The VIP Room (11 page)

I
t was
one of those afternoons when the office was practically deserted, everyone either holed up working on projects or out in the field, so I was actually able to make headway into my pile of things to do by the time it was five o’clock. Sam walked out of his office door, briefcase in hand, just as I was preparing to go get him.

The afternoon had been completely normal, with no hint of the earlier tension between us. I might have wondered if I’d imagined it, except for his hand on my lower back as he walked me out through the lobby. He usually opened doors and helped me into his truck, but he rarely touched me more than he needed to.

I looked out of the corner of my eye to see if the receptionist noticed, but she was already gone for the day. The coffee house was a short trip, one we made mostly in silence. Sam seemed distracted, and I was preoccupied with wondering what Tim would have to tell me about Nolan.

We arrived at the coffee shop fifteen minutes after five to find Tim already there, waiting in the back, his fingers drumming nervously on the table. He was a skinny guy, with the sloppy clothes and negligent grooming stereotypical of most programmers, complete with pale skin and a geeky t-shirt. This one read 'Any fool can use a computer. Many do.'

Tim worked, and Nolan used to work, for a start-up that offered partially automated customer service bots for companies to cut down on actual people providing service. Instead of outsourcing the work to other countries, they were allowing the positions to be filled by bots. Nolan had seemed to like the job, but maybe he hadn’t. It was turning out that I didn’t know as much about my brother as I thought I did.

Tim’s eyes widened when he saw me and he smiled in welcome. Then he noticed Sam behind me and scowled.

“Who is that?” he asked.

“My friend Sam,” I said, sitting down across from Tim, “He’s helping me look for Nolan. You really haven’t seen him?”

“I don’t know if I want to talk with him here,” Tim said, reminding me of a sullen child.

“Why not?” I asked. “He’s just a friend who’s helping me.”

Tim eyed Sam warily. “Fine,” he said. “I don’t know all that much.”

He shifted in his chair, rubbing his palms on his jeans, his eyes flicking between Sam and me, beads of perspiration on his forehead. I’d only met Tim a few times, but I didn’t remember him being this edgy. I was glad Sam was with me. Leaning in close so I could lower my voice, I said,

“Tim, please just tell me what you know about Nolan. I won’t get you into trouble, I promise. Neither will Sam.”

“Hey, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Tim said, shaking his head. “But Nolan got mixed up with some bad guys. He was playing cards a lot at night and he started playing in a room I heard belonged to Sergey Tsepov. Then he asked to borrow money from me.”

“Did you give it to him?” I asked. Tim shook his head, shuffling his feet under his chair and wiping his palms on his jeans again.

“I didn’t have it. And I know how it goes in this town. Never lend money to a guy who likes cards.”

“Where is the room he’s been playing?” I asked. Sam took my hand and tried to get my attention, but I ignored him, focused on Tim. If Nolan had been playing cards there a lot, maybe we’d get a better lead on where he was.

“315 Studen Street. You have to go in the back of the bar and talk to a guy named Dog to get in the game. I went with him once, but Dog freaked me out. He’s the only one of those guys who wasn’t Russian, and he looked like a biker.”

“Okay.” I stood when Sam grabbed my arm and practically dragged me to my feet. I tried to jerk my arm away, but he refused to let go, instead lacing his fingers with mine and pulling me in close. Before he could force me out of the coffee shop, I said to Tim, “Thanks, Tim. If you hear from Nolan, please, will you call me?”

He nodded, his eyes wide and kind of glazed as he watched Sam steer me through the chairs and tables and out the door. As soon as we were outside, I hissed, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sam opened the door to the truck and lifted me inside, his face dark, his eyes foreboding. He shut the door and rounded the front to get in, pulling his phone out as he went. He was already talking when he got in.

“… Yeah. Says he’s been playing in one of Tsepov’s rooms. On Studen. Fuck. I know. Call me when you know more. Thanks.”

“Axel?” I asked, unnerved by how angry Sam seemed to be. He gave a short nod. “Are you going to tell me what has you so upset?”

“Has your friend in there always been a tweaker?” Sam asked. I had no idea what he was asking.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“He was high, honey. Based on the fidgeting, dilated pupils, paranoia and sweating, I’m guessing meth.”

“I don’t know,” I said, looking down at my lap. I didn’t know anything about drugs. My dad was a drinker, and I’d always shied away from alcohol and drugs, afraid that whatever weakness drove my Dad to drink was hiding inside me as well. A horrifying thought occurred to me. “Do you think Nolan was doing drugs?”

“Did he act like Tim was? Paranoid, moving all the time, going without sleep?”

“No. Sometimes he came home really late, but then he’d pass out and I’d have a hard time getting him up for work. I guess he was out playing cards.”

