportunity for networking.
But she wasn’t going to do anything without his say-so, revealing to their audience where the real power lay within their group.
Jamie made a show of turning to look at Kyle, who was sprawled out beside him, one foot propped up on the table, fiddling with the face of the Rolex on Jamie’s right wrist.
“Apparently, Katie wants me to work,” he said.
“I’d let you work me, but I don’t think that’d make Katie happy,” Kyle drawled.
Jamie didn’t have to fake the desire that filled his gaze at that statement. “Later.”
“Promise?”
“If you’re good.”
Kyle smiled, slow and wicked, letting his bent leg tip to the side, putting himself on display. “Oh, I can be good.”
“Christ, mate,” Liam said, loud enough for Jamie to hear. “You can shag your man later. Save us from Katie’s murder eyes first.”
Jamie wrenched his gaze away from Kyle, expression smoothing out as he looked at Katie. “Fine. We’ll meet the owner of this place if it will make you happy.”
“Immensely,” Katie replied dryly as she stood, sparkly clutch in hand. “Thank you.”
Jamie got to his feet before holding his hand out to Kyle, who took it without hesitation. Jamie hauled him up, keeping a firm grip as they made their way out of the alcove. As they approached where Zara stood, Jamie let go of Kyle’s hand to slide his own over Kyle’s ass in a proprietary manner.
“My associate says meeting your boss won’t be a waste of her time,” Jamie said in a bored voice. “Let’s see if that’s true.”
Anger snapped in Zara’s dark eyes, but she knew better than to argue with him. “I can assure you, Mr. Callahan, that Mr. Jansen will be worth your time.”
Jamie smiled coolly. “Very little is worth my time.”
Zara’s gaze flicked briefly to where Kyle was tucked against his side, a bored expression on his face. Whatever assumption she made about them would be exactly what they wanted her to think. Turning on her heels, she led the way through a crowd of people pretending not to watch their every move.
The third level of Vesuvius was practically empty compared to the other two.
A plas-glass wall embedded with sound dampeners enclosed the sleek space, the music and noise from the dance floor and second level barely discernible as they crested the stairs.
The level stretched along one side of the building rather than wrapping completely around like the level below did.
The limited amount of space gave the appearance of importance to those who lounged around its intimate setting.
Zara led them to a cluster of couches and chairs close to the middle of the level and overlooking the club.
Trevor and Madison broke away to join a group of people in clothes that screamed bodyguard at a different table close by.
Jamie took in the men and women gathered at the main table, memorizing faces in a single quick glance.
One of the men threw back his head and laughed at something someone said before he turned and smiled in Jamie’s direction, hazel eyes more brown than green in the low lighting.
“Jamie Callahan,” Nikolaas Jansen said. “It is quite a pleasure to make the acquaintance of a man of your status.”