From Paris: The Marie Antoinette, Kabukicho, Japan:
La tugged at the hem of the dress for the hundredth time that night. The dress, or rather costume, was unbelievably short and stereotypical tacky. A French Maid outfit, they couldn't be more original? La thought with contempt, pulling at the top to cover her chest. It was useless in the end, the dress was both cut low and short and tugging at either end revealed more of the other. Though, her bottom was covered more due to the ruffles underneath the costume. But La felt exposed still, standing in fishnet stockings and heals. Her hair pulled into a bun and donning the maid headpiece, the look was complete with a small feather duster at her hip.
The only good thing that she could rationalize from this is that she managed to land herself in a fairly upscale club. The Marie Antoinette Gentlemen's Club, themed after the famous Queen and all of the vanity of European aristocrats, catered more to the wealthy and those who had a thing for role-play. Most of the women here, as La had learned, were American with a few Europeans, including herself. The place was true to its name, laid out like a multi-room European smoking parlor. Each room divided and named, with round tables and some cushions for the men to sit and have a drink served to them by one of the ladies.
La kept to the corners. Having been assigned to The Mahogany Room, the place was dimly lit with deep color furniture and a mahogany bar in the corner. It smelt of tobacco and bourbon and La had to bury her noise inside her elbow a few times to get fresh air. But she was able to move in the shadows, eyeing the businessmen for anyone who looked like Burstein. The room was filled but not crowded, most of the men sitting in the large seating area in the center of the room. Some of the other girls had joined them, helping to lit cigars or holding the drinks while the men drunk from them.
It was absurd; those men were very much capable of holding their own drinks. La did no such thing, but remained standing unless otherwise signaled by the bartender, like right now. He handed her three glass of red wine. Merlot, she observed from the shape of the wine glasses.
"Booth four," he said, signaling to the very back of the room. There were three men, two Japanese and one foreign, that she'd noticed came in about an hour ago. It was the only booth that didn't have ladies sitting around them or on their laps. La held the tray with both hands, walking across the hard wood floors until she reached the tables. The men didn't so much as glance at her when she approached.
La switched the tray to her hip and reached for the empty glasses "Pardon, Monsieur," she said, placing the empty glasses and used napkins on the tray.
She smiled as pleasantly as she could while getting a good look at each one of their faces.
"Merci," the foreign one said eyeing her. La's attention snapped to him. He was American. Though the odds of the man having anything to do with Mat's disappearance were slim, La had taken an interest in him still. She sat the napkins before them, placing each wine glass in front of the men.
"Should you need anything else," she added taking a step back from the table, "I will be over there." La pointed to the wall opposite of their booth, and then moved to stand by it. She received a curt nod from the Japanese men but a linger stare from the America who's attention La current claimed.
When his eyes were not on her, La tried to glance at the documents being passed about. It was a useless venture seeing as it all was in Japanese. To say it frustrated her was an understatement and her patience with this operation was wearing thin. Judging by their tone, La figure the conversation had turned casual and they had finished whatever business they'd originally gathered for. Great, she'd come on the tail end of perhaps a much-needed lead. La was going to take her leave, turning to go toward the bar when one of her associates dropped a box of cigars onto her tray before going to the table. It wasn't what she did, but the way she did as if La was some insignificant amateur that made the Frenchwoman turn back around.
"Gentleman," she cooed, sasyhing her way into a Japanese man's lap, "I hope our little maid has been keeping you entertained." She was a sad excuse of Maria Antoinette, complete with an overly done and completely inaccurate powered wig.
La wasn't going to rise to the jab, but the American stood and buttoned his waistcoat. "She's been lovely," he said more to her that the other woman, "But our meeting here is done, thank you." The others rose as well, including the girl, who pouted.
The Japanese men bowed and La stayed tucked in the corner until the proper formalities was over. When the woman finally gave up trying to convince them to stay, the America found his way to her, smiling as he did do.
"You must be new," he said plainly, "Come sit with me."
"I thought you were leaving?" La asked but followed him back to the table.
Her intentions were to sit in a chair but he grabbed her arm and La reactively pulled it away. He held his hands up in defense, still smiling kindly at her. "I won't bite," he said with a chuckle, "You're so tensed for someone who works in this field, relax." He took hold of her arm again and La did relax if only for her mission's sake. When he pulled her into his lap, she tried not to squirm.
"I didn't choose this." La told him and tried to make herself as comfortable as possible.
"Life chooses for us sometimes," he retorted and brought his hand to rest of her thigh, right were her thigh-high stockings end and the garter that held them up began. La all but broke the tray in his hands at his actions, thankful for such dim lighting that he couldn't see her face.
For her sanity's sake and his life, La changed the subject. "You're a regular here?"
He nodded in the affirmative, "It's a good place for clients. They tend to be more relaxed surrounded by beautiful women."
"And your line of work?" La inquired while retrieving a cigar from the box on her tray. He opened his mouth to receive it and she lit it for him and blew out the match.
"R and D for a scientific company," the words came out with smoke. La held back her cough and raised a brow.
"Research and Development?" she brushed her fingers over his hair and he took the opportunity to move his hand further up her dress. "Sounds stressful. I'd heard there was groundbreaking research done on contractors recently, some guy name Burstein."
He grinned and shifted in his seat sitting up a bit straighter. "Would you like to meet him?" he nodded his chin behind her. She heard him before she saw and La stiffened at the familiar voice and laughed along with Burstein. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
"Foster, come on, we can't have you mixing business with pleasure." The sound of chairs being pulled out reached her ears. La refused to turn around, refused to look at who she knew was only a few feet away. "Let's get a look of that pretty face, huh?"
Foster was the one who grabbed her face and turned it so that Jean got the full force of her glare. He didn't so much as flinch, but his lips did curl into the most disgusting grin she's ever seen.
"Congratulations, Foster," Jean said, "You've just earned yourself a bonus." It the seconds it took La to give her former partner a confused glare; Foster stuck something in her neck.
A/N: I promise, this chapter has been sitting on my laptop for months. Months I say! I've changed it so many times until I'm just done with it.
-CeCe