Asylum

Chapter 42: You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry

I nearly collided with Marshall, who was coming back up the stairs, as I left the box, but brushed past him without a word. As I approached Mateo's post, my eyes fell on several white paper takeout bags sitting on the floor just behind him. I paused on the bottom step.

"What the hell happened with the food?" I snapped. "The little one practically drank himself under the table just to have something to do with his hands."

Mateo frowned at my tone. "The security that came down with Marsh was over-cautious," he explained. "They insisted that no one interrupt the meeting without the go-ahead from their boss. I didn't think it was worth a bloodbath for the sake of a few munchies." His focus shifted back to the club itself, checking the hall behind him first. "Don't worry about the food," he rumbled. "It'll get eaten."

"Do I look worried?" I asked with an oversized grin, knowing I probably looked and sounded maniacal. A scowl swept onto my face as I pushed onwards to the kitchen. The swinging doors exploding inwards almost caught the barback Colin in the face, but after a quick glance at me, his indignation evaporated and he scurried out the doors, giving me an almost comically wide berth.

I slammed the tub of dishes and glassware down on the stainless steel counter next to the washing sink, my fingers curled, white-knuckled, over the plastic edges. The unnatural silence made me swivel my head to the left, where a knot of cooks was staring at me.

"What?!" I hollered. Eyes twitched away guiltily as they picked up their previous conversation.

I took a deep breath and checked my watch. 1:03. Still almost four hours until I could expect to leave. I settled a mask of calm over my face as my insides continued seething and went back to my station.

Stefano barely looked up as I returned. "Meeting over?" he asked, pulling a pint and placing it on the bar before collecting the cash from a patron.

"Yep."

"Okay, well, NeNe's on break right now, then Glory, and you after, got it?"

"NeNe, Glory, Lex. Got it."

Stefano smiled and added the tip he'd just received to a pounder that had been requisitioned as a tip jar. He dumped out the wad of cash and folded it into his pocket, then gestured grandly to my station. "The floor is yours, milady."

I slipped behind my well without another word and looked up to identify my next customer with a quick smile.

"What's the special tonight?" a blue-haired young woman asked.

"A LifeSaver!" I shouted over the music. "Pick your color!"

The excited club rat ordered a red and a blue, and I got to work.

I turned to Glory as I put the ice in the lowballs. "Are you guys going out tonight?" I asked.

Glory glanced at me in surprise. "Seriously?"

"When have you ever known me to not be serious?" I asked, pouring in the vodka and lifting the bottle about two feet above the glass before dropping it to repeat the motion with the second drink.

Glory stilled her cocktail shaker and began decanting into a martini glass. "Good point; you're always such a huge downer," she teased. She passed a cocktail over the bar. "A friend of Bruno's is in a band and they're hosting an after-hours set/party in the Village. So do you wanna come? They'll probably suck, but ... who really cares?"

I laughed as I grabbed the Alize Red Passion and the blue curaçao. "Yeah, who cares?" I repeated. "I'll be there."

I wished that my eyes hadn't snapped to the railing of the owner's box after I'd said that, but before I knew what I was doing, there they were. Ivan wasn't. The lights were out and a furtive glance confirmed that Mateo no longer lurked at the bottom of the stairs.