Heartless Few Box Set

by MV Ellis

  “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. But um… thanks for showing me around. Don’t let me make you late for your next class. I can find the lunchroom and make my way to class after that.”

  “I. Do. Too.” Luke spoke almost too loudly, now glaring at me as though he resented having to use his voice.

  “Wha—”

  “Lunch. I have lunch now too.”

  “Oh. Okay.” This had been literally all I was capable of saying. Despite the fact that he was scowling at me, I had been stopped in my tracks by the beauty of Luke’s eyes. They were the brightest green I had ever seen, and he seemed to look into me rather than at me. That feeling, the one I’d had earlier when I’d watched him walk away, hit me with full force, leaving me almost winded. I felt something zing between us, though I wasn’t sure what. Luke showed no signs of feeling anything, except irritation at my stupidity and time-wasting. He always seemed to be waiting for me, and this time had been no different. He turned on his heel and strode purposefully away. I followed, open-mouthed and in shock.

  All these years later, and I still got the same feeling when I saw him, though now I knew to expect it and over the years had developed the poker face from hell as an occupational hazard, giving me the ability to mask my feelings. In fact, I’d learned to mask my feelings. Period. About my parents, about myself, and especially about Luke. Keeping my inner desires private, sometimes even from myself, had become a way of life and a survival move. I couldn’t afford to allow myself to think and feel what I’d suppressed. It was so heavy, and so much that I didn’t think I could carry the weight of it. On the other hand, I couldn’t burden anyone else with it, so smothering everything was the best way forward.

  I swept the thought from my mind and turned my attention back to tonight. What to think of the not-date date? What to wear? After stewing on it a while, I decided to go for the casual vibe, just like I would at any other time—black skinny jeans, ballet flats, a black spaghetti string silk cami, and my beloved distressed leather jacket. All black errrythang. Always.

  This was Luke after all. Luke who had made it clear no less than a million times over the years that despite our initial and ongoing attraction, he thought of me as the little sister he never had. Luke, Arlo’s brother. Arlo. I’d almost forgotten about Arlo; I’d been too busy thinking about seeing Luke.

  I would miss what we’d had together and what it represented, but not Arlo, per se. The truth was, despite our long-term friendship, and almost as long-term fuck-buddying, Arlo could be a bit of an ass at times—okay, most of the time. I had gotten used to his antics over the years, but if I stopped and thought about it too long, it was pretty damning. I had kept our thing going because it served a purpose in my life other than getting my rocks off in spectacular style. Otherwise, I would have and should have put a stop to it years earlier. I had figured that using sex with Arlo to take my mind off the shit I didn’t want to remember wasn’t as bad as some of the ways I could choose to help myself forget.

  Eleven

  Luke

  I hovered by the huge door, nervously looking out the peephole every so often like a mad man. I saw a taxi pull up to the curb and presumed it must be Marnie. The place was closed, and there was nothing that looked even remotely like a bar, restaurant, or any other kind of public venue in sight. There was really no real reason for anyone to come down this street if they weren’t heading here, so it was a pretty safe assumption.

  I’d purposely been vague in the message I’d sent her, just letting her know the Brooklyn address but giving no other details of what to look out for or what to expect. Not knowing what the fuck you were getting into was part of the fun and mystique of the place—just one of the things that made it so unique. Wondering if you were being led into some kind of torture chamber was an integral element of the experience.

  At best the building looked like a disused barn; at worst, it wasn’t hard to imagine it as an ex-abattoir-turned serial killer’s lair. It was tall and loomed in the darkness. The worn dark brick facade gave it an imposing air, as did the huge door at the center. It was the kind of entrance that looked like it should be on a castle, not on one of Brooklyn’s hottest and best-kept secrets.

  She didn’t get out of the cab, and for a split second, I worried she wasn’t going to. I held my nerve, not wanting to appear too anxious. As anxious as I felt. Seconds later, my phone pinged.

