Page 23 of Velvet and Valor

The ball stays put. The young woman extricates herself from his grasp like Houdini from a straight jacket.

“Maybe you should have bet differently,” she says, sauntering away.

“Aw, come on,” the man moans. He turns to glare at Axel. “Damn it, Bastian, Harlow said you were a bad luck charm, but I didn’t believe her until now.”

“For the last time,” Axel says. “I’m not Bastian.”

“Wait a second…”

The man takes a pair of glasses out of his jacket pocket and pops them on his bent, oft broken nose. He stares at Axel for a long moment and grunts.

“No, you’re not him after all. Then who the hell are you?”

“I’m Axel. Harlowe said to expect me.”

“Yeah, tomorrow, not in the middle of my hot streak. You just cost me my cab fare home.”

“Here,” Axel says, shoving a wad of twenties into his hand. “For your trouble. Can we talk for a minute? Maybe somewhere we can hear ourselves think?”

“Ah, sure, follow me…hey, who are you, sweetheart?”

The man’s eyes run up and down my body.

“Are you new here? Well, I happen to be the resident new talent inspector. Let’s see them puppies?—”

“Mr. Stone, this is my client, June. Please be respectful,” Axel says in a low tone.

“Right. Sorry,” Stone says. “I’ve been drinking.”

“You don’t say?” I reply.

He shakes his head and sighs.

“No respect, no respect,” he mutters. “This reminds me of the first time I had sex. I was terrified, it was dark, and I was all alone.”

“Save it for your stand-up routine,” Axel says, grabbing Stone’s arm. “You were taking us somewhere quiet?”

“Follow me.”

Stone leads us through a glittering curtain into a dimly lit area with soft carpeting and numerous curtained off booths. Judging from the sounds coming from behind them, more than just lap dances going on.

“I’m so sorry,” Axel says, looking mortified.

“You sure take a girl interesting places,” I reply with a shrug. He seems shocked by my cavalier attitude. “Oh please, Axel. I’m a Hollywood film producer. This is tame compared to some of the parties I’ve been to. I take it Mr. Stone here has some information we need?”

Axel blinks, and then nods.

“Is there somewhere a little more private we can go?”

Stone shrugs. “You said quiet. This is quiet. Let’s get a booth.”

Inside the booth, the sounds of passion are somewhat dulled. Stone turns out to be an old acquaintance of Harlowe’s father. So, basically, a criminal of some sort, though I’m not sure what type of venture Stone is into.

Instead, the conversation focuses solely on Moorcrock and the kidnapping.

“Nah, I don’t know his real name either, I’ve only heard whispers,” Stone says, knocking back a shot of scotch he clearly doesn't need. “I do know that at one point he supposedly worked for the state department. Some high level hush-hush shit that would turn you white.”

“I’ve done some high level hush-hush shit for the state department too,” Axel says.