James was about to leave a club downtown, with a random socialite he had picked up using only half his capacity of wit and charm, when he got the phone call. It was from a random number and he briefly considered not answering when he realized that was not the type of person he was. Curiosity got the better of him, and he stepped away from his would be conquest to take it in private.
The conversation was brief, and he was told that Matt was wasted at some cabaret club downtown that served alcohol and half-naked women to high-profile clients. He knew the club well and had been enough times for the people who worked there to know just how important he was. Or rather, his family. His name. Hartwell could get you into nearly any club, restaurant or hotel - no matter how exclusive. People knew that the Hartwells had money and power.
So after hanging up, and vaguely gesturing to the woman he was about to take back to his apartment that he had to go, he jumped into his vehicle and sped off to the other side of town. She said she would be waiting out the front, standing in a red trench coat waiting for him to help him get inside. Which made him laugh, but he didnât correct her, because he had been let inside many times before without hesitation.
He parked near the alley close to the back of the club, and making sure he had his cigarettes before exiting his vehicle. Slamming his car door because he was slightly pissed off he couldnât get his end away this Saturday night, he buttoned the jacket of his perfectly tailored suit. It was easy to spot the girl in the red trench coat with blonde hair, despite the amount of people that littered the pavement outside the Moulin Rouge themed club. Â He walked up to her, studying her demeanor as she stood with her shoulders pulled forward and eyes glancing at her surroundings with simultaneous curiosity and disdain. He came to stand in front of her, towering over her short figure, even in her heels. He noticed the odd gaze on his figure from the random high-clientele that littered the entrance.
She stumbled over her words slightly, and he watched as it seemed his mere presence made it hard for her to swallow. He knew he was a rather intimidating man; smart, stoic and completely self-assured in his almost limitless capabilities. However, still, some reactions he received pleasantly surprised him. He nodded and gestured to the entrance, âAfter you then, Felicity.â
They cut the line with no problem, and walked up to the big, burly man who did security at the front door. James recognized the man from the other times he had been there, and as he neared the doors opened without a hitch. His senses were assaulted, loud music, people conversing, and flashing colorful lights and the smell of cigars and alcohol. The large club was completely decked out in 1920âs style decor, half naked women danced, served drinks and talked to the men sitting in different seating areas. He wondered what exactly it was she did here, and why on earth she was helping his brother.
He turned to look down at Felicity, âThe back room?â His eyebrow raised slightly, ready for her to continue to lead the way.
âFollow me.â, she yelled over the deafening sounds of music and found the attempt utterly futile, because her voice, never particularly loud in the first place, got engulfed in the noise. She had to settle for an alternative then, and so she looked up to him and nodded, as if to gesture that he follow her, and started in the general direction of the back room. The club wasnât crowded, not at all, every client in his own separe, in his own little corner of paradise - but at that moment, Feli wished it was. There was a sense of anonymity that the crowd offered, Fitzgerald was right to claim that, and now Feli had to move across the entire length of the club with her head bent low, hoping that no one would recognise and call her over.Â
But nothing came. No one called her name, and no one paid attention, and somehow it seemed to her that she had the man walking beside her to thank for that. Whatever it was, whoever he was - it had an effect on people, something more than the confidence he exuded, and Feli wondered what it was a second before she reminded herself that this was probably a nuisance for him, and that she should keep her mouth shut, and get it over with quickly. After all, that kind of fit her job description here. âIâm sorry I called you like that...â, she spoke once they entered a hall and heavy door closed behind them, her voice slightly raised because the silence here was stark in contrast to the loud music out there. A slight shade of pink tainted her cheeks at that mishap and she had to clear her throat before continuing, âShaun gave me the number, just in case, but he never told me who was on the other end. Uh... I tried calling him, but his phone is turned off and Matt...â, she exhaled lightly, âIâm sorry I ruined your night.â Obviously, judging by the manâs attire, he had probably been having a good time before this whole thing went down, and Feli couldnât help the guilt simmering at the back of her mind.Â
She gestured towards the second door to the left, which opened to reveal a sort of common room, full of mirrors and make-up tables and all sorts of colours in form of silk and lace and satin. Wherever one turned around here, a female presence was revealed to him - well, everywhere save for the small corner at the back, that had its own little lamp to light piles upon piles of scattered papers and colourful notes and drawings depicting the human body, and one monstrous book that, Feli knew well, read âInternal Medicineâ at its front. âForgive the mess.â, she said vaguely, and decided not to dwell on that too much because she knew the man didnât care, and sheâd just get embarrassed by the mess she left behind in her frenzied study session. Instead, she focused her attention to Matt, who sat limp on sofa there, head lulled to the side, and expression blank and painless - that was something at least, considering he had a pretty nasty cut across his cheekbone which still bled a little (Feli stopped the bleeding before) and had skin around it slowly turning a fine shade of blue. âIt wasnât his fault. Iâm not sure what happened, but they told me some random guy punched him - they werenât even talking before that. Itâs just that he uh... he was pretty out of it before all that, so the punch kind of finished him off. I know it wasnât his fault. No matter how drunk, Mr. Hartwell is never aggressive, not to any other client and especially not to us girls.â
Feli moved across the room as she spoke, in the process taking off the blonde wig to let curls of her brown hair scatter across he shoulders. She didnât bother taking off the trench coat, however, no matter how warm it was inside - she hadnât had the time to change from her work clothes, and certainly did not want to be seen that way. âHeâs responsive, donât worry, itâs not a concussion, just a nasty cut and way too much alcohol. Heâll wake up when the system clears up a bit.â, lowering herself next to Matt on the sofa, she gently raised his chin and touched the cut with tips of her fingers, lightly and with all the compassionate care of a doctor in training. Across her features there appeared a small frown, as if she could feel the pain Matt couldnât due to excessive amounts of alcohol in his system. Her eyes moved to the man then, first time since they came in, and she looked rather solemn,âLook I know how this looks... with where I work and all. And I know I donât seem capable.â, she looked down for a second, as if looking for the courage to continue, âBut I promise you, I have medical training, and I know what Iâm doing. I can patch him up now, and you can take him home. Thatâs how Shaun usually handles things. But if you donât want that, you can take him right away too, and go to the hospital with him. Itâs just that, knowing how the system works, theyâre going to ask questions. A lot of them. So... what do you say?â
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