Paying The Rent Ch. 04

"Not much doubt about that," said the older man, "knew it from the first moment she came through the door. Thought to myself - 'now that is a sweet piece of tail'. The sort of girl we needing down the club. Most of our guys are hard-working men. They finish up after hours busting their backsides fixing up the roads, or breaking down seized engines, or riding a fucking desk catering to stuck-up privileged white assholes. After hours of that shit they needing a place to rest their bones, watch the game, have a sweet piece of eye-candy bring them their beers and chow. Seeing our girl here, especially that pretty smile, gonna make a man feel real good. Knew she was having my vote from the first moment I saw her." Joshua nodded and looked back to Theo.

"I'll confess Ms Goose that you had the job from the moment you applied." Theo gave her that warm genuine smile of his again. "Our mutual friend gave you a glowing referral." His smile was bright against the dark skin-tone of his handsome, well-proportioned features. Every movement held a languid grace and radiated the confidence of a man used to being in charge. His intelligent deep brown eyes twinkled as he observed her.

Theo was quite the eye-candy himself but Rachel had been more interested in what he had said. He had to be talking about Lavon. It seemed that Lavon was helping her out after all. The thought gave her a ridiculous, a foolish, amount of pleasure. She tried to drive such thoughts out of her mind. She was here on business, serious business.

"However - we need to go through the formalities. Rachel - you strike me as a smart girl so tell me whether we match up to your expectations regarding the BMW Club before you came here today."

She remembered her assumptions. It was safe to say that they had not proved accurate. She shook her head.

Theo just nodded and Rachel knew that he wanted details.

"I was expecting an exclusive country club sort of a thing - I admit that I hadn't pictured too many African-Americans being involved. I'm sorry."

Joshua chuckled, Louise smiled her brilliant smile, Theo just nodded again.

"Well now - I can tell you the BMW is extremely exclusive if not quite a country club! My friend Marvin does some legal work for us and assists with tiresome chores like those initial interviews."

'The Lizard', thought Rachel.

"But otherwise," Theo continued, "the BMW might be described as a case of positive discrimination. We are an exclusive gentleman's club - our membership is 100% male and 100% African-American. To be blunt and perhaps more accurate - our members are 100% Black. We provide an atmosphere where our members can enjoy themselves away from home and without any of the racist nonsense that might occur with some of our less enlightened white 'friends'. Where a brotha can relax and have a little fun at the end of a hard day. We do, of course, employ white staff - to do otherwise would be discriminatory. So tell me Rachel," his eyes met hers, "would you have a problem working in such an establishment?"

His eyes were amazing. Pools of deep-brown that seemed to draw you in. However, Rachel didn't need to be bewitched by them. She hadn't grown up around too many African-Americans but she had certainly never had that sort of an issue. She had always known African-Americans could be as good, or as bad, as anyone else. It was only a matter of skin color after all - people were basically all the same. That was how she had felt before she had met Lavon Crawston. Now she understood that might not necessarily be true - at least for her. Either way she had no trouble shaking her head and assuring Theo that it was not a problem.

There was that smile again, "At our Club we like our members to feel privileged," he continued, "so our servers, bar workers, all our staff are attractive in both appearance and personality. They also need to have, how can I put it, a certain style to them. They are not your usual server - there has to be that certain something about them that suggests they would be more used to dining at the finest restaurants rather than serving tables at our little dive."

"A touch of class - which this one has most surely got." That was from Joshua. "See the outfit she came in - looked damn fine."

Rachel felt the blood at her cheeks. Hoped that her reaction wasn't too obvious. She needed this job! It might be humiliating to have to get a job off the back of a pretty face but pride didn't put food in their mouths or keep the heating on come Winter.

"I think we could take that aspect as a given. Dispense with any further formalities." Theo was still smiling - was he rescuing her from her blushes or had he and Joshua been enjoying them.

"We, or course, have rules of behaviour for our members and they are enforced strictly but I should say that we are a club for men and our men can get a little, er, boisterous. Do you think you can handle a table-full of Black men like that with charm and discretion?"

Not an issue that had regularly come up in Rachel's life but 'no' didn't seem to be an option and so she nodded cautiously.

