glitter gulch lounge, a private room, late with @cag3dfate
It was always risky getting into the Cats' territory, but never impossible. In his meetings with Naomie he had originally thought about having her walk into Vitelli territory instead, could come and go unscathed but then there was the question of her safety when she returned, eyes everywhere. They would eventually put the pieces together; she was a rat, no better than the rest of them, selling information for protection and self interest, even if it were only out of love for her father. She was playing the game the same as the rest of them, something he can respect but only because he's not the one being crossed, instead the one who benefits from her lack of loyalty.
So, he found himself here, snuck into the back door of the Glitter Gulch under the strobing lights and pumping music; he'd been here before, a few times but never for long, unsavory meetings, past negotiations with the Cats' themselves, inconspicuous in leather booths surrounded by the smell of perfume and sweat and desperation. Clubs like this where never his scene, not somewhere he liked being nor somewhere he liked being seen.
He sits in the back room, muffled music through the door, reserved for private dances, a casual posture, relaxed into the seat with a cigarette between his fingers, lingering smoke. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting, an appointment set, though he understands the consequences of her being at work can complicate things. It doesn’t take much longer for the door to open, dark eyes centered on her immediately, a lack of harshness to his tone despite the words he chooses, carefully flat intonation when he says, “Nice of you to join me, Fletcher.”