Duke Street

late night.... duke street by m.a. scott

grayson pohl sat at the bar of the duke street jazz club nursing a pint of foster’s beer and nibbling on the stubs of his fingernails. the band on stage were running through a spicy blues number. the bass player, a gangly brown-skinned woman, abruptly stopped, letting the bass rest against her left hip. grayson turned his attention from his fingers to the stage then sled off his stool and started toward them. “can we slow the tempo down right there a bit?” lois said, walking toward the piano. “what the hell’s goin’ on?” grayson said, his thick british accent echoing around the nearly empty club. “it’s less than ‘alf an ‘our till show time and you guys sound like shit.” lois undid the strap of her bass. “fuck you, grayson,” she said and set the bass beside it’s amp. he glared at her a moment as she paced across the stage then turned to the bald black man sitting behind the ivory colored upright steinway. clarence shook his head and stood. “that’s five, everybody,” he muttered and hopped off the stage. “fredrico...,” he shouted, heading for the bar. the bartender came out from behind the wall of neon and mirrors behind the bar carrying a case of corona under one of his massive arms and a case of zima under the other. he set his load on the bar then looked up at the man walking toward him. “yeah...?” he grunted and ripped open the case of corona. “rum and coke,” clarence said, sliding onto one of the leather stools. he scratched his shoulder then peeked inside his shirt at the flesh colored patch. he grabbed a tumbler from under the counter then reached for the bottle of captain morgan on the marble shelf by the register. “what’s up?” he said. he filled the glass adding a shot of coke from the tap. clarence stared at the glass a moment. “nothing’,” he said and shook his head. he reached for the glass and quickly took a sip. “you’re letting all that tension knot you up,” lois said. she sat next to clarence and

glanced back at the stage. he set his drink down and looked over at her. “why don’t you help me relieve some of this tension.” his gaze dropped down to her bare legs. “sorry,” she said and smiled. “but i don’t sleep with musicians.” fredrico grinned. he grabbed a bottle of tequiza from the cooler and set it in front of her. “nice try, clay,” he said and winked at lois. a crooked smile spread across clarence’s face. “what the bloody hell’s wrong, clarence?” grayson said, striding toward the bar. “leave me alone, grayson,” he grumbled. he stared down at the glass of rum a moment then took another quick sip. “i suppose you’d ‘ave me tell that to the customers too, eh?” “don’t get all hyper on me, alright.” he turned to face grayson and stood. “i’ll be fine.” he stepped past him and headed back to the stage. “you really know how to piss a guy off, grayson,” lois said. she brought the bottle of beer up to her lips and shook her head. he started to say something, but stopped himself. instead, he turned his attention to the footsteps on the catwalk above the bar. “everything ok up there, joey?” “yeah, boss,” the boy said, stepping out from behind the bank of lights. “good,” he said and threw up his hands. “at least somethin’s goin’ right.” the carved mahogany doors opened and a stocky blond haired man walked in dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket. “sorry i’m late,” he grunted as he passed by grayson. “you bloody ought to be,” he said. “we open in less than ‘alf an ‘our.” “don’t mess with me, grayson,” he said. “i’ve had a bad day.” he skirted around the corner of the bar and disappeared into the kitchen. “does everyone ‘ave an at’itude this evening?” clarence swallowed another gulp of his drink then set it on the piano. he glanced back at grayson with an apologetic look on his face then dropped onto the bench. he stared at the keys a moment, scratched his shoulder then slowly began to play a soft staccato melody. “...and you know, angel...,” he sang to himself. “i would do for you what he could

