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peek of reality endeared the club owner
to her even more. The bouncers crowding around Fedya peeled Pietra off him. Gio
arrived on the scene and began apologizing as he tried to usher Pietra away.
    “Gio, stop Goddammit!
Let me say ‘hello’ to Fedya!”
    It
was like watching a parent pull a petulant child away from a rack of candy at a
five and dime , only the roles were reversed . A
temper tantrum ensued.
    “Iz okay Gio.” Fedya’s
baritone boomed, “Come here my Pietra! Hellooo.” Fedya wrapped the aged nitwit
in his bulky arms and rocked her back and forth in his hug. He beamed at her.
Gio watched, having apparently developed a twitch of his own.
    Sam saw Nikki, Fedya’s
Atlanta girlfriend, and a local politician, flanked by
bouncers, glide into VIP 1, known as the ‘Skybox’. The largest of the
rooms, it was located at the top of the staircase on the far side of the club,
and was outfitted with a private bar and bathroom. When Fedya wasn’t present,
the room was reserved for high rollers and celebrities who could afford the
hourly rate. It was the only VIP room with a door. Just outside the Skybox was
another door leading to the cold, concrete stairwell that led up to the roof
and down to a back entrance that emptied out by the dumpsters behind the
building. This passageway was casually known as ‘the red carpet,’ for obvious
reasons.
    Sam continued along the
balcony, trying to keep an eye on combover’s progress through the club. She’d
lost him. Glancing into a VIP room to her right, she saw Grace sitting with a
handsome forty-something she had seen before. Sam poked her head in.
    “Hey lovebirds.” Sam
cooed.
    “Sammy! Come sit for a
minute!” Grace looked happy and relaxed. “Drew, this is Sam. Sam, Drew.”
    After pleasantries and
some brief small talk about Drew’s periodic visits to Atlanta, a waitress
appeared to check on drinks and see if he needed a Pink Pay girl to replenish
his stack of pornographic Monopoly-style money. The pink bills were how the
club guaranteed all cash drawn on credit cards stayed in the club, unlike a
cash advance from an ATM.
    “Fedya’s here and so is
Pietra.” Sam whispered to Grace while Drew ordered another Jack Daniels. “But
more importantly, combover is here too. I need to find a bouncer or at least
get to him and see what he knows!”
    Grace’s eyes widened
slightly but her smile never faltered. “Where is he? Sam, don’t talk to him
alone! Let me come with you.”
    Sam shook her head at
Grace as she rose to leave. Bussing Drew’s cheeks lightly, she smiled and said,
“Nice to meet you Drew, take good care of baby Grace, okay?”
    Drew smiled and slipped
Sam a few pink bills with a wink and a smile.
    “Nice to meet you too.”
    Ignoring Grace’s wide-eyed
stare, Sam stepped outside the VIP room and made her way back along the balcony
toward the elevator, tucking the money into her garter.
    The DJ’s voice boomed
over the sound system “Next up on main stage is our own little Chick-a-dee from
the other side of the pond. Please welcome the one , the only ,   BIIIRRRRDIIIEEE !”
A cheer went up from the crowd of men Birdie had been sitting with. Prodigy
screamed “Smack My Bitch Up” through the speakers, causing the entire building
to thump in time with the music.
    The Bird pounced on the
stage like a force of nature, commanding the attention of anything drawing
breath. By the time Sam reached the first floor, Birdie had shimmied half way
up the pole, locked her legs around it and extended backwards, arms
outstretched into an inverted iron-cross, causing a gasp from those who hadn’t
seen this move before. Few dancers were able to elevate the art of the pole to
something straight out of Cirque du Soleil. No fear, no nets, no limit to the
money. It did, however, require a tremendous amount of strength and athleticism.
    Sam watched the edge of
the stage to see if combover — Lena’s former stalker —would
approach to tip.
    Nothing.
    One
of