Finessing It

She figured it had to be serious if Boyd was trying out a pep-talk.

The Dragon was a serious step up from the bar she, Vince and Chuck usually worked from. For starters, it was clean. But more than that, it was incredibly opulent. High ceilings, red walls, marble floors and rich mahogany furnishings. The lighting was strategically low, making the entire space feel as if it were lit by candles instead of florescent bulbs in crystal chandeliers. It was the kind of place Andy would never be able to afford drinking at in her usual life. The kind of bar that served twelve dollar single martinis and 21 year old Macallan by the bottle.

She stood in the entrance for a moment just taking it in. She felt under dressed in her twenty dollar dress and thirty dollar stilettos, but it was a little late to do anything about that now. At least the men in the room who had taken notice of her entrance seemed to be too distracted by the amount of leg, back and cleavage the tiny black garment left exposed to care that the 'fabric' had probably once been pop bottles.

The bar was crowded tonight. Andy scanned the room, picking out familiar faces and storing them away to tell Boyd about later. There were a lot in this crowd; not people she had been introduced to since beginning her work months earlier, but faces she'd been drilled on by Boyd and Sam before she'd even begun. Most of them were middle men in the organization, book keepers or, like Chuck, distributers responsible for getting product out to the large network of dealers Anton's organization supplied.

There were a few notable faces missing from the crowd, Anton Hill among them, but enough that if they could arrest the entire party it would cripple the organization, at least for a little while. She thought longingly of the camera phone in her tiny red clutch purse, but she knew that taking pictures would draw attention she couldn't afford.

She saw Chuck at the bar talking earnestly to a man she recognized as Joe Pachatti, but Vince was nowhere in sight.

"Andrea!" Vince appeared at her side. He'd actually put a little effort into his appearance tonight, a black on black suit that did nothing for him, but at least showed he'd thought about dressing up. He held a martini in each hand and he held one out towards her as he scanned her body from head to toe. "Not bad."

She ignored the lecherous look on his face, snagging one of the martinis and downing it in a single swallow. "Vince," She acknowledged him in a bored voice before turning and walking towards Chuck.

He followed her, leaning in so he could whisper in her ear. "Anton's in the back room." His spit sprayed her neck as he spoke and she grimaced. "He asked me to bring you to him. Come on."

Casting one last look towards Chuck and Joey at the bar, Andy allowed herself to be led through the crowd to a set of ornate double doors. Vince pushed open both doors dramatically and Andy followed him into a private dining room even more opulent than the main bar. At a large table on the opposite side of the room sat four men, flanked on both sides by men in ill-fitted suits who were clearly packing some heavy fire power under their ugly grey jackets.

Andy's heart thudded heavily in her chest. She hadn't seen Anton Hill in almost three years, but she would never forget the last time. He looked exactly how she remembered: smug. She just hoped he didn't have an uncanny memory for voices. He'd never gotten a good look at her all those years ago when she'd busted into his building and turned over his accounting files to Sam, but he'd heard her voice. Still, she mused, she'd hardly been a significant person in his world and, unless she was terribly unlucky, he had long forgotten about the female cop who'd been working with Sam Swarek three years earlier.

No one besides Sam knew that she'd met Anton Hill before this operation. She hadn't told Boyd because she knew he would have taken her off the case if there was even the tiniest chance that Anton would realize she was a cop. Sam had agreed with her decision and so she'd kept the rest to herself. Until tonight it hadn't seemed like a big deal, but in that moment, Andy felt a wave of pure panic wash over her.

Conversation at the table stopped as all its occupants turned to see who had entered. Anton Hill's beady eyes fixed on Andy's figure, undressing her with his eyes. It made her wish she'd opted for something less revealing. Dressing sexy for a man like Anton Hill just so she could get close to him was suddenly feeling a lot like her failed first attempt at undercover work, dressing trashy to hook johns.

"Andrea." Anton tilted his head to indicate she should take the empty seat to his left. "Join us."

When she didn't step forward immediately, Vince gave her a push from behind. She staggered for a couple of steps before finding her footing again. It had been months since she'd worn heels and the new stilettos were a half size too big. She shot a venomous look over her shoulder at Vince as she pulled out the chair and took her seat.

Anton dismissed Vince with a flick of his wrist, barely waiting for the door to close behind him before turning to smile at Andy. "Excuse him, he's loyal, but not the brightest."

Andy returned his smile. "I've been around worse," she said in her sweetest voice.

Anton chuckled. "Know anything about poker?" He asked.

"A little." Andy opted for a half truth. She was actually a damn good poker player, but she didn't think advertising that she excelled at a game that involved reading people and lying through your teeth was the smartest move.

"Too bad," Anton looked at the other men at his table. Without a word two of the men set their cards down and rose from the table. "But probably for the best. Never does to mix business with pleasure."

Andy forced a little smile. She still wasn't sure what Anton wanted with her. She'd been doing pretty well for herself, but she knew from the other dealers that Anton rarely met with the lower ranks of his organization. The butterflies in her stomach turned aerials.

"You ever seen the view from the penthouse?" Anton's chair scraped against the floor as he rose to his feet.

Andy shook her head, mutely mirroring his movements.

"You really should, it's spectacular." His beady eyes gave her body another sweep. "Although, you my dear might outshine it a little. That is quite the dress."

Swallowing her nausea Andy forced her face into a shy smile, dropping her chin so she could blink up at him through her lashes. "Thank you," she murmured in a soft, husky tone. Playing demure didn't come naturally to her, but somehow acting this far out of character helped Andy stay grounded. She wasn't flirting with Anton Hill, she was laying a trap. In reality, Andy-the-flirt was the polar opposite of the demure sex-pot she'd transformed herself into for Anton's benefit.

