“You-you have a freckle in your eye,” he said.
“I got it from my father,” I mumbled, staring at him hesitantly, as though his face were the sun and I didn’t want to blind myself.
He shook his head. “What are you doing down here?”
“I … I fell,” I said, bristling at the steel in his voice.
“I can see that.” His scowl set firmer. “I mean what were you doing skulking around at my doorstep? And what did you do with my barrier?”
He glared at the street above, at the decidedly barren stairwell that apparently was supposed to be blocked off.
“I didn’t see any barrier,” I said, trying—and failing—to squirm my way out of his arms.
“Damn children,” he growled. His chest, firm and impressive, rose and fell in deep, sharp intakes of breath. “Look, no one is supposed to be down here. It’s not safe.”
“Obviously,” I said. “Now can you put me down?”
He sighed heavily and sat me on the pavement. I winced as pain shot up my ankle and my leg folded under me.
“Damn it, you’re hurt,” he said, scooping me back up, but sounding more perturbed than concerned. “I suppose you’ll have to come in now.”
“Well, don’t put yourself out or anything. Wouldn’t want you to overdo it with the compassion and pull a muscle.”
He glared down at me and huffed, marching me through a door he unlocked by pressing a series of numbers against a keypad.
I bit at the inside of my cheek, debating if I might be better off hobbling home with my injuries or letting this jerk help me. Considering he was a very handsome jerk, I went along with the latter.
We entered a huge, barren space that, upon first inspection, was probably almost definitely a murder dungeon.
On the off chance I was wrong, I muttered, “What is this place?”
“A club,” he answered flatly. “Or it will be in two weeks.”
“A club?” I asked, looking around at the dark, dank void, thinking about how big of a turnaround two weeks would have to bring for this to be anything even close to such a thing.
“Yes,” he said, setting me on a lone, dusty stool. “For dancing, mingling … you know, general merriment.”
“General merriment?” I asked, giggling inwardly. “Why would you even want a club in a town like this? There’s no market for it.”
“There are young people here,” he answered. “This will give them someplace to go. Someplace safe,” he finished under his breath. “Let me get you ice and get you on your way.”
“You’re a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” I said as he disappeared off into a backroom.
Looking around the space, I saw it was even more pathetic right side up. There was no way this guy was going to turn this place into a club in two weeks. It would take someone of immense taste and talent to pull that sort of thing off. It would take someone who had been around the block a time or two, someone who knew what she was doing and had the foresight to get it done, someone like …
My gaze fell on a ‘Manager Wanted’ sign.
While it was true I didn’t want to stick around, this was the sort of thing that could really help me out. I could help Mr. Deadpan get this place up and running, make a little scratch, and then take off once I got my legs back under me. Plus it would give me something to do so I wouldn’t feel like such an anchor around Lulu’s neck.
“You’re looking for a manager,” I yelled into the distance.
“No,” he yelled back.
“You’re not?”
“I am, but it’s not you,” he answered, still in the other room. “There’s a form and protocol. But that aside, you wouldn’t be a good fit.”
“Me?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “I spent my formative years in New York hobnobbing with Hollywood starlets and athletes. And you think I wouldn’t be a good fit? I can’t see why, given that it would take me all of fifteen minutes to give this place a fighting chance.”
“Look, I understand you’re—”
A loud rumbling noise came from the back, like thunder or a large machine malfunctioning.
There was silence for a long time after that—so long that I leaned forward and shouted, “Hey, bud, you okay?”
The noise amplified and a muffled “Goddamn it!” came from the back room. Then there was a loud clanking and crash, as if a set of dishes had shattered against the floor. This guy was going to get himself killed.