  Marnie: I’m here

  Luke: K

  I was being intentionally cryptic, enjoying the theater I was creating. I waited another beat before opening the small door within the massive door. I approached the cab and opened Marnie’s door, offering her my hand. She took it and stepped out onto the sidewalk, somehow ending up uncomfortably close to me while I still had her hand in mine. We both hesitated. Everything seemed to stand still, including our breath. She was the first to break the awkward silence, which seemed to be our thing.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.” I looked down at her, my mouth curled into the merest crescent. In return, she curved her perfect pout into her rare but beautiful smile. The real smile, not the one she pulled for work. The one that went all the way to her eyes. The one that almost made me forget my own name.

  “What is this place?” Her eyes sparkled with an emotion I couldn’t quite name, but I liked the way it made me feel.

  “You’ll see.” I finally released her hand.

  “You know I hate surprises, Luke.”

  I knew this, but I also knew that this was a surprise she’d enjoy, so she was going to have to suck it up until the reveal.

  “I do know, but this won’t be a surprise for much longer, and it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

  I stepped around her, trying but not really wanting to put a little space between us. Approaching the front window of the cab, I passed the driver my credit card to pay for Marnie’s ride.

  “You didn’t have to do that. It’s not like we’re on a date or anything, but thank you all the same. I appreciate it.”

  I faltered slightly, caught off guard. Why had she mentioned a date? That was the second time tonight. First in her message and now here. Coincidence? I wasn’t so sure.

  “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. No need to thank me. That’s what friends do.” A strange look passed across her face momentarily and then was gone again.

  “Come on, let’s go inside. I don’t want you to accuse me of subjecting you to a surprise for any longer than absolutely necessary.”

  Before my brain could tell my body not to be so dumb, my hand sought out hers. I froze momentarily but didn’t want to make the situation any more awkward by dropping her hand as soon as I had grabbed it, so I went with it. Not that I didn’t want to anyway—I did, but equally, I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable either. She didn’t flinch or withdraw, so I guessed she was okay with the move. I was more than okay, loving the feel of her smooth, warm palm in mine. I led her to the Trojan door and pushed it open, then ushered her inside.

  I watched Marnie take in her surroundings, open-mouthed. I didn’t blame her—it was an impressive space. It was clad from floor to double-height ceiling in reclaimed wood, and just about everything in the room was repurposed, refashioned, or otherwise recycled. I had it on good authority that the bar was made from wood that had once belonged to a Victorian-era coffin maker, and each table and chair also had its own authentic “origin” story. Low hanging beams were studded with the headlamps of ancient Fords, casting the room in murky, tainted light. It was hipster-chic on steroids.

  Even Marnie couldn’t maintain her poker face given the uniqueness of the situation.

  “Uh… I thought you said we were doing dinner and a movie?” Her shapely eyebrows shot up in a perfect arc.

  “I did, and we are.” I was enjoying this far too much and didn’t care to examine the reasons why.

  “Really? Because as far as I can see, we’re standing in an empty bar.” She had a point. It was completely empty. “What is this p
lace?”

  She looked so serious that I had to stifle a smirk. The surprised curve of her brow had given way to a tightly knotted frown. So much for planning a surprise she would actually enjoy—clearly there was no such thing.

  “Death & Taxis.”

  “What?” More scowling.

  “Death. And. Taxis.”

  “OMG. Really, Luke? Would you try to make some kind of sense please?” This was going downhill fast.

  “In New York, nothing is certain, except death and taxis. It’s a play on the whole Benjamin Franklin death and taxes thing.”

  “Yeah, I got that part. What I don’t get is what that has to do with us being in a closed bar when we were supposed to be getting something to eat and catching a movie. Care to enlighten me?”

  I wanted to enlighten her, but I had a much more pressing urge to kiss her. Hard. I bit my bottom lip both to suppress the smile tugging at it and to remind myself of the clearly marked boundary between the two of us. Not. Going. To. Happen.