never do. he can’t give you what you really need....” chet looked up from behind his drums and glared at clarence. “oh shit,” he said. “he’s in one of his moods.” “he’s as bad as a woman,” juan said, plucking at his guitar. he turned to see lois step onto the stage. “no offense, lois.” she rolled her eyes at the short hispanic man then headed for the piano. “none taken.” chet chuckled and stood. he tapped juan on the shoulder. “let’s go get ready, man.” “yeah...,” he said, following him to the stairs. “before her head spins around and she starts speaking in tongues.” lois chuckled and looked back at him. “i heard that.” clarence abruptly stopped, his hands hovering over the keys. he looked up and saw lois leaning against the piano. “you...,” he started then looked away. “you ever wanted something really bad, but couldn’t have it?” she shrugged. “i guess,” she said. “when i was a little girl, i wanted a pony.” she took a sip of his drink. “i wanted michael to propose, but he never did.” she watched him a moment then sat beside him. “what’s up?” he looked over at her. “what would you do if that one thing you wanted most belonged to someone else?” lois smiled. “i don’t know. i used to ride my friend, alexis’ pony.” a slight smile lit across clarence’s face. he shook his head, let his fingers dance across the keys then looked up at his drink. “my nephew’s coming to town,” he said. “and he’s bringing his fiancée.” “let me guess,” lois said. “you’re in love with her.” “he treats her like shit...,” he said and stood. “the only reason he’s with her is because he got her pregnant.” he grabbed his drink and swallowed a gulp. “they’re coming to show off their daughter.” lois laid her hand on his shoulder then stood. “congratulate him. you should be happy for your nephew.” “he...doesn’t deserve her.” “come on,” she said. she reached for his glass and finished off his drink. “let’s go

get dressed.” he looked around the club as the crowd slowly trickled in then stood and followed her off stage to the dressing rooms. serena slipped past a tall, slender built brown-skinned man dressed in a rust colored boateng suit and a petite blond woman in a tight black leather dress. she tossed her braided red hair over her shoulder and headed for the kitchen. a bald black man followed her. he looped one of his arms around her narrow waist and pulled her to him. “boris...,” she groaned and turned to face him. “cut it out. don’t you ever get enough?” he held her in his arms as he kissed her neck. “we got interrupted, remember.” “bo....” she pushed him away and quickly glanced around the bar. “what?” serena folded her arms across her ample chest as she headed for the kitchen. “you can be such an asshole.” “i’m a bouncer,” he said and chuckled. “it’s my job to be an asshole.” he turned and went back to his post in the lobby. “i got it,” chris said angrily. he wheeled the silver serving cart out of the kitchen and glanced over his shoulder at grayson following him. “i want this set up to look nice,” grayson continued, following him toward a table in front of the stage. “this couple is special, they’re friends of mine.” chris stopped at the table and turned to face him. “i said i got it.” grayson threw a glance around the club. a group of college kids had come through the door and were settling into the lounge area. he looked back at chris, his face flushed. “you keep smartin’ off like that, mate, and you’ll find yourself on the dole.” “whatever, man,” he said. he turned back to the cart and lifted the double layered white sheet cake off the cart and set it on the table along with a bottle of laurent-perrier. grayson took a deep breath. he nudged the cake with the back of his hand, centering it on the table then headed for the bar. chris glanced back at him. he ran his hand through his hair then took the box of candles out of his pocket. “chris...,” a soft voice said.

he turned to see serena walking toward him. “i think we ought to talk,” she said. “i don’t have anything to talk about.” he looked past her at chet and juan walking onto the stage. “maybe you should go have a chat with boris.” “chris....” she sighed, frustrated then glanced up at the stage. “it...it’s not like it meant anything.” “so you were just fuckin’ him for the hell of it.” he stared at her, watching her gaze shift nervously from him to the band. he pushed past her and headed back to the kitchen. serena spun on her heels and folded her arms across her chest. “at least he knows how to fuck.” juan picked up his black and gold les paul and turned to chet. “did you hear that?” “that was fucked up,” he said and chuckled. clarence took a drag on the plastic tube as he crossed the stage, frowned then slid onto the bench behind the piano. he set the tube on the crystal ashtray, scratched his shoulder. the crowd was settling into their seats. a pale, portly couple stared up at him from their table by the edge of the stage. he turned his attention to lois strapping on her bass. “one...two...three...,” he whispered, nodding his head, then launched into a blazing one handed solo. lois thumped the e string of her bass, breaking the tempo then eased into a funky rhythm. chet joined in, his brushes dancing across the high-hat and snare. a squeal from juan’s guitar faded into an intricate riff. grayson watched from the corner of the stage, a crooked smile on his thin lips. he looked over the modest crowd of college students, young professionals and aging hipsters scattered around the room. he stopped when he saw an elderly woman in a sea foam cashmere coat step through the doorway, a tall slender built white-haired man on her arm. he pushed away from the wall and headed toward them. “stoli on the rocks,” the young dark haired man said. his date glared at him from across the table as he leered at serena. she cleared her

