Nice and Slow. Maude E. Grider
was similar to Studio Fifty Four in New York City, highlighted by the elaborate custom-made circular bar in the center.
The customers were mostly males dressed in business attire, some with ties, some without ties, but you could sense from the atmosphere and the conversation they were a professionally minded, elite group. There was a lot of low chatter and collaboration going on everywhere.
Paul moved across the room to an alcove and entered into a large room with several gaming tables crowded with customers who were playing black jack and poker and being served drinks by waitresses dressed in outfits similar to playboy bunnies. The dealers were immaculately dressed in red and black tuxedo style outfits.
On the other side of the room was a stage with airport runway lights where women dressed in bikini type outfits were dancing to the music from a live band. As Paul moved through the club everyone there greeted him as 'Candy' and wanted to converse with him. He impatiently obliged them and stayed long enough to have two rounds of his favorite drink of Crown Royal Reserve over ice. The crowd was having a good time. He worked his way to the elevator and rode to the third floor.
The third floor looked like a typical floor in a four plus star hotel with many rooms, and a large living room area, elegantly furnished, and a reception desk. His middle-aged maître d' Beatrice was seated behind the desk reading a magazine, looking over her glasses at him as he approached her. He chatted with her and asked her how business was going.
“It's still early, honey. I'll make sure no one leaves here too drunk to drive.”
“Thanks, Auntie. I will catch up with you in the morning. I want to be alone tonight.”
Several women dressed in skimpy dancing outfits passed the living room on their way to the elevator. They saw Paul and rushed up to him. One dancer spoke to him. “Hey, Candy. We heard there was a new girl around. When do we get to show her the ropes?”
Paul shot an annoyed glance at her and was silent as his jaws tightened. “Aren't you supposed to be working?” Another dancer giggled and said “On our way, sir!” The group got on the elevator, laughing and talking.
Paul talked to Beatrice a little longer and told her he would be upstairs if she needed him. She smiled and nodded affirmatively. She didn't inquire about his new friend. She knew her nephew well enough to know she was someone special to him. No lunch date he brought here had ever received the personal attention he showed today. She knew he would tell her when the right moment came.
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