“Sounds like it. I doubt he was on drugs, but if he’s tied up with Tsepov, then you’re out of this, Chloe. All the way out.”

“Why? We finally have something to go on, you can’t tell me I’m out of it.”

“Axel is going to the card room tonight. He’ll talk to Dog. He knows him, he can find out more than you can.”

“Then I’ll go to the pool hall and talk to this Feliks guy.”

“Chloe, just stay home and let Axel handle it,” Sam said, clearly exasperated.

“No. I have to find Nolan. The sooner I find him, the sooner everything can go back to normal.”

“You’re being irrational.”

“I’m not. You’re trying to control my life,” I said. “If you’re just going to get in my way, then take me to a hotel and I’ll do this on my own.”

“No fucking way,” Sam said. He pulled the truck in front of a pizza place we both knew and turned the engine off.

“Why are we here?” I asked, confused.

“Dinner,” he answered, starting to get out. I put out a hand to stop him.

“Don’t get pizza. Take me to the store and I’ll get something I can cook.”

“You don’t have to cook Chloe.”

“I know I don’t. But I like to cook. It relaxes me. And you have an awesome kitchen.”

Sam sat back and shut the car door. I was annoyed with him, but I still wanted to get my hands on his kitchen. Anyway, Daniel would be there and he wasn’t annoying me. He shouldn’t get stuck with pizza because his son was an ass.

Crossing my arms over my chest as we drove to the grocery store, I said, “I’m going to the pool hall tonight. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” I had my car. At some point that morning, it had appeared in the driveway of Sam’s house. I’d noticed it when we left for work.

“You need to stay out of this, Chloe.”

“He’s my brother.”

“And Tsepov is Russian mob. I do not want you on this guy’s radar. It’s bad enough if your brother is mixed up with him.”

“If he’s so bad, how do you know him?” I asked. Sam didn’t exactly spend a lot of time hanging out with criminals. To my surprise, he looked out the side window, avoiding my eyes.

“He’s got an interest in concrete.”

“YOU'VE WORKED WITH HIM?!” I shouted. There I was, yelling for the second time in one day. But it wasn’t often I found out my boss and best friend was doing business with the mob.

“Not the way you’re thinking. Not once I knew who he was. Axel filled me in and I’ve kept an eye out where my business interests cross with Tsepov’s. He’s a smart man, but he’s dangerous. You need to stay away from him.”

“Fine, then Axel can go to the card room. But I’m still going to find this Feliks guy at the pool hall.”

Sam sighed again. “I’ll ask Axel. If the pool hall is Tsepov’s, we’re not going. If it’s clean, I’ll take you after dinner.”

“Fine,” I said, aware that to disagree would be unreasonable. I wanted to find Nolan. I did not want to get mixed up with the Russian mob.

We pulled into the grocery store closest to Sam’s house and I pushed my problems out of my mind for a while. There was nothing I could do in the next few hours except try to relax by cooking a nice dinner in Sam’s amazing kitchen. So that’s what I was going to do.

Mentally rifling through recipes, I almost didn’t notice when Sam slid his arm around my shoulders as we entered the store. I thought about shrugging him off, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. However wrong my brain said it was to take a risk on Sam, something deep inside me thought it was very, very right.

S
o far the
day had been a frustrating combination of one step forward and two steps back. Chloe was keeping the clothes I’d bought her, and she’d agreed to stay in my house, but she’d shut down my overtures so completely at first I’d worried that she had no interest in ever letting me break through.

I wasn’t going to accept that. Not after the way she’d kissed me the night before. Chloe never would have kissed me with so much passion if she didn’t want me. I knew she cared for me. I just had to find a way to get her to trust me. If she wouldn’t accept that I was serious about her, I’d maneuver around her. At least that was my plan. It had been working so far.

I went in for a kiss, she’d push me away. So I stuck with the little things. Small touches. My arm around her. I’d figured out that she liked my easy affection, even leaned into me for more, as long as it wasn’t too overt. I was going to prove to her that she was mine. No matter how long it took.

We got home from the grocery store, and Chloe went to change, trading that sweet pink suit for a pair of stretchy dark green pants that hung loose around her legs but hugged her curvy ass so well I had to fight not to touch her. With it she wore a matching hoodie and tank top. It was comfy and fine for wearing around my Dad, but still undeniably sexy.

She was in the kitchen seasoning the chicken when Dad got home. At the sight of her cooking, he raised his eyebrows at me and gave me a look. He’d liked her for me from the start, but I’d always told him I wasn’t interested. I don’t know how he does it, but the second my feelings for her changed, he knew. He’d been on my ass ever since. I was doing this my way. As much as Dad liked Chloe, he didn’t know her like I did.