throat. “and i’ll have an apple martini.” she laid her hands on the table making sure the diamond on her finger caught the waitresses attention. “ok...,” serena said and sighed. “be right back.” she turned and headed for the bar. “serena...,” she looked over her shoulder at grayson walking toward her. “find chris and tell ’im i need ’im at the table.” she nodded and headed for the bar. “roger...anne,” grayson said walking up to the door, a smile plastered across his face. “glad you could make it.” “what...?” roger said. “and miss out on a night of free drinks.” “shut up, you,” anne said and elbowed her husband in the stomach. she turned back to grayson and kissed him on the cheek. chris ran his fingers through his stringy brown hair and looked up at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. a frown creased his face. he dried his hands on his apron and walked out into the kitchen. “chris...,” serena yelled. he looked over at her standing in the doorway. “what?” he folded his arms across his chest and glared at her. “what do you want, serena?” “grayson says he needs you at the table,” she said and rolled her eyes. “now.” she turned her back to him and walked back out to the bar. he sighed heavily then grabbed the lighter from the shelf by the prep tables and followed her. the crowd was cheering as lois plucked her way through her solo. she smiled, spinning her way across the stage. she stopped at the piano, trading riffs with clarence. the music stopped suddenly...vamped...stopped again then chet brought his sticks down on the cymbals. the crowd roared with applause. “ladies and gentlemen,” grayson said, grabbing the vintage chrome calrad microphone. “welcome to duke street.” he glanced over at chris making his way toward the table at center stage. “we have a special couple in the audience tonight. they gave me quite a boost when i made the jump across the big pond.”

chris forced himself to smile. he nodded to the couple then drew the neon blue butane lighter out of his apron and lit the candles. “tonight, they’re celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary,” grayson said. another wave of applause swept over the audience. “anne, roger, stand up and take a bow. congratulations.” clarence stood and walked over to the microphone. he laid his hand on grayson’s shoulder and nodded. “anne and roger,” he said. “this next number is dedicated to you.” the house lights dimmed and juan replaced his les paul with an acoustic guitar. his fingers moved gracefully down the neck of the guitar. behind him, chet kept time, gently tapping the side of the snare. clarence sat behind the steinway and glanced at the elderly couple. “when i fall in love...,” he sang. “it will be forever....” he caressed the keys, closed his eyes and swayed to the music. a hush had come over the crowd as clarence went into his solo. he rocked back and forth, eyes closed, his fingers dancing over the keys of the roland dx10. as the song came to an end applause echoed around the room, clarence let a small smile seep across his face. grayson gave anne wadsworth a peck on the cheek then stood. “thank you, sweetie,” she said. “everything was lovely.” “you throw a nice surprise, boy,” roger said. he looked back at the old man and nodded. “i learned from the best,” he said then headed for the stage. the house lights came up. grayson grabbed the microphone and looked out across the crowd. “let’s have another round of applause for the band,” he said, fighting off the disappointed frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. he glanced back at the band. “well...it’s come to that time of the evening.” he turned to the audience. “i’d like to thank you all for coming out. hope you enjoyed the show...goodnight.” a short, slender built man dressed in jeans and a leather riding jacket slipped through the doors just as the crowd began to file out. he pushed past anne wadsworth,

