The Scene (4 page)

             
“Thanks, but actually this place seems pretty classy in comparison. You should have seen the crap hole I was at earlier this evening.” I rolled my eyes in disgust.

             
“So you and your girl are club hopping tonight?” He was looking me in the eye. Most guys don’t. In reality, most don’t really even acknowledge my presence when Tatum is around. I’ve gotten used to it.

             
“You could say that.” I gave him a coy smile. See, I can flirt too, not just Tatum. “Actually, I’m gathering information for a book I'm writing.”

             
“I can only imagine what kind of book you'd be writing if you have to come here to gather information. You don't really belong here.” He’d said it twice already. I must have been standing out like a sore thumb.

             
“You know I could say the same about you. You don't really fit the theme of this place. You aren't exactly ‘dressed for success’, like the rest of these losers.” And yes, I stopped in the middle of dancing with Cyrus the Greek god to flash air quotes.

             
“Well my boss kind of owns the place so I get star treatment here.” This was the first time I had seen him not look utterly perfect. The sarcastic eye roll doesn't work for him. I wasn't sure, but I think he wasn't really happy about coming here. It was a possibility that someone was requesting he be featured here.

             
“You know, I don't really like coming here. My boss thinks his club and my career will, oh what was the phrase, 'flourish if you are featured in the hottest club in Hollywood', or something like that.” I liked the accent he threw in when imitating his boss, some kind of Irish brogue.  It's a cool accent, but he made it sound like it annoyed him even more to have to hear it all the time.

             
Damn, was I like psychic or something? Or does this guy just wear his emotions on his perfectly pressed sleeve. Or maybe on his tight, tan, wonderfully smooth chest. Down girl, wipe up the drool.

             
“So really, what's this book about? Lame rich kids with nothing better to do than watch every vampire movie known to man?” He teased.

Wow, seriously hot and cynical. My kind of man.

              I gave him the basic rundown. Dead bodies on the ground, puncture wounds, media frenzy, and next year’s best seller. Hey, a girl can dream can't she?

             
“So you came here looking for anyone who may know something? But what would these geeks know? Any occult facts they could give you could easily be found at your local video store.” The last he said with a grin that showed how funny he thought he was. Funny he wasn't, but smoking hot and utterly adorable he had down pat.

             
“Well, seeing as though vampires are as fictitious as my last diet, I'm figuring whoever’s doing this has to be some sort of poser. A wanna-be if you will. So, where else does one find a modern day Renfield than a trendy Hollywood night club with a less that cheery decor?” I said with a shrug.

             
“Have you thought about speaking to the police?”

             
“Thank you Captain Obvious! Of course I talked to the police. They don't know shit. I have a source in homicide and even he can't give me anything useful. I tried contacting the locals in Fresno and low and behold nada! Who does the hiring for these people? I mean really?” The irritation was leaking out of every pore on my body. I think it took Cyrus by surprise. The look on his face screamed bewilderment.

             
“Whoa there, breathe, darling. In through the nose, out through the mouth.” I was kind of in shock at the fact he had called me darling and more so at the fact he was touching me. Well, death grip on my shoulders like I was a 1940's damsel in distress in the middle of a freak out, but it was skin to skin. I looked him in the eye and felt an instant sense of serenity. Like when your Valium finally kicks in. I think I stared too long because he cracked a grin. Or he could have seen the drool.

             
“Sorry. I've just been a little obsessed with this thing since they hit Bakersfield, and now I'm irritated that things aren't going to plan,” I said, lost in his eyes.

             
He finally let go of my shoulders and let his hand trail to mine. Another cheesy laugh chuckled out of my mouth. 

My God, when did I revert back to high school?

             
Thinking of high school reminded me of Tatum. In the midst of my conversation with Mr. Dreamy, I'd lost track of Tatum. I did a quick scan of the dance floor, and of course she was nowhere in sight. I started getting nervous standing there without my sidekick.

             
“I need to hunt down Tatum. She's most likely schmoozing some poor sap into spending his 401k on her booze habit.” I know I can whip out the occasional joke now and then, and Lord knows I crack myself up, but this guy was going to bruise a rib laughing at my little quip.

             
“Yeah, maybe you should go rescue whatever guy she's batting her coated lashes at. I'm going to hit the head. Meet me at the bar when you find her?” He smiled softly at me.

             
“Um...er...well...ga...ba..I..pha...ya ya!”
Oh my God what is my problem?
He caught me by surprise. I never would have thought he'd want to continue our little convo. 

Generally, when I go out with Tatum, I'm the funny fat friend. I
’m definitely never the hot one. Cyrus hadn't even paid attention to her. Now don't get me wrong, I love the girl. But let's face facts here, she's hot and smart, and she has a butt load of money. She's funny as all hell and a sadistic bitch to boot.  If I were a man, I'd look past me, too. Seeing as though she's a statuesque five-foot seven blond with crystal blue eyes and pouty lips, she wins on looks alone. The male persuasion doesn't generally get tingly loins for a voluptuous, five-foot four brunette, with a Medusa fro and puke green eyes; all chock full of cynicism and an overly sarcastic sense of humor.

What is wrong with this guy?

              I tried to walk toward the bar in search of Tatum but was halted due to Cyrus' hand still firmly attached to mine.

             
Alright I'm going to be smooth this time.

