police. Would the video still get thrown out?”
James downed his third shot and let out another bitter laugh. “No, see. That’s the crazy thing. That’s probable cause. Some average anybody stumbles into our evidence by accident, we can use that to get a warrant and go in and tear the place apart.”
Even after their marathon fucking session, when James left, Xavier went to the basement and did a half hour on the bars, and another half hour with weights. He wanted to be sure to get a decent nights’ sleep, and not lie awake until morning in anticipation of getting back into the club the next night.
It was a fucking pain in the ass, trying to get his hands on even one fucking coaster. And he was annoyed at himself for not realizing their significance sooner. Any normal bar, the coasters are lying around everywhere, on the bar, on the tables. But here they were hoarded by the servers like priceless jewels, fanned out for display just once each time a new client or group of clients was seated. Connie and her colleagues hovered vigilantly until each customer had made his selection, setting the chosen coasters on her tray and tucking the rejects back in the small sparkly purse hanging at her side. When Carson had the drinks ready, she’d whisk everything back to the table, and the coasters would linger, obscured under tumblers, pilsners and martini glasses until the customers had had their fun, and Connie collected the coasters as carefully as she’d brought them forth for circumspect perusal.
Xavier couldn’t get close enough to get a good look at the coasters. Even when they were on the tables, most of the time they were shielded by the customers’ drinks, and he was supposed to hang back discreetly in the shadows, seeing but unseen, not getting in the clients’ faces.
By pure luck, during his next shift, he got a chance near the end of the night. Natalie came up to the bar with a tray full of empties and gave Carson the table’s drink order when Xavier happened to be there on his break. Not noticing one of the coasters had sealed itself against the wet bottom of one of the glasses, Natalie abandoned her tray while Carson made the drinks and she attended to another table. When Carson picked up the glass, he tossed the coaster back onto the tray.
Except that it was made of plastic or lucite, it reminded Xavier of those cheesy round novelty playing cards. A yellow circle with a full-body shot of a naked woman—or more accurately, a naked girl—posing provocatively, but not lewdly. Affecting boredom, Xavier picked up the coaster and flipped it over to see the back. Same girl. Different pose.
“ Shit,” Natalie said, yanking the coaster out of Xavier’s hand. “Brian’s going to fire me if he sees you playing with that.”
Xavier laughed. “Fire you? Over a coaster?”
“Hey. My guy at seven’s paying a grand for this coaster. If you want to drop a grand on a plastic disk with a naked chick on it, you can have one of your very own.”
She loaded up her tray and hustled off.
If a typical client had shown up more than half an hour late for their appointment, Xavier would have told them to go fuck themselves. But since there was a chance he could milk a drop or two of useful information from her, he greeted Connie with a flirtatious smile, and brought her into his alcove.
“ Fuck if I know what the big deal is with those stupid coasters,” Connie said, voice tight with pain as a cherry blossom flowered across her hip under the tip of his needle. “You’d think they were minted from pure gold, with how anal Brian is about them.”
“ Do the customers seriously pay a thousand dollars for them?”
Connie laughed, then sucked her breath between her teeth as he started working over her hip bone.
“They’re not really paying for the coaster. I mean, they don’t even get to keep it. They’re really paying for the art.”
“ I’m in the wrong
James downed his third shot and let out another bitter laugh. “No, see. That’s the crazy thing. That’s probable cause. Some average anybody stumbles into our evidence by accident, we can use that to get a warrant and go in and tear the place apart.”
Even after their marathon fucking session, when James left, Xavier went to the basement and did a half hour on the bars, and another half hour with weights. He wanted to be sure to get a decent nights’ sleep, and not lie awake until morning in anticipation of getting back into the club the next night.
It was a fucking pain in the ass, trying to get his hands on even one fucking coaster. And he was annoyed at himself for not realizing their significance sooner. Any normal bar, the coasters are lying around everywhere, on the bar, on the tables. But here they were hoarded by the servers like priceless jewels, fanned out for display just once each time a new client or group of clients was seated. Connie and her colleagues hovered vigilantly until each customer had made his selection, setting the chosen coasters on her tray and tucking the rejects back in the small sparkly purse hanging at her side. When Carson had the drinks ready, she’d whisk everything back to the table, and the coasters would linger, obscured under tumblers, pilsners and martini glasses until the customers had had their fun, and Connie collected the coasters as carefully as she’d brought them forth for circumspect perusal.
Xavier couldn’t get close enough to get a good look at the coasters. Even when they were on the tables, most of the time they were shielded by the customers’ drinks, and he was supposed to hang back discreetly in the shadows, seeing but unseen, not getting in the clients’ faces.
By pure luck, during his next shift, he got a chance near the end of the night. Natalie came up to the bar with a tray full of empties and gave Carson the table’s drink order when Xavier happened to be there on his break. Not noticing one of the coasters had sealed itself against the wet bottom of one of the glasses, Natalie abandoned her tray while Carson made the drinks and she attended to another table. When Carson picked up the glass, he tossed the coaster back onto the tray.
Except that it was made of plastic or lucite, it reminded Xavier of those cheesy round novelty playing cards. A yellow circle with a full-body shot of a naked woman—or more accurately, a naked girl—posing provocatively, but not lewdly. Affecting boredom, Xavier picked up the coaster and flipped it over to see the back. Same girl. Different pose.
“ Shit,” Natalie said, yanking the coaster out of Xavier’s hand. “Brian’s going to fire me if he sees you playing with that.”
Xavier laughed. “Fire you? Over a coaster?”
“Hey. My guy at seven’s paying a grand for this coaster. If you want to drop a grand on a plastic disk with a naked chick on it, you can have one of your very own.”
She loaded up her tray and hustled off.
If a typical client had shown up more than half an hour late for their appointment, Xavier would have told them to go fuck themselves. But since there was a chance he could milk a drop or two of useful information from her, he greeted Connie with a flirtatious smile, and brought her into his alcove.
“ Fuck if I know what the big deal is with those stupid coasters,” Connie said, voice tight with pain as a cherry blossom flowered across her hip under the tip of his needle. “You’d think they were minted from pure gold, with how anal Brian is about them.”
“ Do the customers seriously pay a thousand dollars for them?”
Connie laughed, then sucked her breath between her teeth as he started working over her hip bone.
“They’re not really paying for the coaster. I mean, they don’t even get to keep it. They’re really paying for the art.”
“ I’m in the wrong
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