Knock it Down

“Hey, Beryl, isn’t it about time for you to collect yo–who are you?”

“Er-”

I interrupted Antony, shooting Christian a look, “Can’t you knock? I’m with a client!”

“But you’re closed.”

“Shhh! Give me a minute to finish.” Geeze, now I had to cut my time with Mr. F-I-N-E short… thanks a lot, Christian.

“I guess that’s pretty much all I need for now, Mr. Vega-”

“Please, call me Antony.”

I couldn’t stop my lips from forming into a goofy smile, “Okay, Antony. I’ll call you tomorrow evening and we’ll set up a time for me to come over and see this for myself.”

“Thank you very much for your time, Miss. Cross.”

“Beryl. Just Beryl. Miss. Cross makes me feel old.”

He smiled.

I heard Christian make a comment under his breath as I watched, rather intently, Antony leave. Once he was gone, I turned to my vampy savior and gave him quite the look.

“Haven’t you ever heard about client confidentiality?!”

He rolled his eyes.

“Pardon me for interrupting ‘Pretty Boy’ time, but I figured you’d want to know that Quinn got so drunk she passed out on the bar. You’re lucky Bobby knows to keep an eye on her or she’d be out with some random male doing who-knows-what.”

“She’s an adult, she can do as she likes!”

He gave me a look, “Honestly, Beryl… your selfishness amazes me more and more everyday.”

“Oh, sure, start with the insults!” I huffed. I wasn’t selfish! “You know what, I’m not even going to argue with you tonight, Christian. Call me what you like! It doesn’t matter–I’m entirely too happy to care.”

I turned on heel and walked out the door. He followed, but I heard him grumbling again.

As we turned towards the club, I saw a shadowy figure waiting for us. Christian saw it, too, and our paced slowed. As we drew nearer, I could make out what was illuminated by the lights from inside the club. It was him–Creepy Guy! And he was looking expectantly at Christian.

For once I was actually glad Christian had come over to bug me. I did NOT want to meet Creepy guy in the dark ever again.

“What the hell do you want?” Christian spat.

“Melissande wants to see you.” He replied, ignoring Christian’s initial hostility, “She’s waiting inside.”

I saw Christian ball his fists at his sides and couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t freaking out. Didn’t he say they weren’t friends? Why was Creepy Guy acting like they knew one another? And who the hell is Melissande?

“Beryl, stay here. I’ll have Bobby call you a cab and bring Quinn out.”

“But-”

He ignored my protest and kept walking. Creepy Guy lingered behind, looking at me. I swallowed hard.

“You’re looking well, Beryl.” He said before turning to join Christian.

My mind boggled from all the excitement of the evening, I couldn’t even begin to reason what had just happened. So I didn’t! Instead, I thought about my newest (and incredibly SMOKIN’ HOT!) client. Finish the case and them, bam! Hit’em with the old vampy voodoo.

Oh yeah. Mr. F-I-N-E won’t know what hit’em.