Visage was all set to be a hub at which customers could fill a number of different needs, ranging from the simplistic - drinks, music, chatter - to the more…niche. Some of his dancers did only that. They danced and entertained. Others catered to more specific needs and higher paying clientele. Roman had VIP rooms and a dark room for them. They paid well and he took a large cut for himself before passing the rest on to the employee who’d taken care of them. A sizeable sum was still going into their pocket. Roman might have been a greedy man (he was) but he knew that he’d make more by retaining the people who did their jobs and didn’t get in his way. That meant paying them well.
He tended to demand loyalty in return, and one of his favorite dancers was already withholding that from him. Thierry had a very specific clientele that favored him even more than Roman did, and they all had deep pockets. That should have been more than enough to make Visage his only home, but Roman had learned it wasn’t the case.
After last call, once all the VIP rooms had been emptied and the last customers had left, he had one of his men fetch the boy and send him to Roman’s office. He was drinking when he arrived. It was one of the bottles of wine he reserved for himself and that never would have touched the bar.
“Leave,” he told the man who’d brought Thierry in and sat there staring with unblinking eyes until he had gone. Only then did he gesture for Thierry to sit across from him.
Most of Thierry’s choices stemmed from the need to solidify what could become a rather precarious position for him. When he’d accepted the job at Visage, he’d been well aware of who Roman Sionis was, and knew that he wasn’t signing the every day contract. Still, it was one he’d read closely. There was nothing in it that forbade him from seeking other employment, although plenty of vague terms and conditions existed in the contract itself. Accepting another position at Opulence didn’t exactly seem like a conflict of interest. It wasn’t as if his scope of duties were nearly the same. That being said, he didn’t make as much money there as he did at Visage; he’d accepted the position with one motivation alone: insurance. There was no telling how solid or long-term his situation was, especially knowing that Black Mask wasn’t exactly on the path to reformation. If something were to happen to the club, or to him, then he needed his foot in another door.
At some point he knew Roman would find out about it. That was already on his mind when he was called to his office. The location made it clear that this was going to be a formal meeting.
Immediately he could tell that he’d been drinking, but he didn’t know how much. Thierry sat across from Roman when he gestured, his expression impossible to read, but he showed no fear or wariness. That didn’t mean his heartbeat didn’t pick up just a little as he studied him, scrutinizing what he could of Roman in an attempt to gauge his mood.
He could ask what was wrong, but he made a clear choice by not speaking first. Roman was the type of man who liked to control the conversation, where it went and how it happened, and he was willing to let him take the lead. There was also safety in silence. Thierry could speculate, but he didn’t really know why he was there. He wasn’t going to accidentally reveal additional information.