  “It’s the name of the place. My friend Gus owns it. He’s funny and smart, with a quirky sense of humor, so it’s only fitting that he would give his venue an odd name.”

  “Venu—” As though on cue, Gus emerged from the shadows, almost startling Marnie out of her skin. He approached us, hand outstretched, his lips curved into a generous smile, though it was hardly visible under his thick bush of a beard. The rise of his high cheekbones and the crinkles at the corner of his bright light gray eyes gave it away, though. When he reached us, he stopped, offering his hand to Marnie who looked more than a little dubious.

  “Welcome to Death and Taxis.” Even after years of friendship, I still marveled at how good even the simplest sentence sounded when delivered in his thick Scottish brogue. He could read the ingredients list on the back of a packet of Pop Tarts, and it would sound like carefully crafted love poetry.

  “Hi. Thank you, I think?” She looked and sounded hesitant.

  “Don’t worry, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.” He laughed heartily.

  Marnie didn’t join in, instead continuing to look at Gus as though he was an ax murderer, though she still shook his hand. Having greeted me earlier, he tipped his chin slightly toward me in recognition. I smiled his way before turning my attention back to Marnie, noting that Gus still held her hand in his. Why did that make me want to snap his arm off at the wrist?

  “Nice to meet you.” He smiled broadly again before sliding his glance back to me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me she looked like a supermodel?”

  Because it’s none of your fucking business, that’s why.

  I didn’t say this, but I wanted to. Instead, I shrugged noncommittally. Being around Marnie sometimes reduced me to the shy, mumbling teenager I had been when we’d first met. I felt her warming to Gus, and again I wanted to hurt him. He smiled at her a third time, and I knew I had to find a way to wrap this whole thing up before I lost my shit.

  “So, Marns, what movie do you want to see? Gus will line it up for you. I bet I can guess, but I’ll let you tell me anyway.” I winked at her. I knew full well what she would pick. She did too.

  “Luke, you need to explain what’s going on. This is just a bar—a closed one, I guess… not a movie theater.”

  “Ah, well that’s where you’re wrong. This is indeed a bar but not just a bar. It’s also a movie house and restaurant. You’re right about one thing though—it most certainly is closed. That’s kind of the point. Death and Taxis is a private members bar, cinema, and eatery—the screening room is in the basement. It’s closed on Mondays, so I thought it would be a great time for us to hang out together, and Gussy was good enough to oblige. He’s solid, like that.” I loved the look of surprise on her face as it melted into a shy, grateful smile. I lived for that smile but saw it so rarely.

  “Wait? Really? We have this whole place to ourselves to eat, drink, and take in a movie?”

  “That’s exactly it.”

  “Wow. Why?” Again with the narrowed eyes.

  Because I know you’re having a shit time, and I can’t bear the thought of you hurting. I want to be your distraction.

  “Don’t be so suspicious. Because you’re one of my oldest friends and we don’t get to hang out half as much as I would like to, and because doing ‘normal’ things in public like catching a movie with a dear friend can turn into a total shit fight when you’re a member the Heartless Few. It’s that’s simple.” Her gaze moved to Gus who shrugged. He was there to loan me his place and cook us a meal, not give me a character reference. Marnie looked back to me.

  “Okay, I can work with that. What happens next?”

  Yes!

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I could really use a drink. Gus can make whatever you want. Then we can decide what we want to eat and what movie we want to see, then head on down to the lounge to eat, drink, and watch.”

  Gus interjected then. “What’s your poison?”

  Marnie positively beamed his way. Motherfucker.

  “Ummm… I love champagne-based cocktails. Is there anything you can do with that?”

  Gus laughed good-naturedly. “Off the top of my head, I can think of about fifty. Do you trust me to surprise you?”

  Marnie narrowed her eyes, staring at him intently, as though seriously considering whether he was trustworthy or not. We all knew she was doing no such thing but played along regardless.