knocking her beaded clutch to the floor. “excuse me...,” he mumbled, scooping up the bag. he handed it to her then quickly headed for the stage. “yo...,” boris yelled. the crowd parted as he stepped into the club. “yo....” he grabbed the man by his jacket and pulled him back to the door. “let’s walk back outside real nice like.” “ease up, man,” he said, glancing back at the stage. “i just came in to see lois.” boris let go of his jacket and pushed him toward the door. “second show starts in half an hour.” he stared at the bouncer a moment. “i just need to talk to her for a second.” “then i suggest you buy a ticket and wait for the next show.” the man looked past him at the stage then reluctantly turned away. “alright.” “my nigga, bo’...,” mitchell collin’s voice boomed. a grin spread across boris’ face as he saw the buff dark-skinned man sliding through the doorway. behind him was a short latino woman in a sheer red-lace dress. “what’s been up?” mitch said. boris’ gaze fell on the woman’s cleavage. “same old shit,” he said. he quickly turned his eyes back to mitch and they tapped fist. he threw a glance at the man in the leather jacket standing in the doorway. “victoria, this is boris,” mitch said. “an old friend of mine.” she smiled. “hi...,” she said and extended her hand. boris took her and hand and raised it to his thick lips. “nice to meet you.” an arm coiled around mitch’s waist. he turned to see serena standing beside him. she glanced over at the girl staring at her then back up at mitch. “who’s your new girlfriend?” “serena...,” he said, peeling her arms away. “this is victoria...my fiancée.” the two women exchanged glances again. “i’ll catch you later, mitchell,” serena said and headed for the bar. “alrighty,” he said. he looked back at victoria and rolled his eyes. the man in the leather jacket slipped past boris again. he quickly made his way around the empty tables and walked up to the edge of the stage. “lois....”

she set her bass against the piano. she looked back at the man standing at the foot of the stage and her mouth dropped open. “well...,” she said and smirked. “if it isn’t my long lost romeo.” she walked over to the edge of the stage. “what brings you back here?” “i wanted to see you,” he said and smiled. “oh, michael, please....” she turned away and shook her head. “the big time gettin’ too hectic for you?” he hopped onto the stage. “i came here...,” he started. she turned to face him. “i came here to ask you to marry me.” she stared at him a moment, stunned. she looked away and found the band staring at her. “m...michael...,” she stuttered as she backed away from him. “i never stopped loving you, lois.” “michael....” “ok, partner,” boris said, leaping onto the stage. “let’s go.” he looked back at the bouncer then at lois. “lois....” he watched her gaze shift between him and the bouncer. “think about it,” he said then slowly walked off the stage. boris gave her a puzzled look before he escorted michael out of the club. mitch led victoria to a corner table by the stage. “wait here a minute,” he said as she sat down. “i’ll be right back.” she looked up at him. “tell clarence i said hi.” he nodded then headed for the stage. clarence leaned against the piano and watched lois pace across the stage. “so...,” he said and grinned. “will it be a large formal affair or a small intimate one?” she turned her eyes to him then slowly walked over to the piano. “i haven’t said yes yet.” he pulled a pack of nicorette out of his pocket and quickly popped one into his mouth. “but...you plan to...,” he said, scratching his shoulder. “why don’t you just go back to smoking?” she said. “this obviously isn’t working.” “it helps,” he said and rubbed his temples. “so is it yes or what?” lois shrugged. “i don’t know,” she said and sighed. “michael’s everything i ever wanted in a man...except stable.” she pushed away from the piano and went back to

pacing. “he probably just came back here on impulse.” “what’s wrong with that?” she looked out across the club. “how...,” she started. “how do i know if he’s serious?” “you won’t know,” clarence said. he looked past her at mitch walking onto the stage. “unless i try,” lois said and smirked. “mitch...,” juan said as they slapped hands. “wassup?” lois looked back at him and smiled. “hi, mitchell.” he grinned back at her. “so, you gonna give up all this and get married?” he leaned against the piano and leered at her. “damn,” she groaned. “did anybody not hear it?” she turned away from him and headed for the steps. juan strummed his guitar to the tune of the wedding march. “knock it off,” she barked. grayson swallowed a gulp of foster’s and shook his head. he looked up at the bartender leaning against the register. “did you see the turnout?” he said. “there was less than a hundred people in here.” fredrico nodded and glanced across the club. “it’s been like that for a fortnight,” grayson said. “maybe you need a new band,” the bartender said. grayson stared at him then shrugged. lois hopped onto the stool beside grayson and stared down at the black marble counter. “tanqueray and lime, freddie.” grayson spun around on his stool and faced her. “am i gonna be losin’ my little girl?” she smiled crookedly. “you won’t be losing me.” fredrico set the drink in front of her. “congratulations,” serena said. she laid her tray on the bar and leaned against it. lois shook her head. “i haven’t made a decision yet.” “yeah,” fredrico said. “but everybody knows you’re gonna say yes.” she looked up at him and sipped her drink.

