"Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humor, giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible."
― Lisa Kleypas, Sugar Daddy
For all of his downfalls, Meliodas had always felt he could at least pride himself in being a decent elder brother. So when Estarossa had asked him to accompany him on negotiations, how could he say no?
He should have known that any "business" Estarossa wanted to be involved with would include a whorehouse.
They had arrived just as the sun had begun to set, the orange sky nearly blotting out the fluorescent hot-pink neon of the clubs sign. Of all the clubs he could have chosen, it had to be one of the most run-down, stereotypical ones.
But that was Estarossa for you.
Thankfully, the cover of this book was not defining of the inside. Sure, the place had seen better days, but he had also seen worse. (A particular bar in the inner city came to mind, a dreadful place that served expired alcohol and even worse company. He had been hit on by a number of men that night, and although flattering, he wasn't particularly attracted to 80 year old men.)
Once he had some hard liquor in him the night would go by quickly, just as it always did. The moment Meliodas spotted a waitress he flagged her down and requested a scotch. She nodded, regarding Estarossa and leading them towards a booth before sashaying away.
Estarossa rounded the bend, throwing his arms out in a show of good faith as a man Meliodas was not too unfamiliar with stood up. The two exchanged pleasantries, a handshake here, an embrace there before someone else joined them.
At first, all he could see was her silver hair, pinned up like a shimmery globe of snow atop her head. Like all other workers of the club, she wore an outfit that left nothing to the imagination, her bust and hips nearly spilling over from the tight fabric. He figured she must have been doing well for herself in her… chosen line of work, no doubt dozens of lonely men, pockets as deep as their desires lining up to spend an evening with her.
She turned when the man Meliodas knew as John addressed her. His heart stopped. She was a perfect copy of Liz. From the blue eyes to the way her bangs fringed over the right side of her face. The curve of her nose, her eyelashes, the small dimples that appeared when she smiled.
He tried to stare, failing miserably as she was the only thing he could manage to pay attention to all night. He could hardly even pay attention to the discussions, his attention solely on her. Liz had never mentioned a sister - but then again, he had never bothered to ask. The resemblance was uncanny, even their names reminiscent of parents who were too unoriginal to think of two seperate names. It was possible she had a twin, a sister she was too ashamed to mention. After all, she did work in a strip club. Perhaps she was disowned?
Estarossa patted him on the back hard, jolting him back into reality. "Isn't that right, Mel?"
He had no interest in whatever he was asked, simply nodding his head in the affirmative and downing the last of his drink as Estarossa shook John's hand one final time.
He stood from his seat abruptly, Meliodas following suit and made his way towards the exit, leaving a more than generous tip for the lady who had accompanied them. He would ask Liz about it later.
They left into the night, Estarossa bragging about the deal he had just scored as Meliodas nodded like a disinterested spouse the whole while.