Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Harrison looks down the staircase, swallowing. “This is like a fucked-up version of the regular mirrored staircase that members use.”
“As my sister always says, we bask in the weird and the wonderful here at Aces Underground.”
He tilts his head. “That sounds familiar.”
“You probably heard it from my sister when you were here with Maddox.”
“No. It was more recent than that.” He snaps his fingers. “Mr. Night. In the Clubs section. He said it to me when I got here, before I even met you. But he said something else, about turning things upside down.”
“The second part of the phrase. Was it something along the lines of”—I adopt a mystical tone—“‘here we believe that turning the known upside down reveals the hidden?’”
“That was it. I thought it sounded like a warped-ass fortune cookie.”
“Everything about Aces Underground is a warped-ass fortune cookie,” I say. “Take these stairs, for instance. They’re intimidating by design. The last line of defense against someone trying to sneak in. Only the extraordinary can thrive within these walls.” I elbow him gently in the ribs. “Luckily you’ve got someone who knows the club inside and out on your side.”
“Thank God,” he says. “I’d lead the way, but…”
“It’s okay.” I reach into my purse, pull out a small flashlight, and turn it on. The beam bounces off the broken shards of mirror and illuminates the staircase.
We descend, closing the faux mirror behind us, and reach the Red Door marked with the familiar etching of the Spade, the Diamond, the Club, and the Heart. I press on the club, and mechanical gears whir behind it.
“Hear that?” I say. “That’s the bathroom walls. They slide out of place so we can open the door. It takes just a sec.”
“Christ, this place is a funhouse.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” I twist the doorknob and open it. The rosy light of the ladies’ restroom floods the space.
Harrison squints. “Lot of pink in here.”
I smirk. “Subtlety isn’t really my sister’s forte. But come on, we need to get you situated. There’s a quiet corner in Clubs behind the hookah pipes where you should be able to hang until opening time, and then once the place is filled, you can slip in discreetly. Just keep your head down and avoid Rouge like the plague. The men don’t get nearly as much attention as the women, anyway.” I check my watch. “The rest of the band should be arriving soon. I have to prepare for my set.”
“Okay, babe. Be safe.” He reels me in for a quick kiss.
“Same goes to you. If anything goes wrong, just get out as quickly as possible.” I depress the club-shaped button on the wall and the bathroom walls slide in to obscure the door. “You see how this club juts out from the wall slightly? Press it like an elevator button and you’ll be able to access the Red Door. It’s typically open during working hours in case a server has to leave because they get sick or something. You should be able to escape through here if necessary.”
He grabs my hands. “But what about you?”
I swallow. “I can deal with my sister if I need to.”
I’m not sure how true those words are, but they seem to pacify Harrison. “All right,” he says. “But if it appears that you’re in any danger, I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’d try to convince you to do otherwise, but I know I’d be unsuccessful.” I give Harrison one last peck on the lips. “I’ll see you on the Aces floor.”
With one last plea to the heavens to protect the both of us, I leave the bathroom and head to my dressing room.
37
HARRISON
I’m tucked away behind the table where the bright-green hookahs are laid. It’s been about a half hour since I moved here, and the other Aces staff are beginning to arrive.
Pretty soon I’ll be able to come out and blend in, but Bianca’s instructions were clear. Wait until the club is full. It’s a holiday, so it’ll be busy.
The Clubs section is always illuminated in green, but tonight the lights of the Spades, Diamonds, and Hearts sections match. Just like the damned Chicago River. Everything is green for St. Patrick’s Day.
And my birthday.
Just like Ray Sinclair’s fucking highlights.
What a way to ring in thirty-six.
I just hope I make it to thirty-seven.
“Dr. O’Rourke?”
Fuck. Guess I’m not.
Mr. Night stands in front of me, his eyes wide. “You are certainly dressed a little differently tonight, Doctor.”
“Mr. Night, I—”
He presses a finger to my lips. “You’re not supposed to talk, Doctor. Or should I say”—he eyes my right shoulder—“Ace.”
Mr. Night used to work at the Noir Parlor and didn’t disappear. Which means he must be at least partially aware of what Rouge is up to.
He might be fully aware and just doesn’t give a shit.
He could be on her side.