Page 45 of Overexposed

“Pfft, where’s the fun in that?” Instead of the diner, they turned toward a dodgy, twenty-four hour laundry that was right next door to it. A laundromat that was painfully bland, beige, and had lights that flickered.

An attendant was at the desk, and they barely looked up as we came inside. When I opened my mouth to ask, Gem dipped his head to murmur next to my ear. “Trust us.”

With a little nod, I moved with them as Ollie patted my hand once, then pulled away to lead us all the way to the back of the place. He pulled out some tokens from his pocket, fed them into the machine, then popped it once.

The next thing I knew, the whole machine shifted to the side, opening like a door that led to a dim, velvet-bedecked hallway with a bouncer.

I shot a look behind me to where the bored attendant played on their phone and then back to the hall. The placement made it practically invisible to anyone not right here.

“Come on,” Gem said in that sexy hushed tone of his. “It’ll be fun.”

“I thought I was the one who was full of surprises.” At my quip, he grinned.

“Gotta keep up then, don’t I?”

“Griffiths,” Ollie was saying to the bouncer who checked something on his phone. “Reservation for three.”

When had we made a reservation? More and more, this setup seemed to be getting stranger and yet I was even more intrigued. Once we were all in, the door to the laundry closed and another door at the other end of the hallway opened.

It was a speakeasy.

Shock piled onto shock. I’d heard about some of these hidden little gems, but their locations were the kind of guarded secrets that you needed national security clearance or something to find.

Ollie chuckled as a hostess stepped right up to greet us. The interior was swanky, the music was a bluesy kind of jazz, and everything was just a little over-the-top. It took discipline to keep from gawking, but the place had a vibe that I would have loved to capture on film.

I could picture Bogey and Bacall at the bar, sharing secrets and liquor. It didn’t take much to imagine Marilyn Monroeslipping in with one of her lovers to canoodle in a back corner. The fact I wanted to look at everything kept me from paying too close attention until the hostess settled us at a private, circular booth in the corner.

The boys put me in the middle as the hostess said the server would be right over. She barely left before our waitress appeared. I’d come for coffee and she was offering aperitifs.

I was painfully underdressed for this. “Just a sparkling water for now,” I said to the waitress when she glanced at me. “Maybe with some lemon.”

Probably better to check the prices before this got out of hand. One look at the menu though, and I was pretty much planning to stick to the water and maybe a coffee. The cheapest dish on here was almost a hundred and that was for an appetizer.

Did they serve it on solid gold plates?

“Come on, Snow,” Ollie said after a beat. “You’ve done a lot of work. Cut loose and relax a little. Do you like wine?”

Before I could respond, Gem said, “She likes margaritas, extra salt.”

“You got it,” the waitress said in a sultry tone and then she drifted off.

“What do you want to eat?” Ollie asked. “That way we can get back to having fun once we take care of business.”

Right. I had some protein bars in the car. “I think I’m good.”

That answer didn’t satisfy Ollie as he scowled at me. “Are you vegan?”

“I’m sorry?”

“No,” Gem answered, knocking his knee lightly against mine. “She loves meat.”

He did not just… I slid him a look and his eyes practically twinkled.

“Good. Let’s go for the good stuff then…”

What did that mean?

I’d been all prepared to turn them down, particularly because I came forcoffee. But before I could say anything, my stomach gurgled loudly.

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