The Blood In the Beginning (3 page)

A man in a black suit and tie, around my height, looked me up and down, mostly down. ‘He's waiting for you.'

‘Great.' I had no idea who
he
was. Billy? The manager?

My guide led the way into the foyer and down narrow stairs. I followed. Butterflies flirted under my ribs. I guess there was more riding on this interview than I'd realised. ‘You know, for a new club, you guys have some public liability issues to sort out. These stairs, for one, are set too steep and narrow. The ceiling's too low, and I don't know how you manage the line-up outside.' My words came out staccato, punctuated by each step as we went lower and lower into the bowels of the building. ‘Not very well lit, either. No beading light?' Stress let loose my officious critique mode. I blamed it on the Virgo star sign.

He didn't respond. Warm chap. When we finally reached the double doors at sub-ground level, he pushed through. The air hit me in the face. And then the acoustics … it felt instantly like a big space. Really big. I kept walking, right into another world.

‘Oh, wow.' I had to pause.
So this is what the buzz is about
.

It smelled clean, spacious, like open ocean air, and for good reason. The lower level dance floor could have housed a Boeing 747 with a space shuttle strapped to its back. The upstairs balconies overlooking it were at least six tables wide. It was done up like a Mississippi River steamboat, with chandeliers giving off vivid colours, possibly red and blue. To me they were green and navy. The red was just a guess, but I knew people liked contrast. The bar ran from one end of the far wall to the other, longer than a couple of back-to-back tenpin bowling lanes. The wall gleamed with rows of glasses sparkling on polished wood shelves. All that wasn't the breath-stealer though. Not by a long shot.

The entire back wall was a freaking floor to ceiling aquarium, flanked by mirrors, as if the place didn't seem big enough already. This was Poseidon alright: king of the sea. There was sunken treasure, along with a tropical reef and little sharks. I tilted my head up, way up, taking in the frescos on the ceiling, a regular underwater Sistine Chapel. If I smelled a better paycheck last night, my nose hit the mother lode in here. What a joint. No wonder every girl, guy and their dogs were lining up half the night to get in. Cate had really underplayed the whole thing when she described it to me. So not like her.

As my eyes came down the opposite wall, I spotted dance cages hanging from the ceiling. They were complete with manacles, as if made for slaves. Who in their politically right mind would want to go there?
Way to creep out a class act.
On ground level, there were booths lining the dance floor on three sides. My guide kept walking toward one. I lagged, trying to close my jaw, which had dropped when we walked through the doors.

He turned. ‘Let's not keep him waiting, shall we?'

‘Let's not.' So what if the decor was a little eccentric, not to mention macabre? Dollar signs blocked my vision; the stress of making tuition was a chronic load on my shoulders and this job could vanquish it. I hurried to catch up, boots clipping across the floor.

A hip-hop beat switched on, blasting from hidden speakers. Lights went up and a dance troupe rehearsed. Impressive. The men were topless, wearing only long black ‘skin-tights'. Nothing was left to the imagination. Not a single nook or cranny. The women were dressed the same, only in reverse, bare legs up to their G-string uncovered butts, and sequined, black halter tops. Not much support for the kinds of moves they were doing, for either gender.

‘This way,' my guide said.

It was taking some time to cross the floor; the room's capacity must be over three thousand. No way were the entrance and stairs up to code for this size venue. Could there be another way in and out? I was going to ask about that as well. But all those ordered, Virgo thoughts vanished when I spotted the man in the booth. He was bent over his work, completely absorbed, until he noticed me. One look and my feet stopped dead. It was too soon. I hadn't reached the booth, but my body wouldn't move any closer. He was handsome, yeah. Cate would say a hottie, but it was more than that. I saw attractive men much of the time in my line of work. It gave me pretty good immunity to them. It struck me at once that this must be the owner, Daniel Bane. The way Cate talked, he was like a god with his rich-mahogany hair, hazel-blue eyes and a body that … well, promised a lot under the three-piece Armani. The only thing I could think was: He conducts the interviews? That can't be right. Where's the manager?