“what’s the matter, love,” grayson said. “afraid you’ll have to leave all a’ this?” he looked around the club. she set her drink aside. “no.” “then what?” serena said. “i don’t know.” she slid onto the stool and propped her head up on one arm. “look, the guy’s ready to make a commitment,” she said. “how often are you gonna find that?” chris walked past serena and shook his head. “what would you know about commitment?” she glared at him, following him with her eyes as he disappeared into the storeroom. fredrico chuckled to himself. “why don’t you come out west for a while,” mitch said. he sat behind the piano and tapped on the keys. he glanced over at victoria walking toward the stage. “see what it’s like.” “i work better here,” clarence said. he pushed away from the piano and stood. “he doesn’t wanna come, torry.” “clarence...,” she whined. he smiled at her and nodded. “someday,” he said. “maybe.” “yeah, right,” mitch said. “alright,” clarence said and laid his hand on mitch’s shoulder. “second show’s about to start.” he stepped around him and slid onto the bench. “i’m goin’, ok.” he started for the edge of the stage. “one of these days you’ll change your mind.” “maybe,” clarence said. he glanced over at victoria and their eyes met. she smiled then turned and followed mitch back to their table. juan reached behind the amp for his guitar and brought out the mahogany case containing his tenor sax. he opened it and a wicked smile lit his face. he quickly put the saxophone together then turned to clarence. “we’re opening with bessie’s blues, right?” clarence looked over at him. “it’s the peanuts theme, then bessie then paris,” he

said. he pursed his lips angrily then set the sax aside and picked up his guitar. “we ready to go?” grayson said, following lois onto the stage. chet swallowed the last of his guinness. “as ready as i’m gonna get.” grayson looked out at the crowd, shook his head slowly then headed for the microphone. the band ripped into a funky blues version of the peanuts theme, clarence pounding away on the keyboard, lois underscoring the beat on her bass. michael and boris traded glares as he walked back into the club and made his way across the room to the bar. he waved to the bartender then turned his attention to the stage. “ladies and gentlemen,” grayson said. “welcome to duke street.” “what can i get you?” fredrico said. michael looked back at him. “a honey brown, please,” he said and glanced over at the stage. “comin’ up.” he grabbed one of the pub glasses from under the counter and turned to the cooler. “you the guy who proposed to lois?” he grabbed a bottle of dundees’ and filled the ice blue glass. he nodded. “she’s special.” “i know,” fredrico said and nodded back. he stared at michael a moment then slid the glass toward him. “...so without further ado,” grayson said. “i give you q.” a round of applause swept over the crowd as the house lights dimmed. lois plucked at her bass, working her way through a staccato melody. juan stepped forward, joining her in the spotlight. they exchanged glances and a smile spread across her face. he brought the glittering sax up to his lips and began to play. a grin played on serena’s lips. she bounced to the beat of the music as she made her way across the room to the table by the lounge. “can i get you something to drink?” victoria looked up startled. “a...rum collins, please.” she glanced at her then turned to mitch. “and you?” “what would you suggest?” he said.

