Double Bind by Karen Bell

Author:Karen Bell [Bell, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Karen J. Bell
Published: 2015-01-22T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Men were cramming in and spilling out. There was even a small queue down the road and Mila’s stomach clenched with nerves as she got out of the taxi to a chorus of wolf whistles and comments. The security guy tried to settle the crowd and quickly ushered her over.

‘You’re not a regular; just trying out tonight?’ he yelled. Mila nodded in reply over the noise.

‘There’s a stage door around the back, for next time.’ He picked up his walkie-talkie. ‘Sending in a newbie through the front. Is the boss in?’

‘Copy that. Sure is, send her in. I’ll send a hostess to meet her at reception.’

Mila was shown inside, where more men were checking in coats and briefcases before being escorted further into the club beyond Mila’s line of vision. The venue had been unassuming from the street; little more than a hole in the wall really. The interiors by contrast were straight out of a film set, circa 1950s glam Hollywood: velvet papered walls, gold, marble and mahogany joinery and fretwork, plush carpets printed in fleur de lys designs and the most sumptuous and expensive looking lounges Mila had ever seen. From where she waited, Mila could see a gentleman’s smoking room. Through the pall of smoke, she could see topless girls delivering trays of drinks to suited men of varied ages. They sat in small clusters of tub chairs around marble coffee tables enjoying the attention of criminally young waitresses. A sultry looking pianist with a husky voice oozed sex appeal as she crooned out a K.D. Lang song. Keep smoking thought Mila, it can only improve those vocals. The room had its own bar, intimately lit with concealed LED strips– a sparkling curved wall of wines and spirits, all top shelf varieties judging by their stylized bottles, as well as crystal glassware of all descriptions shimmering in open glass cabinets. Mila pitied the cleaners whose job it would be to remove the nicotine and tar grime that must accumulate each day.

Just then, she was greeted by a hostess who gave her the once-over. ‘Follow me,’ she said in a fashion as bored as if Mila was the tenth Marilyn Monroe look-alike she’d seen that evening.

Luckily she’s not the one I’m trying to impress thought Mila as she followed Miss silver G-string, who was now sauntering down the hallway before her. No cellulite, no surprise. Mila noted dryly.

‘Mr Arnett has asked me to show you to a private room, so we can go through the main theatre if you’d like. Have you been here before, seen any of the shows?’

‘No, but can we? I’d like to be a bit prepared.’

‘What music have you brought? Disc or iPod? The dock is playing up in the Casablanca Room.’

It was a passing comment but it stopped Mila in her tracks. How could you have overlooked that one? She thought with horror. The most important thing.

‘Music? I-I didn’t bring my own. I was called in on short notice this afternoon and it was all I could do to get an outfit together.

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