‘Ava Sykes?' He put down his pen and stood, fitting Cate's description. He was medium-tall, with broad shoulders and a dark complexion. Very good-looking, I reaffirmed.
And rich
. It wasn't the suit, alligator loafers and white silk shirt alone that gave it away. He had a kind of elegance that oozed power. A total turn-on, I'll admit. ‘I'm Daniel Bane. Glad to finally meet you.'

Finally?
It hadn't even been twenty-four hours since the invite from Billy. I breathed in, checking for anything that didn't smell right. I had an acute sense of smell. That might sound amazing, like having a superpower, but most of the time it was a pain in the ass. Sure, some things were lovely, such as fresh strawberries, melting chocolate, and fine cologne on a man — exhibit A right in front of me. But other odours …
damn
. New LA wasn't exactly a bouquet of heavenly scents, even without the smog, dumpsters and clogged sewers. As a kid, I'd learnt to keep my nose to myself. Pointing out that somebody needed to brush their teeth, or that a teacher's clothes reeked of cigarettes, was not the best way to make friends. Problem was, certain scents were once major triggers for me. Fear, rage … blood. Of course, being a bouncer meant exposure to these very things, but I had learnt to get over it, to contain my reactions. With Daniel, all I caught from this distance was salt air, and a hint of the aforementioned fine cologne.

He waved me over as if I wasn't standing there halfway to rigor mortis. ‘I've been thinking of you.' The look on his face was curious, reserved, like he had a lot of energy, and it was under complete control.

What could he possibly be thinking about me?
I was stumped by that, but managed to move forward. ‘Um … why?'

He opened his hand out, ignoring my question. ‘Please, sit.' His voice was smooth and deep.

‘Thanks.'
Why is he thinking of me?
I asked myself again. The cushion whooshed beneath my weight. His hand gently touched mine and the query vanished, no longer a concern. There was a fraction of a second where I felt a warning, but it melted like butter in the sun.
This guy's amazing.

‘So, Ava, tell me, where are you from?'

‘Homegrown LA, pre-Big One.'

He cleared his throat and I could tell I'd given the wrong answer. ‘No, I mean, where are you from, originally?'

Huh?

‘Let me put it this way, how long have you been here?'

What part of homegrown did he not understand? ‘Born here,' I said slowly, ‘in LA, all twenty-four years of my life.'

He pressed his lips together. ‘Good. Well done.'

The whole exchange had me lost and so did looking into those hazel-blue eyes. This close, I could see flecks of violet.

‘You're an undergraduate? UCLA?'

‘How …'

‘Don't be surprised, Ava. We run background checks on potential employees.'

This — including Billy's initial approach — had to be Cate's doing. I made a mental note to thank her. Except a background check was not on my top ten list of favourite things. I wasn't worried though. Working security for Daniel Bane? How could it get better than that?

‘Drink?' he asked.

I caught a whiff of Scotch and frowned.
At four in the afternoon?
‘No, thank you.'

‘Of course,' he said as if just remembering, ‘you'll be starting tonight.' It wasn't a question.

‘Wow. Thanks.' I'd miss out on the scheduled full night's sleep, but suddenly I didn't feel the least bit tired.

‘If you're worried about your old job, don't be.'

I'd forgotten about it completely, which was weird.
Maybe I should muster up a little more concern.
‘My loyalties to Lucky Lounge are …'

‘Admirable,' he cut in.

‘I was going to say flexible. I'm part-time.'

‘No-time, at this point. Lucky Lounge shut down today, license suspended for a month.'

That was gonna hurt. ‘Guess I'm out of a job.' I felt a smile creep over my face.

‘We'd like to take you on trial here.'

One door closes, another opens
. ‘Is that a trial with full pay?' I'd heard of trials that went on forever, at slave wages.

‘This may encourage you.' Daniel wrote a figure on a piece of paper. He folded it in half and slid it across the smooth tabletop. How formal was this guy?

I opened the note. Just what I thought, slave wages. ‘This much per shift isn't …'

‘Per hour.'

‘Oh … that's good then.' I unleashed the smile completely. Top dollar in my industry.

He tapped the note with a long, manicured finger. ‘With six- to eight-hour shifts, three nights a week. Will that work for you?'

‘Awesome!' Okay, in this moment, sophisticated I was not, but my financial worries had lightened up on the spot. This would cover rent, and make up for the shortfall I owed on my tuition. I guess a place this upmarket could afford top wages. I knew Cate made a bundle, even without tips.