serena laid her hand on his shoulder. “i’ll bring you something special,” she said and winked. “i hope so,” mitch said. she glanced at victoria again then headed for the bar. victoria sat back in her chair with her arms folded across her chest and glared at mitch. he leaned toward her, smiling and caressed her bare arm. she shook her head as she turned her eyes to the stage. “gin and tonic, freddie,” grayson said and slid onto the leather stool. fredrico turned away from michael and grabbed the bottle of beefeater. he quickly filled a tumbler and set the drink in front of him. grayson took a sip. “thanks, mate,” he hissed. he glanced down the bar at michael and raised his glass. serena stepped between them and set her tray on the bar. she glanced at michael, flashed him a smile then turned to the bartender. “a rum collins and a ruby stoli.” on stage, the music stopped, leaving lois to her staccato solo. michael set his drink aside and watched her. her long slender fingers stroked the neck of the bass and slowly plucked the strings. she looked up as their eyes met. the song ended and another wave of applause swept through the crowd. “she’s good,” serena said. michael nodded, not taking his eyes off the stage. “always has been.” she stared at him. “drinks up,” fredrico said. serena glanced up at him. “you two make a cute couple.” michael looked back at her and a shy smile crossed his face. boris came up behind serena and wrapped his meaty arm around her waist. “what say after work we finish what we started,” he said and kissed her neck. “bo...,” she groaned. she threw an apologetic glance at michael then wriggled out of boris’ arms. “not right now.” she grabbed her tray of drinks and headed back into the crowd. chris walked up to the bar. he sneered at serena as she passed by him. “a foster’s and a guinness, freddie,” he muttered. “and a bowl of chips.”

boris brushed past chris as he headed for the door. the spotlight shifted from lois at center stage to clarence behind the piano. he looked out at the audience as he adjusted his microphone. “i’d like to make a little change to tonight’s performance,” he said. the band groaned. “oh no, not this again,” juan said. a spotlight fell on him as he set his sax down and stormed off the stage. clarence grinned. “there’s someone special in the audience tonight,” he said. “and lois here has been working on a new....” “clarence, don’t do this to me,” she said, sauntering toward the piano. he turned to the roland keyboard beside him, glanced back at her and wiggled his eyebrows. his fingers flickered across the keys playing a bouncy rhythm. chet chimed in, tapping on the high-hat. lois pouted. she let her fingers slide down the neck of the bass, slapping her thumb against the top string. she stepped back to the microphone and looked over at michael sitting at the bar. “parole de thay qui dans l'amour, rien juste. mais nous tous jouons toujours le jeu.” she sang. her eyes panned the crowd. “faites-vous attraper toujours du côté faux, les résultats les mêmes. le ciel m'aident si je donne dedans à ce coeur fou du mien.” michael smiled. juan waved to the bartender as he leapt onto one of the stools. fredrico cracked open a bottle of cherry flavored water and slid it down the bar toward him. he grabbed the bottle then saw michael sitting at the far end of the bar. he glanced back at the stage and stood. michael set his empty glass on the bar then turned to search for the bartender. juan nodded to michael then slid onto the stool beside him. “she’s good, ain’t she?” he said and looked back to the stage. “yeah...,” he said. he glanced over his shoulder at the bartender. “you want another one?” fredrico said. michael nodded. “it’s on me,” juan said.

michael turned to face him. “thanks.” he glanced back at the stage again. “so, you gonna take her away from us?” “come on, now,” michael said and grinned. “you make me sound like a thief.” juan turned to the bar. “lois, she’s like a big sister to me.” he turned the bottle of seltzer up to his lips. “what happened to you two?” he shrugged. “careers.” he looked past juan at the stage. “she loves her music,” juan said and set his bottle down. “what do you do?” “i’m head writer for city.” “the soap opera?” michael smile, slightly embarrassed. “yeah.” “must be nice.” he grabbed his bottle and stood. “well...i gotta get back on stage, song’s almost over.” he backed away from michael. “she could do a worse.” he spun around and headed for the stage. the house lights came up as the song came to an end. juan squeezed past serena and leapt up the steps onto the stage. she watched him a moment then turned her eyes to the crowd. mitch swallowed the last of his drink then turned to victoria. her gaze was still fixed on the stage. he reached over and brushed her hair from her face. she knocked his hand away and glared at him. “what...?” he said surprised. she stared at him a moment then turned her attention back to the stage. “don’t touch me,” she muttered. “oh come on, torry,” he said and leaned toward her. “don’t be like that.” “i’m tired of it.” mitch stared back at her. “tired of what?” she shot him an angry look. “whatever...,” he said and stood. “i gotta go to the bathroom.” he turned away and headed for the bar. clarence looked out across the crowd and scratched his shoulder. victoria sat alone. he quickly scanned the room and saw mitch heading for the bar. he shook his head. “we’re gonna slow things down a bit,” he said. his eyes turned back to victoria. “this next

