I can’t take on this many responsibilities. I’m gonna break.
My eyes shift between them both, and instead of blowing up, I smile, stick out my hand, shake Jack’s firmly, then agree.
Jack and I scout out this seedy bar in Yakuza territory for the rest of the day. Apparently, some Russians gather there, and if we can keep a low profile, we might be able to interrogate the bartenders without causing a scene. We wait around for what feels like hours, well past the time I’m meant to be home for dinner. Don’t know why the fuck I care. I need to keep my distance from Stella if our plan has any chance of succeeding because all I want to do is fuck her every time I’m near her now.
“Do you have a drink?” Jack breaks our short-lived silence that I was beginning to enjoy. He really knows how to talk your ear off. I look down at my whiskey with tensed brows.
“Do you have eyes?”
“You always order whiskey, then?” He pouts his lips to the side.
“I’m not like Vince, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not so pretentious that I have to have my own special drink. As long as it’s decently priced, it usually does the trick.” His eyes twitch up in response as the bartender comes over to our corner of the bar top.
“Boys, I’m close to closing the shop up. Need a refill?” His wispy peppered beard moves with his jaw as he speaks.
“Actually, I have a question about your usuals.” The man leans against the counter, intrigued.
“My friend and I,”
“Not his friend.”
“We were wondering if you’ve ever seen a red-head. Tall, muscular—“
“Look like a Ken doll?” The bartender asks, eyes squinting.
“I think that’s the one!” Jack perks up.
“Yeah, I’ve seen him.”
“How often does he come here?”
“Mmm, I couldn’t say. He’s usually with a very particular company. Odessa… I think it is….” Jack nods, typing something up in his notes.
“I can’t say much, though--“
“Not a problem, man. We were just curious. Was an old buddy of this guy.” Jack snakes an arm around my shoulder and shakes me around. I want to smack him off me, but I fight the urge. The man looks between us for a second, and Jack throws some cash on the bar before sliding off the barstool onto the creaky wood floors.
“Thank you!” He waves for me to come, and I throw some cash down as well, give him a nod that’s reciprocated, and we step out into the cold evening air.
“This is good.” Jack pulls out his phone and types some more notes. “Now, we can call it a night.” The thought of having to go back and see Stella is really not alluring, it's frightening, and I can’t think about it anymore.
“Okay, well, I’m not done for the night.” I cross to my car without saying anything else, security waiting inside it.
“Wait!” Jack runs after me.
“Where are you headed?”
“Probably that club off Main.” He looks like he’s considering it, and I’m not certain why because I didn’t invite him.
“Okay, I’ll go!” He hops into the car as I cock my head. Who the fuck does this guy think he is?
We drive to the club, which I ask Axel, my second in command, to take me to– I guess, take us to. I let out a breath of annoyance as my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Vince says: “Don’t forget that write-up for the new plot we’re discussing on Wednesday.” Shit. I didn’t even look at the criteria for the contracts. I make a note of it to check on.
My head is beginning to ache from the stresses of everything I’m taking on. I’m not sure what to do about the growing swell in my chest assigned to the complicated unraveling of new emotions I’d rather not experience, all pointed at Stella Lombardi.
I really need this club. Maybe I can manage to at least flirt with someone to get her off my mind. A few more drinks, and I’ll be in a better headspace. We arrive at about midnight; there’s no line for someone like me, so I head to the front, Jack on my ankles like a kid with a cart in the grocery store.