What We Do in the Night (Day to Night #1) - Stylo Fantome Page 0,3

led them down the hall. “Now if you'll follow me, I'll give you a tour the likes of which you've never been on ...”

She proceeded to stop and show them each room. Charice and her diamond pasties made the hoodie guy blush – his mask only covered half his face. She couldn't tell what the guy in the suit thought of everything, though. His bottom lip wasn't giving away any of his feelings.

“This shit is crazy, but I didn't see Richie in any of those rooms. He said he'd be here,” hoodie-guy said as they finally arrived in the shop at the end of the hall. She took them to a door at the back that was marked Employees Only, then she spun around to face them.

“I'm not overwhelmed,” the guy in the suit sighed. Valentine cocked up her eyebrow.

“My apologies, we aim to please,” she told him. His mask only had slits for him to see out of, so she couldn't quite see his eyes, but she got the feeling they were traveling up and down her form.

“I guess I just expected ... more of a fantasy.”

She almost laughed out loud. If he thought he could offend her, he'd come to the wrong place. Serge had once had to tackle a coked out three hundred pound man – he'd been carrying her around and threatening to bury her alive. She could handle a few insults from some preppy business guy.

“Pity. If only I knew what you were looking for ...” she sighed, glancing away from them. There was a long moment of silence. Hoodie-guy shuffled from foot to foot – he was clearly out of his element. The man in the suit stood ram rod straight, his cloak pushed back over one shoulder. Finally, he let out an annoyed sigh.

“The card, Derrick.”

“Oh shit, yeah!” hoodie-guy – apparently Derrick – gasped, and he started digging around in his pockets. Eventually he produced what she'd been waiting for – a heavy, metallic, gold card. It was actually dipped in eighteen karat gold, she knew. On the front in big, bold, black letters were the initials DVC.

DelVecchio's Caché.

Valentine plucked the card from his fingers and slid it down the front of her tight top. Again, she couldn't be positive, but she was pretty sure suit-guy's eyes followed the movement. She smirked at him, then spun around and pushed through the Employee's Only door, leading them into the cooler.

“There are rules, gentlemen,” she spoke in a brusque tone, dropping her sexy-sweet act to let them know she wasn't fucking around.

“I was told there weren't any rules here!” Derrick whined. She stopped and whirled around, giving him an arch look. He fell silent, and after a moment of staring at him, she continued.

“You can do whatever you want,” she said. “However you want. With whomever you want. As long as it's consensual, and as long as it's done with tact. Am I understood?”

She knew the man in the suit understood completely. She was actually surprised it was his first night there – the attitude he had rolling off him, he seemed like their target audience.

Derrick, on the other hand, was a fucking moron.

“So, like, if I want to do some coke off my girlfriend's ass, I can?” he asked. She gave him a strained smile.

“As long as your girlfriend gives you permission first, yes.”

“I can even fuck her in front of everyone?”

Valentine rolled her eyes and started walking down the cooler again.

“Yes, you can fuck her,” she replied. “Though let's be honest – you don't have a girlfriend. If you meet a woman here who is actually willing to sleep with you, have at it. But again, only with consent. There are no second chances at Caché, gentlemen. Fuck up once, and you're gone for good. And when I say 'gone', I don't mean you'll be politely asked to leave.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean Serge here will remove you from the premises in such a way that you won't remember you were even here – and most likely not much of anything else. Understood?” she asked again as she came to a halt in front of the large bouncer. He glared at the newcomers, a toothpick clenched between his teeth.

“You telling me this guy is gonna beat me so badly, I won't remember things?” Derrick laughed, pointing at Serge.

The toothpick was spit to the floor, then the bouncer slowly got to his feet.

“Yeah, that's exactly what she's telling you, Fucko. Got a problem