Chapter 7 Harrison
HARRISON
My God, she’s brilliant. One of the best singers I’ve ever heard.
And she’s so damned beautiful, too. Angelic in her cream-colored gown that shows off the graceful curves of her body.
I’ve heard that last song before. I’ve never been that big of a West Side Story fan, but any theater scholar worth his salt will be familiar with every song from it.
But I’ve never heard it sung the way Bianca just sang it.
It was so different from the rest of her set.
It had so much of her heart, her soul in it.
It was like the other patrons and I were getting a rare glimpse into her soul.
Her other songs were great, and she sang them with even more gusto her second time around, but it was nothing compared to her encore.
I don’t know if I’ll ever listen to another singer the same way again.
I laugh at my own thoughts. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was falling in love at first sight with this woman.
I barely know her. The longing wistfulness of her last song touched me in a way I never knew music could. That’s it. Nothing more than that.
I’ve been so busy at the hospital lately. I haven’t gotten a chance to go out to live performances as much as I’d like. It’s so easy to get muddied down with the little things, forget how much beauty exists in the world.
Bianca Montrose gave me a huge reminder of that this evening.
I’ll never forget it.
You’d think that all the time I spend around the sick and dying would make me seek out the things that make life worth living, but it’s had the opposite effect.
I’ve become numb. Going from day to day without feeling anything, just putting in the motions and then going home, watching TV with a half-empty glass of wine in my hand before going into a night of dreamless sleep, ready to start the cycle again the next morning.
Bianca could break that cycle.
Even if I never see her again, I’ve been inspired by her performance. I won’t take the little things for granted in the future. I’ll seek out the world’s beauty and relish it.
One thing is for sure, though.
I want to get to know Bianca Montrose better.
Her sister is on the board of my hospital. It can’t be that hard to get to know her.
Then again, Rouge has always come off as pretty withdrawn in the few board meetings I’ve attended. My best move is to pursue Bianca while she’s still in my sightline. And right now she’s scurrying into her dressing room.
I need to talk to her.
To tell her how much her performance moved me. That a few minutes of her singing one of her favorite songs completely realigned the way I think about life.
But also, perhaps, to ask her to dinner.
To dinner…and then drinks.
And then my bed.
Whoa, tiger. One step at a time.
Right. First things first. I’ll tell her how wonderful she sounded. Hopefully that’ll ignite a friendly conversation which I can organically steer into a dinner invitation.
I snuff out the remains of my cigar and then cross the Clubs section toward Bianca’s dressing room when—
“Dr. O’Rourke!”
A chill runs down my spine and goosebumps erupt all over my arms at the haughty voice behind me. I slowly turn around.
Sure enough, Rouge Montrose, bedecked in a violent assemblage of greens, is standing behind the chair where I was just sitting.
Not the Montrose I was hoping to talk to.
Isn’t she supposed to be out at one of her other clubs tonight?
Maybe she came back early.
I don’t rightfully give a shit.
I’ll just blow her off and then go after her gorgeous sister.
I paste on a smile. “Hello, Rouge. How are you this evening?”
Her eyebrows twitch. “The question, Doctor, is how are you? That is to say, through what happenstance do we at Aces Underground owe the privilege of your patronage this evening?”
My God, this woman talks like a crossword puzzle at a high tea.
“I’m the guest of a member.”
“Which member?” Her eyes flicker. “It is my recollection that you have only come here as the plus-one of Maddox Hathaway. And Mr. Hathaway has been abroad for the last few weeks with his new lover, Miss Maravilla. I believe you know her as well?”
“I do. She’s a nurse at my hospital. We’ve missed her the last few weeks.”
“I’m sure you have. Such a light as hers is difficult to extinguish.” She purses her lips. “But we’re getting off the subject. With whom did you enter the club this evening, Doctor?”
Shit. I don’t want to get Bianca in trouble.
“I didn’t sneak in, if that’s what you’re implying.”
She lays a hand over her breast. “Goodness, no. I would never assume such a thing. Not only because of your standing in our community, Doctor, but because we have top-notch security here at Aces. Nobody gets in without Chet’s approval.”
Okay, good. Maybe I can pin this on Chet instead of Bianca. He’s a shifty little fucker and probably has it coming.
“I can assure you that I have Chet’s approval.”
She blinks. “Of course. It would be impossible for you to be here without it.”
“Then why does it matter who I came here with tonight?”
She narrows her eyes. “Why are you being so guarded with this information?”
“Rouge, you have a club full of patrons.” I gesture around. “Why are you singling me out?”
“I’m merely making conversation, Doctor.
But your refusal to answer my question makes me suspicious.
” She takes a step toward me, her gaze darkening.
“You do realize that everyone frequenting Aces Underground does so at my pleasure? Answer my question, or I will have no choice but to have you escorted out.”
She’s bluffing.
Chet is skin and bones. He couldn’t “escort” me out if he tried.
But then there are Rouge’s Kings. The muscled linebackers in every section who stare at the club’s visitors silently, keeping an eye out for trouble.
I could maybe take one of them, but if all four descended on me at once…
“Fine,” I say. “I was brought in as a guest of one of your staff.”
She cocks her head at that, but her expression remains neutral. “One of my staff?”
I nod. “Chet allowed it, so I assume everything is kosher.”
She lifts her eyebrows. “Kosher, Dr. O’Rourke?”
“You know. Fit. Proper. Within the parameters of the rules.”
“I know what kosher means, Doctor.” She paces around me. “It’s funny you should use that word. My sister and I were raised half-Jewish, you know.”
“I did not know that.”
“Neither of us is particularly religious, but we did learn the customs of our ancestors. Do you know the rules that the Jewish people have to follow to remain kosher?”
“I mean, I know pork isn’t allowed.”
“Precisely.” She flashes a grin. “Pigs are not considered kosher because mammals must satisfy two requirements for their flesh to be used as sustenance. They must chew their own cud, and they must have cloven hooves. While pigs meet the second requirement, they fail to meet the first.”
“Thank you for the cultural lesson.” I take a step back. “But I really shouldn’t be monopolizing you this whole evening. I’m sure the whole club is itching to bend your ear.”
She closes in on me. “The same can be said of you, Doctor. You certainly meet the requirements for club membership. High standing in our city, a good job, not to mention a certain…aesthetic.” She runs a finger down my jaw.
“But not every requirement is met. You are not a member in your own right, and you are not the guest of a member.” She moves her fingers from my jaw to the back of my neck.
“Tell me, which staff member brought you into the club?”
I remain stoic. “I would prefer not to say.”
She snaps her hand back to her waist, her eyes sparkling with annoyance and something more.
The delight in a challenge. “Very well, Doctor. I can easily figure it out through a process of elimination.” She taps her finger against her chin.
“The only staff who use the front entrance are myself, Bianca, her instrumentalists, Mr. Night, DeeDee and Dudley, and the dealers in the Diamonds section. All the cards use another entrance, so we can count them out. The bar staff and musicians are not allowed to speak while they are on the Aces premises, so they can be counted out. The Blackjack dealers and croupiers usually come in early to set up their tables, and Mr. Night hardly seems your type.” She smirks.
“I suppose I can count myself out, since I certainly”—she strokes my cheek with a gloved finger—“would remember bringing a man of your stature into my club. That leaves us with just one person.” She paces around me.
“A person who usually comes in just a few minutes before opening. When she actually makes it in on time, that is.”
I take a tentative step toward her. “Rouge, I think we have a misunderstanding here.”
“So tell me, Doctor. Why did my sister find it so imperative that you be here at this club tonight?”