  “Okay. A friend of Luke’s is automatically a friend of mine. I’m sure you can be trusted, and I know I’ll love whatever you come up with.” Was it me, or was she flirting with him? I shook the thought from my mind, sure I was imagining things. At least, I hoped I was.

  While Gus made the drinks, I led Marnie down to the theater. I wanted it to be just the two of us when she saw the room. When we got to the large heavy door, I pushed it slowly open and ushered her in ahead of me.

  Twelve

  Marnie

  Wow. Just fucking wow. I looked at Luke, my mouth gaping.

  “Wow. This place is… amazing.” I was as close to being lost for words as I ever came.

  It was seriously impressive. Like the bar upstairs, the theme for this room was definitely upcycled chic. It was nothing like any movie theater or screening room I had ever been in. The fact that it was a smaller space than most was one distinguishing characteristic, but not the main one. What really set it apart was the distinct lack of anything other than the huge screen and subtly sloped floor to denote the fact that it was a theater at all.

  The seating was an eclectic mishmash of different couches, mostly leather, some designer classics, all different, but somehow they all worked in combination. Again, recycled wood lined the walls, floor, and ceiling, and again, the dimmed lights used repurposed materials. This time huge chandeliers made from some kind of scrap metal tubing and draped with tassels the color of old movie theater curtains hung from the reclaimed wood ceilings. I fell in love with the place in an instant.

  “My God. It’s stunning, Luke.”

  “Right? It’s one of my favorite places in the city to hang.” He smiled down at me, his mouth curled into its usual sexy crescent of a smile. The one that was as much part of who he was as his emerald eyes and his strong, chiseled jaw. The one that almost made me forget my own name.

  “What? It’s your happy place, and yet I’ve never heard of it. How is that?” I felt bad, finding out something like this about him after all these years of friendship. It made me question whether I even really knew him at all. I wondered what other gems he was hiding from me.

  “Well, it’s one of New York’s best-kept secrets. Like I said, it’s members only, but what I didn’t say is that you’d have more luck tracking and tracing a bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster than finding a membership to this place. It’s strictly invite only, and even then, Gus puts people through a more rigorous selection procedure than the one to become a secret service agent.”

  “Why? How can you run a business if you don’t w
ant anyone to know it exists?” I was no expert, but it didn’t seem like the best way to build a successful venue. I thought about Arlo’s club 12:AM Mass. It was exactly the opposite—the hottest ticket in town. Everyone wanted to be there to see and be seen. I hated how Arlo crept into my mind at the most inconvenient times. I shook the thoughts away and concentrated on the here and now.

  “Well, that’s the thing. Plenty of people know it exists—that’s never going to be an issue. The bigger point is that Gus doesn’t see this place as just a business. He wants to be comfortable hanging here, and for everyone here to feel like the place is a genuine part of their social lives, so he only approves people who are a good fit in that sense.”

  “So how did you slip through the cracks?” I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Hardee ha, ha, ha, Marns. I hope you’re happy. You’ve wounded me to the core.” He gave me mock puppy dog eyes, and something in my chest jolted. I pushed the feeling aside. It was stupid. We were friends playing around, was all.

  “Gus and I were at film school together and stayed friends, even after I dropped out.”

  Ah, yes, that was his Mrs. Robinson phase. It didn’t end too well for his heart or his education—things hadn’t worked out between him and his lecturer, and he’d dropped out because he couldn’t manage school and growing band commitments. All’s well that ends well though, as that was really the start of the Heartless Few making the big time. The rest, as they say, is history.

  “He did a bunch of cool stuff in film for a few years, both directing and producing, sometimes both at the same time, and then set up this place about three years ago. It’s been killing it ever since.” He grabbed my hand, leading me further into the room.

  “Come on, let’s settle in. We can order food and get started on a movie. Where do you want to sit?”

  I chose a low, wide, and very comfortable-looking gray leather couch with metal legs. It was just begging to be sank into, which I wasted no time in doing. Luke hovered awkwardly nearby, so I patted the cushion next to me.