A trio of males were next, each of them showing the card with the signature gold emblem he’d designed himself. Subsequently, one of his regulars arrived, a human well into her seventies, who used to be companion to a vampire who ascended recently. It seemed Rhemy’s place had become her second home, with the practically limitless wealth she had access to.
One after another, the same faces, the usual crowd. A preference. New faces created a thread of paranoia, even though he did his best to vet his members-only jazz and gambling club, some were approved by his manager, and some by the band, so he didn’t know every face.
He finished his drink and sat back in the chair, linking his fingers behind his head. For a few minutes, the flow of patrons came to a stop.
How long did it take Ernest to bring a few chairs inside?
Just then, the front door swung open once again.
A woman. Alone.
She walked halfway through with a hesitant manner, turning back to speak to his security guard. A hand ushered her forward and pointed to the camera.
Rhemy’s brows slanted down.
The woman stepped forward, then raised her face to the camera.
Hello. Rhemy slowly untwined his hands and came forward, spellbound.
A new member? A quite lovely new one for that matter.
He leaned in, inches from the screen, memorizing her face. For a moment, it felt as though she was looking right into his eyes, too.
She plucked a card from inside her tank top and held it up.
He raised a brow. That was an all-access card, for both clubs, issued only to his high-paying customers. How did she get one? He would remember her.
She turned her head and spoke to whoever was behind her, seemingly frustrated at the length of time it was taking for her to be buzzed through.
Though he would’ve never granted entry to anyone he didn’t know with that type of card, he let her through of out sheer curiosity. Was she the girlfriend of one of his customers? Snapping out of it, he pressed the buzzer, never taking his eyes of the monitor. His gaze moved from screen to screen, arrested, as she walked in, passed by the hall camera, and turned for the jazz club.
Rhemy sprung from his chair and watched her progress to the next set of surveillance cameras. He leaned over his employee’s shoulder. It didn’t appear as though she was there for the music and drinks, her head moving around as though she was looking for someone.
Who?
He shuffled to the next monitor, then the next, tracking her.
His employees glanced up at him with perplexed faces.
“What is it, boss?” asked Johnny.
She stood out by her attire alone. A black tank top and figure-loving pants. An edgy assemble, in contrast to her pretty, long waves of hair. Was she human, fairy, vampire? Hard to tell, even with his expensive, top-of-the-line equipment. He had to get close to know, but maybe he could find out who she was first.
He pointed. “Do you recognize her?” he asked Chet, who was handling the cameras that faced the main bar.
Chet shook his head. “Never seen her before.”
Hank pushed back from his station and peered at the screen. “Me either.”
Two of his other security people took their turns to look, but both had the same answer.
Ernest returned and Rhemy grabbed his shoulder before he could slip by. Ernest had a gift for faces, hence why he was in charge of the entrance. If she’d been here before, he’d know. Rhemy pointed. “Who is she, Ern?”
The man’s puffy eyes squinted as he stared. “Uh...” He closed his lips, let the air fill his cheeks, then shook his head. “Don’t know who she is. She’s cute though.”
Cute? She was levels above that.
He let the man get back to his job, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth.
Looked like he’d have to find out the old fashioned way.
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