What came after was one of the best dinners we’d had in a long time. I had a professional grade kitchen, but neither of us cooked. We ate a lot of takeout, more than half the time sitting on the couch watching a game. With Chloe there, we ate at the table which Marte had cleared of her things while we were gone.

I’d been very pleased to find that Marte had made space in my closet for Chloe’s new wardrobe. More clothes had arrived while we were gone. Chloe hadn’t said anything, and I wondered if she’d noticed.

I was almost there. I had Chloe living in my house, her clothes in my closet, and she was sleeping in my bed. I just needed to join her there, and my life would be perfect. But we weren’t that far yet. And I had a feeling the conversation that took place after dinner had set me back. Again.

My guard was down when she left to change for the pool hall. I was full of the roasted chicken, veggies, and garlic mashed potatoes. The woman could seriously cook. It wasn’t why I wanted her. I’d eat takeout happily if I could eat it with Chloe. But her skills in the kitchen were a definite bonus. We’d tried to talk her out of the plan to find Feliks during dinner, but she’d dug in her heels. Dad and I were both a little mystified.

Chloe was smart. She was reasonable. Sensible. And reserved. Shy. Barreling into a pool hall was the last place she should want to go. She should have backed down and agreed to let Axel handle everything. It was the intelligent thing to do.

Instead she was insistent that she find Nolan herself. I understood that she loved her brother, but she was putting herself in danger she didn’t understand. Maybe she was right, maybe I didn’t get it. Because as far as I could see, Nolan wasn’t worth all this trouble, brother or not. He’d never done anything but take from her. She deserved more. When we found him, I planned to make it clear that his days of freeloading off Chloe were over.

I was sitting at the table thinking about what I was going to do to Nolan when we caught up to him, when Chloe walked out into the kitchen dressed for the pool hall. I almost swallowed my tongue.

I’d never seen her dressed like that. She wore black spike heels with an open toe that displayed shiny red toenails. Tight jeans cupped her ass the way I wanted to and a dark red clinging top with a scoop neck that showed way too much cleavage. They were completely un-Chloe clothes.

“What are you wearing?” I asked, my voice strangling in my throat. She looked down at herself and then back up at me.

“What? I don’t have much that’s casual. Unless you think I should wear a cocktail dress? Or what I was wearing during dinner?”

“No. Of course not. But that’s too-” I cut myself off and her face fell. She tugged on the top, pulling it out where it clung to her rounded waist. Shit. I should have known she’d think I was saying she looked fat. She was always worried about being overweight.

I didn’t think she was overweight. I thought she was just the right weight. But the one time I’d told her that, she’d skewered me with a look and asked if I thought bigger women were beautiful, why did I date skinny models all the time?

I hadn’t had a good answer. The truth was that I liked them too. I liked all different shapes on women, though too skinny had always been a turn off. And the other truth is that I’d been lazy. The model types were the women who came on to me. They were there, they were beautiful, and they were easy. But neither of those truths made me look particularly good, so I’d kept my mouth shut, probably making it worse. Exactly like I was doing just then.

Dad came to my rescue and said, “You look gorgeous, Chloe. I think what has Sam’s panties in a twist is that he doesn’t want to take you to a scummy pool hall where you’re going to attract attention from a bunch of men he normally wouldn’t want anywhere near you.”

She looked at me and I shrugged helplessly. “I know you’re going to say I can’t tell you what to do. But every man in that pool hall is going to be all over you, even with me there. Axel specifically said it wasn’t the kind of place I’d want to take you.”

“You already told me that,” she said, shifting her weight as she opened her small purse and began to look through it. “I’m still going.”

“I know.” Unfortunately, Axel said that the place wasn’t Tsepov’s as I’d thought it would be and I’d lost the upper hand on insisting we give it a pass. “I wish I still had your other suit.”

She looked up from her purse and met my eyes in confusion. “You said it was ugly.”

“It was. I wish you could wear it tonight.”

She shook her head at me as if I was a silly child and went back to looking through her purse.

“Clo,” I said, “have you ever been to a pool hall before?”

“No,” she answered absently. “We had a pool table at home when I was growing up so I always played there.”

This time I shook my head at her. She had no idea what we were getting into. I’d never been to Balls and Sticks, but I recognized the neighborhood. This wouldn’t be an upscale club with spotless felt on heavy wooden tables. This was going to be cracked neon signs and crappy bottled beer. I’d dressed down too, in the jeans and boots I wore on site, an old t-shirt, and my nine millimeter at my back. Thanks to Axel I’d gotten a license to carry concealed, and I’d never been happier about it.

Finally finished with whatever she was doing with her purse, she slid her ID and a small red tube into the front pocket of her jeans and looked up at me. “Are we going?”

“I guess we are,” I said, positive I was going to regret it.