Jon steps forward for a hug. “They’re good to you here?”
He steps to the side to slap Aiden’s back. “They’re good. Fair. They pay well.”
“That’s great. How’s Becky?”
Mike and Becky have been together since way back in high school. “Holy shit, man. She’s pregnant!” His proud smile splits his face. “We’re having a baby. We found out last month.”
“That’s awesome! I’m really happy for you.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that. Hey, tell your mama Becky and I said hi.” When I nod that I will, he opens the club door. “Alright, in you go. We’re about half full now, should be at capacity within an hour or two. Enjoy yourselves and have a drink on me. Ask for Casey at the bar, she’ll hook you up. She’s good people.”
After a round of fist bumps from an eternally happy Mike, we walk through the heavy door and stop in the dark. Most of the interior is black – black leather lounges and stools, dark-stained tables, and a dark bar. 188 is a two-story club, with a mezzanine level high above, and people dancing and hanging out on both levels.
The downstairs bar runs the length of the room, with stools perched all along the front, and about half of those stools occupied with singles and couples. Five bartenders stand behind the bar, glass shelving holds all the liquor, and a mirrored wall reflects the whole club back at me.
The lighting is low, so the room isn’t dark, but it’s not light, either.
“Let’s get a drink.” Jon claps my shoulder as he passes and heads toward the bar. As a group, we follow and watch our own approach in the mirror. He flags one of the bartenders – they’re all chicks except one.
With a big smile and a small top, an energetic blonde heads over. “What can I getcha, boys?”
“Are you Casey?” Jon has to almost shout over the loud music to be heard.
Our blonde barmaid looks to her left instinctively, but catching herself, swings her gaze back to us. “Nah, I’m Lindsay. How do you know Case?”
“We don’t,” Jon answers. “But we know Mike. He told us to ask for her. Told us she’s good people.”
Her wariness transforms to an easy smile at Mike’s name. “Oh yeah, she is. She’s cool. Hey Case!”
The woman who looks up at her name stands at the end of the bar and pours a beer. She places the full glass in front of a customer, turns toward us with a curious, though not at all shy, smile, but before she gets even halfway, stops again in front of another girl.
Casey’s cute. She’s short, maybe five and a bit feet. Her bod’s tight and fills her skirt and tank out nicely. She has a short haircut.What do they call that, a pixie cut?She’s pretty. She reminds me of a tiny fairy.
But the girl she’s speaking with? She’s something else.
While Casey’s cute, this other woman is a siren;mysiren.
I can’t tell how tall she is, since she’s sitting, but her legs are long. She’s definitely taller than the fairy. A black dress fits her like a second skin, but seems to flare from her hips. The skirt sits loosely on her legs, and my fingers tingle with want to feel the creamy white flesh of her thighs.
Where Casey’s body is tight, this girl’s is a little less so. She’s not big, but she’s bigger than Casey. She looks good.
Long, wavy, dirty-blonde hair that stretches down past her shoulder blades. Large eyes, probably larger than normal, but they suit her.
Casey speaks quickly and squeezes her friend’s hand, then removing it with a soft smile, she turns and heads toward us. She’s not shy at all, she doesn’t glance away when she’s caught checking us out. She simply smiles and drags her eyes over each of us slowly.
Brave little thing. I like her.
She stops beside Lindsay with questioning eyes. “What’s up?”
“These guys asked for you.” Lindsay shrugs. “I guess they think you can pull a beer better than I can.” At the call of another customer, she sends us a wink and walks away.
Oops.
“Don’t worry, Lindsay’s cool.” Casey answers my unspoken thoughts. “What can I get you boys?”
“Three beers.” Aiden turns to Jim. “What do you want?”
“Soda, thanks.”