“What were you guys talking about just now?”
Darren sighed.
Taylor said, “That… place. Downtown. The homosexual bar.”
Helena wanted to gnash her teeth. “Jack It.”
Taylor grimaced. “Yes. Darren had heard a rumor that the city might not renew the contract. He asked me about it and I told him I don’t comment on rumors.”
Well, that certainly wasn’t true. He commented on them all the time. It was sort of his job to respond to rumors. “Understandable,” I said. “Besides, it’s obviously a false rumor, so no need to worry about spreading it.”
“Why false?” Taylor asked me.
I shrugged. “Because closing one of the few gay clubs in Tucson would undoubtedly lead to the reasons being made public, which would cause the gay population of Tucson to starting raising holy homo hell.”
Darren snorted unattractively.
Okay, that was a lie.
Even his snort was attractive.
I was doomed.
“Holy homo hell?” Taylor repeated with a frown.
“It’s a thing,” I said. “Usually involving peaceable, yet sarcastic protest and glitter. Maybe someone makes quiche. I don’t know.”
“And you think this will happen.”
I shrugged. “Well, yeah. The city closes it, the gays will head straight to the media, and allegations will be made. The ACLU will get involved to represent the owner for free, maybe Lambda Legal. National media will descend on Tucson, fingers pointed at why any of the college bars up and down 4th Avenue were never closed even though they were under the same contracts. Especially if someone were stupid enough to bring up the reason for closing it as making the downtown area a more family-friendly place, given the drugs, the homeless, the fact that you can walk down there at midnight and see people throwing up on the side of the road, or working girls in the underpasses trying to make a few bucks. People say that the LGBTQ community bitches about everything. I say they have to bitch until there’s no reason not to anymore.”
“Do I even need to mention the rumors of what happens in the back rooms of that place?” Taylor asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste. And no, he really didn’t, since I’d been in those back rooms myself. As had Darren. As had a shit-ton of other people over the years. But in the last decade, there’d been no fines, no citations, no charges of lewd and lascivious conduct. People were carded with scanners that even the best fake IDs couldn’t bust. “Not exactly what we want Tucson to be known for. We want families to be able to walk down the street without having—”
“Remind me, again,” I said. “Which bar was it that got shut down for a week because of allegations of people getting drugged and raped? Surely it wasn’t Jack It. It was O’Donnell’s, that frat-boy bar. I assume it’s going on the chopping block too. You know. Because of the raping.”
“I can’t speak to that,” Taylor said. “Honestly, I really shouldn’t even be speaking about any of this. It’s all just speculation and hearsay. But, I understand your points. I rea
lly do. But I don’t see any redeeming quality that a place such as… as Jack It, has to offer. I mean, it’s not as if they—”
“But what about the children?” Darren blurted out.
I choked on my tongue and almost knocked over my water glass because what the hell was he going on about now?
“The children?” Taylor asked.
“Yes,” Darren said, glancing quickly over at me before squaring his jaw. “Those poor, defenseless children.”
“Right,” I said, praying that Darren knew where he was going with this. “The babies. The homeless babies. Addicted to crack. Needles in their arms, just wanting to chase that ever elusive high—”
He squeezed my hand really hard at that, and I knew I was going too far, but his hand felt nice and warm and big and then I couldn’t stop thinking about how they’d feel wrapped around my—
“The children are whom I’m trying to protect,” Taylor said, looking at both of us like we’d lost it. Which, to be fair, we just might have. “Though, I don’t know anything about the ones addicted to crack.”
“Right,” Darren said. “But you’re a big supporter of Casa de los Niños, right? And Angel Wings. Both of which are nonprofits geared toward low-income families. It just so happens that Jack It is also a supporter of the same nonprofits. Well, they will be. It was decided this year to do a fund drive.”
“Do what now?” I asked Darren in a low voice.
“You know, boo”—Darren looked as if he was trying very hard not to grind his teeth—“that stuff we talked about. With the thing.”