"Don't worry - Louise here will show you the tricks of the trade and keep an eye on you as you start out. We also have security if anyone gets too far out of line . That's not regular but mix men and beer and well...." He gave an expressive hand gesture. "Generally nothing more serious than a little fight now and then - nothing to concern you. Don't worry - the Club looks after its girls."

Rachel knew the three of them were all watching her again, sounding her out. Certainly it was very clear that her original guess of an elitist stuffy country club full of deep leather arm chairs had been very wide of the mark. However, that didn't really matter either way. Money was money and she needed this job very badly.

It was as if Theo could read her mind. "Money," he said. "I'm guessing your life's dream isn't to be a server and so money is your motivation. You also strike me as an intelligent young woman, certainly well educated. I understand you know our city a little - we are based up in Fillmore Heights. You know it?"

She'd never been to Fillmore Heights but she had certainly heard about it. Her old college base, H-Town as they called it, was like any other city. There were good neighborhoods and there were not so good neighborhoods. Then there were places you were warned off - either because they just weren't for you or because they were war zones in miniature. The kind of places where patrol cars went in pairs - when they couldn't avoid going there at all. Fillmore Heights wasn't quite in the last category but there was no reason for college students to go there. It was pretty much 100% African-American and it was hard-scrabble. Not what they called a ghetto but a place that looked after itself - because no-one else was going to do it. White folks up there were either Police/Government or dumb-asses trying to score. The former were shunned and the latter, by all accounts, generally ended up robbed and sent home strongly persuaded not to return.

It seemed, however, that there was a third category of white folks up in Fillmore Heights. The employees of the BMW Club. A place where blue-collar men went to 'relax' and 'blow off steam' at the end of a hard day. Throw in the uniform and she could get an idea of what she might be getting into here. Theo and Louise had both given reassurances and she was inclined to believe them but it was telling that they had felt it necessary to give those reassurances in the first place,

"Money," repeated Theo. He looked down at some papers in front of him. "Marvin made me some notes on your situation. I note your husband isn't working - not due to ill health or disability. Just unlucky I guess."

Rachel tried to read that last sentance and Theo's expression for criticism but his normally open face was giving nothing away now.

"Which makes you the only bread-winner. Well we can offer four nights a week, fifty-one weeks a year." He did a swift mental calculation and named a monthly figure,

Rachel felt the wave of despair surge around her - that figure was nowhere near enough. Even if she could find some other job to match it they'd barely cover the rent.

Theo immediately identified the change in her. "Now hold up girl - I'm talking our basic. As a server you'll also get tips. With us any tips you get above our basic are yours to keep. If you are ready to work at it and our members like you - which I can guarantee they will - then you will do a LOT better than that. How much did Vicky make last month Louise?"

Now it was Louise's turn to name a figure and to take note of Rachel's reaction. "Vicky is very, very, good at her job. All the natural advantages that you have and also just a specialist at pleasing her customers."

"Preach that," murmured Joshua.

Rachel couldn't shake off her feeling when Theo had mentioned the first figure, the low basic. The crushing despair of another door closing in front of her, another opportunity turning out to be nothing of the sort. If she could make half what Vicky was making then that would cover the rent and all their expenses. They could start to put something away - maybe have a little cushion against potential disaster from a missed pay-check. Her spirit rebelled against that. Why would she only be half as good as Vicky? Her natural competitive instincts kicked in. She just needed the opportunity - then she could be as good as anyone. Get close to the figure Louise had cited and pretty soon she'd not have to worry about the rent being due ever again. Or at least not for a good long while. It would be so good to get out from under that anxiety, that constant weight on her back.

As if he had been reading her thoughts Theo resumed. "If that sounds good then we can start you Thursday. Have a couple of nights to get up to speed for the weekend. A deal?"

"Yes, yes, thank you." Rachel felt ridiculously pleased - not least to know that she'd be working weekends. That was sure to be the best time for tips and she'd assumed she'd have to work up to it. Theo and Louise stood and Rachel did the same. She wanted to phone her husband and tell him the good news.

