Page 42 of Liar's Heart
Ender and Theo look at each other for a moment, roguish energy building between them. Having come to some silent conclusion, Ender responds, “Yes and no. I've done work for Theo before, the security setup here, for example. But we're in… connected industries, I suppose you could say. I'm often a client of his as much as he is of mine.”
Theo nods. “Perhaps it’d be easiest to show her. It's just us tonight, but I've got a suite set up for you. Should we start there or in the showroom?”
“The showroom,” Ender decides. “Then we can move on to more specific interests from there.”
“Perfect,” Theo says. “Right this way.”
He leads us down a hallway, equally dark and luxurious as the lobby. Ender's hand is in its usual spot on my hip,tucking me against his side as we walk. I tilt my face up toward him, and he responds by tilting his ear down to me. I whisper, “Is this a sex club?”
He bites his lip, trying to contain a smile. He whispers back to me, “Do you want it to be?”
“I… Yes? No. Oh, what does it fucking matter if I'm standing inside of one right now?”
The smile's broken free of all its restraints. “You're not,” he confirms, “but we'll circle back around to that conversation later.”
“Okay, well, nothing in that showroom is going to be nearly as much fun as a spanking bench, so you might as well tell me what I'm walking into.”
He chuckles and shakes his head, an answer I find woefully lacking. Before I can say so, Theo opens a door for us, and we enter what must be the showroom. Recessed spotlights illuminate the room, making the copious amount of metal gleam.
I see now what Theo meant by showroom. The walls are lined with all sorts of weaponry, along with several freestanding display cases around the perimeter of the room. Unlike Ender's wall of blades, these are arranged much more categorically, clearly set up for ease of locating something specific.
Theo seems to have a little bit of everything on display too. There’s an impressive array of knives, but also all manner of firearms, bows, swords, and explosives. Four RPGs take up a whole panel of one wall. I walk over to one display case and see that it's full of brass knuckles. The one next to it has throwing weapons—knives, ninja stars, axes. Turning around, I face the two men who have been watching me explore. Addressing Theo, I say, “You're an arms dealer.”
He pulls a face and straightens his suit jacket. “Arms dealer has such a negative connotation to it. I prefer to think of myself as more of an armorer. Though, as I understand it,you and I are in similar businesses. Most of my profits come from sourcing unique items for collectors. Our subject matter just varies.”
I nod, then turn to my husband. “So this is date night, huh? A private shopping appointment?”
“Part of it,” Ender explains. “Theo has this whole building. He's got the showroom and private shopping suites, but also a gun range and a few other setups for target practice. I thought we’d pick out something pretty and take it for a spin.”
I light up at his words. “A range day? Private range time?”
He nods. “Not just a gun range. There's archery, throwing, and some urban tactical scenario sets for simulation rounds. It's just us here, so you have free rein to play, vix.”
This is better than murder.
“I've pulled some things for the two of you already, but feel free to browse. If anything catches your eye, let me know, and I'll pull them as well. Ender said you favor knives, so I have several of those to show you, but he requested handguns as well. Do you have any preferences there?” Theo says, moving toward the firearms.
I follow him while giving my specifications. “I tend to stick with 9mm, though I do love a good .45. Double action. High-capacity magazines, if possible, both full-size and compact. No brand preference.”
Theo nods as I go down the list, cataloging my requests. He unlocks a display case and begins pulling trays from the backside, selecting guns and setting them aside onto an empty tray. I'm hit with a funny sense of déjà vu. How many times have I watched jewelers go through almost the exact same motions? “Give me a bit to pull some things,” he says. “Look as long as you like in here. Suite A is ready at your leisure.”
“Thanks, man,” Ender says, stepping up to the counter. He turns to me. “Anything you want to look at?”
I turn in place, taking one more look around the showroom. It’s an overwhelming amount of stuff, and frankly, I’m curious to see Theo’s personal shopping skills. “I think I’m good here.”
Ender raps his knuckles on the case’s glass top. “Let’s head that way, then.”
“Make yourselves comfortable,” Theo calls after us as we head down yet another hall.
The suite isn’t a far walk, but it did take three separate turns to get to it. At this point, I’m not sure I could get out of this building without some serious focus. Even then, I’d have to backtrack my steps exactly. Normally, I’m pretty good at predicting the layout of buildings and can reasonably guess alternate routes, but here, there’s no way.
We enter a room decorated in the same decadence as the lobby, with conversational seating creating the focal point of the space. A crystal decanter full of bourbon and matching rocks glasses sit on a dry bar along one wall. Ender heads to the bar and pours himself a glass, then raises an eyebrow at me in question. I nod, and he pours a second for me while I settle onto the couch. He joins me, handing out a glass for me to take. “Thank you,” I tell him, then add, “This place is a damn maze.”
He hums into his glass as he takes a drink, swallowing before answering. “By design. Most of Theo’s clientele are heavily interested in discretion, and it’s in his best interest to make sure his clients don’t know who else he's involved with. Shorter passageways with turns in them break up sight lines, making it so you almost have to be escorted everywhere you go. It also makes it easier to hide the full scope of what’s in here because it’s harder to estimate the square footage you’ve seen. There are ways to close off sections of the building if there’s a security breach. This layout makes it easier to bottleneck people where you want them, buy time to evacuate others, and regroup to handle the threat.”
I take a sip of my bourbon, enjoying the smoky burn from the alcohol on my tongue for a few seconds before swallowing, then scoff. “How stupid do you have to be to try to fuck over your weapons supplier?”
“Pretty fucking stupid, but you’d be amazed at the people who still try it,” Theo replies as he walks through the door.