             
“Hey love, can't go into the little boys’ room with you. I kind of need my hand back.” I stole one of Tatum’s signature looks and did the half-cocked-smile-look-through-the-lashes routine. He looked at me for a long time and then he kissed my hand before walking off to the bathrooms. I'm not sure which is a better view, the front or the back. Right then, I was enjoying the back.

             
I turned on my heel and headed for the bar where I was sure I'd spot Tatum. I had to bob and weave around flying capes and insanely large hair, but I finally caught sight of my dear Tatum. And to my utter amazement, she was not with a dude. Actually, she was talking to Reggie, the overly thin bartender. For a moment, I wondered if she’d switched teams, but then I realized she must be getting some sort of vital information. I boogied over and plopped down on a stool next to my girl. I wanted desperately to interrupt and spill everything about Cyrus, but I kept quiet and listened like a good little reporter.

             
“So like I was saying, I did hear something about some Goth kids braggin' about blood lust and coffins and stuff.” This from the woman tending bar.

             
“What's new? Isn't that all they talk about anyway?” I think I pissed her off a bit with that last comment.
Too fucking bad
. I had a bit of a buzz going and was beginning not to care much.

             
“Generally Sanguinarians, or those who consume blood, are lifestylers and rarely go flaunting it around. And from what I hear, these guys were quite the little posers. That's why I even heard about it in the first place. These guys were so over the top that it became kind of a joke among us.” The way she said among us gave me the heebie-jeebies.

             
“How long ago was this?” I asked.

             
“Just two nights ago, a couple came up to the bar laughing at the fledglings who were bragging about being 'for real'. They said these guys belonged at Midnight’s Dream.”  Wow, did that help to paint the picture.

             
“Did they mention who these people were?” I asked as I pulled my small spiral notebook from my purse.

             
“Three guys, just your typical vamp kids. From somewhere up north I think.” She shrugged.

             
“Fresno?” That’d be too coincidental.

             
“I dunno, maybe.” Another shrug from the skeletal shoulders.

             
“And you think I'd be interested in speaking with these posers?” I asked as I jotted down a few notes.

             
“I'm not sure. Your friend asked me if anyone new had been coming in here. Maybe someone with a serious vampire obsession. This instance is all I know of. And, yes, I think they are quite weird and definitely new to this scene. Usually a baby bat comes in and has a sort of sponsor, someone that will show them the ropes. From what I hear, these fools were attempting to strut stuff they didn't have. If I were you, I'd find out who these guys are because they’ve raised a few eyebrows around here, and a few laughs.” She stopped talking to chuckle. I guess that was funny.

             
“Do you know the couple that informed you of this? How to contact them maybe? Or anyone else who may know who these guys are or at least where I might find the little weirdoes?”

             
“Um, I'm not sure. I didn't know that couple. I mean, I have seen them here before, but I really don't know their names. They mentioned a club called, ‘Embrace’. It's a great place, much nicer and larger than this dive, but it's owned by the same guy. In fact, I'll bet you'd get a ton more useful stuff for your book there than you would here. I'd send you there but it's a private club and I really don't think either of you are, um, members.” Her voice was a bit too snippy for my taste.

             
“Oh, no? I guess we wouldn't be. Maybe that's because...”

             
“I'm a member,” said a voice from directly behind me.

Damn it
, I had the best shitty remark lined up just for her. But wait...who's a member?

              I turned to see my little Cyrus standing behind us.

             
“Oh really? And how did you come about that?” I asked curiously.

             
“Well, remember when I told you my boss owns this club? He owns that one too. Therefore, I am a member,” Cyrus said with a proud smile.

             
“If that other place is so much better than this one, why does he request you come here? Wouldn't you look better at Embrace?” The question made sense in my head.

             
“He's hoping I will draw in more clientele, I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders unattractively.

             
“So as a private club, this place can stay open all night, right?” I asked, hopeful that I was correct.

             
“Oh yeah, dusk till dawn,” he answered.

             
“Could you take us? Like...tonight?” I flashed my biggest pleading smile and the puppy dog eyes.

“Of course I can. Anything to get out of this place.” Well, he could have said anything for you
, Dylan. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life. I think I love you. Will you marry me?

      I guess I'll settle for a simple yes.

              “Getting to go with you is an awesome bonus.”

Okay. That's better
.

             
I dug in my purse for my business card. My hand crumpled the student loan bill I had jammed in there before I met with Mike. My heart sank. I was reminded for the second time in a day as to why I so desperately needed to publish my first novel. That and fame, can’t discount fame. Finally, I found a single card shoved in my wallet.

             
“Here, Reggie, if you hear anything new, if that couple, or the dork squad come back in here, give me a call. Please.”

             
“Will do.” And with that she walked away, but not before she gave Tatum the once over. And not in the
let's take this outside
kind of way
,
but in the
let's take this somewhere dark and naked
sort of way.

             
Damn Tatum, even got the ladies chasing after her.

             
“So would you like to ride with us?” I so sweetly asked the hunk attached to my arm.

             
“Why don't you ride with me? I have a car and driver out back. You two look like maybe you shouldn't be driving right now.”

             
Oh damn, I forgot I had had quite a bit of alcohol tonight. Wow, I didn't even feel drunk. Well, maybe a bit buzzed. Shit, am I acting like an ass?