"One moment," said Joshua. "You forgetting your expenses." He gave a beckoning gesture with the long brown fingers of his right hand. Rachel moved in front of him as he rose and pulled a money-roll out of his top pocket. One - two - three - four - five - notes all with the face of Benjamin Franklin gazing out were peeled off the roll. Joshua carefully tucked them into the leatherette pouch attached to Rachel's belt. "Just so's you know we serious, we ain't fronting ya."

"Girl knows that," said Theo, "anyway she's only got to call Lavon if she got any doubts." He flashed her his brilliant, perfect, smile.

Except that Rachel had no way of contacting Lavon Crawston. She had no idea where he was - or what he was up to.

A Good Deed

Sarah was purring like the cat that got the cream, running the long pale fingers of her manicured hand over the deep-black skin of Lavon's chest. Lavon wasn't feeling so shabby himself. They had always complimented each other in bed real well and it seemed that neither of them had been disappointed after those years apart. Began to make him wonder if maybe she hadn't just invited him over because she needed some of that good Lavon loving. He was guessing her white ex-hubby maybe hadn't been up to the standards Sarah had come to expect.

"Lavon hunny," said Sarah, "can I ask you something?"

He had to almost chuckle at that. Didn't do to get too high on your own supply. Women as fine as Sarah didn't have to call across the ocean to get a good fuck. Now she'd be telling him what this was really about.

"You can ask - what's the worse that can happen?" He enjoyed teasing her - they both knew that if it was in his power he'd help her out. Lavon always looked after his girls.

"Well I guess you could say no," she played along. She reached for her phone and opened its photo gallery. She selected a picture and held it up for Lavon to see. "So would you say no?"

Lavon smiled. The picture was of a woman of about Sarah's age. Long russet hair and hazel eyes, a face with those perfect proportions designed by mother nature to set a man's blood pumping through his veins. A young woman very different to Sarah but just as attractive. He left her question unanswered and instead posed one of his own. "Friend of yours?"

***

There was a steady flow of patrons arriving at the restaurant. Lavon was skilled at observing without seeming to observe. He had been around awhile - the reactions to his presence in places like this did not surprise him any more, if they ever had. The older white men and women were the ones who looked at him most obviously. Sometimes with hostility but more often with something like confusion. This was their place and in their city. People like Lavon were supposed to be part of the staff rather than one of the patrons.

He savoured his dry vermouth. A little taste he'd picked up when posted in Italy. It was always a mark of a good place in the US if they could lay their hands on a good vermouth and this one was pretty damn good. A portly bald man hurried his wife and daughter past. Lavon didn't make eye contact or react. Most of all, he didn't take it personally. You get told all your life that Black guys are all drug dealers and rapists and you are likely to have certain concerns and prejudices.

Some of the younger men were almost as bad. Staring at him or sometimes even smiling at him. Maybe trying to prove how 'progressive' they was. Fuck that. He'd done his years in the service and he didn't need to be patronized by anyone. He kept a count of those who didn't react to his presence at all. Those who didn't notice him or who just saw him as another person. After ten minutes it was working out at almost 50%. Not so long ago he reckoned it would have been 20%, maybe only ten.

He'd settle for that because, of all things, Lavon Crawford was no hypocrite. He'd grown up over in H-Town, supposedly in the same country as this city but sometimes it could be hard to accept that. Now if some white asshole had arrived at one of the places he used to drink in then you could believe that would have drawn some attention! No doubt it would do so even today. Wasn't his place to cause a problem here.

Third table across was a case in point. A couple were there, man in his early forties and his wife, or maybe girlfriend, a few years younger. His back was to Lavon and he seemed to be talking ten to the dozen. She was nodding and listening but Lavon could feel her eyes on him. When her man had been making their order she had take the chance to look directly at Lavon, a look Lavon had seen many times before. White boy hadn't noticed a thing but Lavon had. Start reacting to signals like that in the wrong way and a man could cause a whole lot of trouble.