song...is called empty love.” lois watched him rock back and forth as he hesitantly began to play the ballad. she plucked at her bass then turned her eyes to the crowd. “hey you...,” serena said, wrapping her arm around his waist. he looked back at her and smiled. “and where do you think you’re going?” she said. “i was just on my way to the bathroom,” he said and laid his arm on her shoulder. she glanced down at his crotch then brushed the braids back from her face. “need any help?” “serena...,” he sighed. she pulled him toward her then led him past the bar into the dimly lit hall. the door to the men’s room opened and a slender white man in a kale green suit jacket walked out. he eyed serena a moment then continued on back to his table. she giggled as she pulled mitch through the doorway. “it’s been a while...huh,” he said. she ran her hand over the front of his pants. “too long.” they kissed. she undid the buckle of his belt and slipped her hand inside his wool slacks. mitch backed her through the door of the handicap stall, his fingers working her skirt up over the curve of her behind. he peeled back her black silk panties and gripped her soft, smooth flesh. her hand closed around his thick cock. it was warm. she felt it swelling in her hand. she stroked it, guiding it toward her. he lifted her, pressing her tiny body against the wall of the stall. they kissed again. serena cradled his head in her hands as she felt him plunge his way into her. she gasped. mitch’s pants hit the floor, his belt clinking against the marble tile. chet’s arms moved like lightning, his sticks crashing against the symbols, rolling across the tom toms, snapping the snare as he ripped through his solo. the rest of the band

kicked back into the flamenco flavored groove. juan and lois danced across the stage, spinning around each other then stalking each other in an awkward imitation of the tango. as the song ended, he dropped to one knee, slinging his guitar behind him and looped his arm around her waist. the neck of her bass just missed his head as she dropped it to her side. the crowd roared with applause. juan looked up at her, panting heavily and they both laughed. grayson leapt up the steps, tripping over the top step and stumbled across the stage to the microphone. he glanced back at juan rising to his feet then turned to the audience. “let’s have another ’and for q,” he said, beaming. clarence and chet joined lois and juan at center stage. “that’s our show for tonight,” grayson said. “goodnight.” another round of applause filled the club. the lights came up and the crowd slowly started for the door. “great show,” clarence said and gave lois a hug. she stared back at him, following his gaze toward the crowd. michael sat at the bar watching her. “always leave ’em wanting more,” clarence said and chuckled. she looked back at him then punched him in the arm. he slipped past her and hurried off the stage. “what you gonna do with the rest of the night?” juan said, grabbing his saxophone case. chet stepped out from behind the drums, running his fingers through his hair. “find me a nice pair of titties to lay between.” “you need to cut it out, chet,” lois said. she unhooked her bass and set it on its stand. “someday...,” he said. “but not tonight.” he followed after clarence, dancing his way down the steps. juan snapped the saxophone case closed and turned to lois. “you alright?” she watched michael walking toward the stage. she looked back at juan startled then nodded. “yeah.”

he glanced at michael then stepped toward her. “he’s cute,” he said. “you decidin’ on whether you’re gonna marry him or not?” “nope...,” she sighed. “you’re not gonna marry him?” lois turned away from him and walked over to the piano. she looked back at him as she leaned against it. “i...haven’t decided.” “well...,” juan started. they stared at each other a moment. “i hope whatever you decide, it’s what you want.” “thanks,” she said and nodded. she watched him saunter down the stairs and head for the dressing room. “i didn’t know you knew french,” michael said. lois looked over at him standing at the foot of the stage. “juste quelque chose que j'ai prise,” she said. she pushed away from the piano and started toward him. he sat on the edge of the stage and stared up at her, a smiled etched on his face. “so, you gonna keep me in suspense or what?” she sat beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. “michael...,” she groaned. “it’s been so hard being away from you.” a smirk showed on lois’ face. “michael...,” she said and sat up. “it’s been five and a half years.” she hopped off the stage. “five and a half long years,” he said, following her. “and you want me to make a decision in one night?” she turned to face him. “i’ve worked myself to death so i could come back here....” he laid his hands on her hips and kissed her. “...and give you all the things i promised.” lois looked past him at the stage. “and in five years, i’ve managed to get a grip on my life,” she said. “i’m finally doing something i enjoy doing.” michael let his hands fall to his sides and backed away from her. “so your answer is no.” “being here at the club and playing with the band is my life now....” “i love you,” michael said and leaned against the stage. “i always have.” “i love you too.” “so marry me.”