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. ‘Can you be back here at nine?' Daniel took my giddy expression and head nodding for a yes. ‘Jason, head of security, will show you the ropes. You can report to him.' He looked at his Rolex. ‘I'll walk you up.'

‘Terrific. Thanks.'

Daniel leaned toward me and said something light and playful, which didn't register. I was suddenly too preoccupied to compute his words, thinking either the guy ate raw meat for lunch, or … I laughed inwardly. He probably had just been to the dentist. How else would he have the scent of blood on his breath? ‘Thank you.' Great. Now I was repeating myself.

‘It's good to have you on board,' Daniel went on, oblivious to my inner dialogue, though his expression did look a little perplexed.

I nodded, repressing the urge to keep thanking him. In this business, it was best not to come across as a complete suck-up. I stood, and he was beside me in one graceful movement.

The walk across the floor dazed me; the music pounding, dancers gyrating and the cages lit up in bright lights. I'd gone from employed to unemployed to well-employed in one second flat. Hard to believe. If I'd not been somewhat self-conscious, I might have whooped aloud. But Daniel seemed a reserved kind of guy and, for some inexplicable reason, that mattered to me. Before I knew it, we were up at the foyer, my hand captured inside both of his.

‘I'll check on you later tonight, but you have my personal number.' He pulled out a card and tucked it in my hand. ‘Call me any time.'

I ran my thumb over the surface of the card. The writing was fine and slightly raised. This wasn't a sleazy come-on. The man genuinely cared. He released my hand, waiting, as if I was meant to say more.

‘I really appreciate the job.'

‘See you tonight.' With that, he retreated downstairs.

The black suit stepped up to open the door and usher me out. It closed behind my back in a soft whoosh. I stood for a moment, the world muted, euphoria twirling around me like a candyfloss machine picking up threads of my mind and weaving them into a bundle of juicy sweet sugar. I headed down the street, revelling, but with every step I took, the traffic became louder, people pressed in, hurrying past, horns honked, exhaust thickened. I came back to myself. ‘What the hell just happened?' I said aloud.

Cate was right. There was definitely something odd about my new boss, Daniel Bane. Mesmerising? I relived the interview, the things I'd said, the questions unasked.
I didn't even bring up the safety regulations on street level.
‘Ava Sykes, I believe you have been wowed.' That was so not me, but I couldn't muster the energy to worry about it — also not like me and my analytical, detail loving Virgo mind. Cate wouldn't steer me wrong, but I would have to watch myself around Daniel Bane. No hanky-panky. He had allure, but I had rules, and I kept them.

I hadn't seen Cate in over a week, but it had to be her who'd talked me up and pulled strings to land me a personal interview with the owner. It wasn't like they headhunted bouncers, did they? I squirmed for a moment, thinking about the background check. Obviously, it hadn't raised suspicions, and why would it? It had been watertight for years.
Relax and enjoy the moment, already.
Better yet, share the moment. I dug out my phone and dictated a text to Cate, avoiding cars while jaywalking to the bus stop on North Grand. By the time I said, ‘Send,' the bus was pulling up, on its way to Huntington Park and beyond. I slid into a front seat and set my phone alarm. If I'd learnt anything as a student working nights, it was how to catnap, any time, anywhere. My eyes shut and that was it.

* * *

Dusk was falling twenty-five minutes later, turning one of the few trees on the block to gold. It was a yellow-leafed maple, bang in front of my kitchen window. Handy too. Its leaf colour was the main way to tell the seasons were changing. I trotted up the steps to the apartment building and caught a familiar fragrance. I knew what it meant. Cate at my door. I'd recognise her perfume anywhere. I also picked up the scent of green onions, mushrooms and basil along with a faint paper bag smell. She'd shopped.
Damn, I knew I'd forgotten something.
My mouth watered as I swiped my card, punched the code and buzzed myself in. Sure enough, standing in the hall was Cate, but her posture told me instantly she wasn't here to celebrate my new job. Her body language spelled trouble with Joey, the on-again off-again asswipe boyfriend. I did have my psychic moments, but this was purely visual. Her duffle bag and backpack gave it away, along with the tears. I swiped the lock and let us both in.