Seated at the bar Lavon had watched her in the mirror. He'd raised his vermouth for a taste and then infinitesimally raised it before placing the glass back on the polished hardwood counter. He saw her notice the salute and then had let her eyes meet his in the glass for a second. Just a second before he had glanced away and out of the window. The woman was cute but this wasn't the place or the time. He'd done his bit. He'd shown his interest and she'd be wondering for a while whether she'd actually seen what she'd seen. Trying to interpret it, trying to believe it. He'd had no trouble translating her gaze, he'd seen it so many times before. Those blonde honeys out in Estonia, his new female tenants back home, the girls in Italy. Yeah, Lavon knew what that gaze meant. A certain white boy needed to up his game and make his girl feel wanted. Otherwise...

At last Sarah arrived and she'd brought her friend. Lavon got to his feet and held out his hand.

"This is Jo - you remember?"

Lavon couldn't help but smile at that. He remembered alright. Jo was a friend of Sarah, the best and closest friend that Sarah had made since moving out here. She owned a little gallery down-town, was part of the small and embattled cultural community in their city. Like Sarah she was a relatively recent arrival, like Sarah she felt a little like a fish out of water, like Sarah she had recently found out that her other half was playing away.

That was hard to figure unless they were putting something in the water out here. To Lavon if you was smart or fly enough to land a woman like Jo or Sarah you made sure to treat them right. Maybe these guys just felt that, as men, they had the right to play while wife-y stayed home. You could argue on the first point, maybe, but as tonight proved the second was never going to fly.

Jo was a little curvier than Sarah, russet-haired instead of blonde. Just went to prove that there were many ways of being beautiful. There was no doubt that both of these young women were just that. However, Lavon knew that things weren't as simple as that. That was why he had suggested dinner rather than just meeting at Sarah's.

He knew Sarah. They'd known each other before her husband had ever come along. They still knew each other after that marriage was done. Sarah knew what she needed and Lavon was proud to supply it. Jo was very different. She didn't know Lavon and she was seriously on the rebound. People did strange things when they were put on tilt like that and often came to regret it. Lavon was not a man who enjoyed the idea of a woman feeling regret for being with him.

Weighing against that was the fact that Jo was here. He knew Sarah would have been up front on who he was, there was no deception going on here. That Jo was here signalled her interest. However, how deep was that interest and where was that interest focused? She was acknowledging the possibility of a threesome by being here but just who was her main attraction in that scenario? Lavon didn't want to make himself the price of admission. No-one was going to be doing anything they were not happy with.

He could see the young woman was nervous at first. He enjoyed watching her slowly relax in their company. Lavon wondered if he was what Jo had been expecting. He guessed he didn't quite fit with her usual social circle so you never could tell. After their meal he decided to put his cards on the table - let her know how he felt.

"See you're wearing your ring."

Jo's face flushed a little. She wore more than one ring on more than one finger but they both knew which ring Lavon was talking about. Proving the fact Jo looked straight at her wedding ring and seemed about to speak. She didn't for a moment - choosing her words carefully. "Taking it off would seem so ... final."

"So you aiming on taking your man back?"

Jo's jaw tightened a little, the shake of her head was emphatic. "No. That is not going to happen. Not after what he did. But I spent so much energy, so much time..." The words died.

Lavon nodded, his face grave. "I'm seeing that. Understanding it too. Maybe this is too soon for you. Maybe you should only be here after you've decided to take that ring off. To move on."

Her hazel eyes were on his, weighing his words and judging the man in front of her, Lavon saw the determination fix in those beautiful eyes of hers. She moved her other hand to her ring finger.

Lavon's larger and darker hand gently covered hers. "Leave them on for tonight if you like," he said calmly, "I kinda like to see another man's ring on my girl's hand. They got a problem with that then they should have flown straight. Now - you get to make your own rules, you hear?"

Sarah's soft little laugh didn't break the mood. Not one bit.

***

There was a whole lot of bullshit talked about women. For one thing any man who thought 'women' could all be placed in one category, that they were somehow all the same, he was an asshole. If he was telling you how to 'play the game' then he was worse. Dealing with people, real flesh and blood people, was no game. It was an art or maybe a science but it wasn't no damned game! Also, there were no guarantees. Sometimes it didn't work out - in business, in relationships, in most anything. You just learned from your setbacks, improved from your mistakes. At least that was what you did if you had a brain in your head.