lois shook her head. “you were always a hopeless romantic.” “what’s wrong with that?” he stepped toward her again and put his arms around her. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you.” “michael...,” she whispered. “i can’t.” clarence followed chet out of the dressing room, pulling on a gray wool riding jacket. “you headin’ over to lilly’s?” “nah...,” he said and chuckled. he looked back at him. “lil’ and i split up a week ago.” clarence shrugged and smirked. as he came around the corner of the bar, he saw victoria talking to the bartender. she looked over at him then quickly made her way down the length of the bar. “clarence...,” she said. “catch you later, chet,” he said then turned to the woman. “victoria, what’s wrong?” “have you seen mitch?” a stunned look crossed his face. he glanced around the club then finally settling his gaze on victoria. there were tears in her hazel eyes. “i haven’t seen him since before our set,” he said. she sat down. “he got up to go to the bathroom...,” she started. she brushed the back of her hand across her nose then looked up at clarence. he was staring past her at the far end of the bar. mitch leaned against the bar, a crooked grin on his face. serena slid onto the stool beside him and wrapped her arm around his waist. he looked up at fredrico walking toward him. victoria’s steely glare met his. victoria stood quickly and stormed toward him. “what the hell is this?” clarence followed her. serena turned on her stool then stood. “get out of my way, bitch,” victoria growled. “torry, wait,” mitch said. he pushed serena aside and stepped past her. “wait for what?” clarence grabbed her arm. she looked back at him and he reluctantly let go.

“torry, it ain’t even about all that,” mitch said. tears trickled down her cheeks. “ain’t about what?” she said and faced him. “you piece of shit. i told you i’m tired of it...and i’m tired of you too.” she pushed past him and ran out of the club. “torry....” “leave her alone,” clarence said. he whirled around and glared at him. for a moment, silence filled the room. chris came out of the kitchen, his black back-pack slung over his shoulder. he stopped mid-stride at the sight of the crowd gathered at the bar. “what’s goin’ on?” serena turned around and their eyes met. “you fucked up, mitch,” clarence said. he stepped back from him stunned. “what the fuck...?” lois turned toward the bar. she took a hesitant step toward them then looked back at michael. “what happened?” chris said, his eyes darting back and forth between serena, mitch and clarence. he stepped toward serena. “you fuck him too?” he snapped, nodding at mitch. “what if i did?” she said and sat back down. chris’ face flushed. “you fuckin’ whore.” “shut the hell up, little boy,” mitch said. he turned to face him and dropped the bag. mitch sneered at him. “oh, and what you gonna do?” he drew back his arm and swung. mitch staggered backward, ducking the blow. before he could take another swing, clarence leapt at the boy and pushed him away from mitch. “get off me.” “calm down,” clarence said. a bullet passed by clarence’s head and shattered the bottle of skyy vodka on the shelf behind the bar. he looked up as one of the mirrored tiles along the wall split in half. he ducked then turned to see victoria standing by the door. mitch looked over at her as she fired again. the bullet caught him in the shoulder and spun him around. another bullet hit him in the chest. he fell backward into chris and

they both tumbled to the floor. she fired again, shattering another mirror. fredrico vaulted over the bar and sprinted toward the woman. victoria looked startled as the bartender crashed into her, knocking her to the ground. the gun flew out of her hand and bounced across the tile floor. she trembled in his arms, sobbing. “somebody call nine-one-one,” clarence yelled. he knelt over mitch and cradled his head in his lap. “i...i...,” mitch coughed. “i fucked up.” serena stood and stared down at them. the sound of her screams echoed across the club.