Anton placed a hot hand on Andy's back where black fabric gave way to tanned flesh and guided her down a carpeted hall to the elevator.

It took most of Andy's strength not to shy away from his touch. She wished she wasn't here without backup. Sure, she had her phone tucked into her clutch, but she couldn't exactly whip it out and call Sam for a reassuring pep talk with Anton's hand planted firmly against her vertebrae.

The elevator opened with a bright ding as soon as Anton pressed the button and Andy stepped inside. Her stomach churned with nerves and she almost gave in to her instincts and made a run for it. She wasn't ready. They hadn't prepared for this. She wasn't supposed to be here. What did Anton want? What did he know? "Anton Hill is not someone you want to get on the wrong side of."

The elevator ticked upwards, the red digital display above the doors flashing each floor as they passed, 12, 14, 15…

Andy drew a deep breath through her nose, closing her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. She could hear Sam's voice in her head. This time he wasn't warning her about Anton, he was telling her to go with her gut, telling her everything was going to be okay, telling her he loved her. It grounded her. The elevator dinged again. Andy's eyes popped open and she stepped confidently out into the hallway, leaving Anton half a step behind.

"Third door on your left." Anton's reedy voice instructed. He didn't reach for her again, for which Andy was deeply grateful. She'd achieved calm, but she knew it was tenuous at best and it wouldn't take much more than his hands on her skin to send her spiraling back into debilitating terror.

The doorknob turned easily in her hands and Andy stepped into the mostly dark room. The only light came from the city splayed out before her. She scanned the room quickly and breathed a slight sigh of relief when she saw it was laid out like a conference room rather than a bedroom. There was a large table taking up much of the center of the room, surrounded by heavy, black chairs. Without waiting to see what Anton would do, Andy circled the table so she was standing in front of the massive window that took up most of the exterior wall. She could see the CN Tower rising proudly over the heads of the financial district. It really was a spectacular view. "You can see the whole downtown from here," she said in an awed voice.

"I can see everything." Anton agreed.

There was something in his tone that sent a shiver down Andy's spine. She turned.

Anton stood in the doorway. His face looked even more sinister in the half light from the city outside than it had in the mood lighting of the private room downstairs. He smiled. It looked like a wolf baring its teeth. "If you look to your left, just past the Shell station, you see that block of apartment buildings?"

Turning away to follow Anton's directions felt a lot like exposing her jugular to a wild beast, but Andy did it. Her eyes found the Shell easily, the bright yellow of its sign distinct in the sea of white, red, and green lights of the streets. She mentally calculated which Shell it was as her eyes moved past it to the apartment block and her heart stuttered in her chest. She lived in those apartments: not under cover her, not Andrea Malone drug dealer; the real her, Andy McNally, cop of fifteen division. She swallowed. "The brick complex?" She asked in what she hoped was a bored tone. Her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest she could barely hear her own voice.

She heard Anton's footsteps as he circled the table and came to stand behind her. He raised his arm, brushing it against her shoulder as he pointed. "Not the brick ones, the white ones right beside them." He was so close she could feel the breath needed to form each word puff past her ears.

"Oh, yes." Andy shrugged. "What about them?"

"I just acquired them." Anton dropped his arm and took a step back. "It's a nice neighbourhood. Do you know it?"

Andy turned, her heart was still beating triple time, but for the moment confusion overrode fear. "A little. Why?"

"You're doing so well with the lowlifes down in Mount Dennis, I thought you might want to try your hand at something a little more up market."

"You're asking me to move into your building?" Andy didn't have to fake the incredulous tone.

"I'm inviting you to come live in my building, rent free." Anton corrected her.

"Nothing is free."

"Vince was right about you." Anton said, almost to himself. "No, nothing is free. You'll be working for me, directly. I could use a fresh face, and yours is such a pretty face."

"I'm no prostitute."

Anton laughed. "Of course not. I have plenty of prostitutes, and trust me, none of them are living rent free."

Andy smirked to cover a grimace.

"I'm moving you up the distribution chain." He explained. "A woman of your talents is wasted working for thugs like Vince and Chuck, wouldn't you agree?"

Andy's mind raced. Once again she felt woefully underprepared. A promotion? It didn't make any sense. Yet… what else could be going on here? She felt trapped and confused and just a tiny bit pleased. The higher she could get in Anton's organization, the more people they could take with Anton when the operation was completed. She focused on that tiny seed of excitement and flashed a smile at Anton. "I think we could come to an agreement."

Anton looked genuinely pleased and for a moment Andy forgot that she was terrified of him. "Wonderful. I have some paper work for you. Got to keep this all on the up and up, right?" He laughed at his own attempt at humour.

The chuckled Andy forced out sounded manic. She couldn't help it. This night was not turning out at all like she'd expected.

"Enjoy the view, I'll be right back." Anton said, patting her on the shoulder.

Andy dutifully turned back to the window, grateful for the opportunity to try and sort out what the fuck had just happened.

"Just one thing," Anton said, pausing in the doorway and turning back to Andy.

She half turned, raising her eyebrows in a silent question.

"How long have you been fucking Sam Swarek?"

For a full three seconds Andy couldn't speak. She couldn't even breathe. It was like someone hit pause on the entire world. When she recovered from the shock her brain kicked into high gear, three different lies bubbling to the surface for her to choose from. But by then it was too late. The three seconds were all Anton needed.

"I'll take your purse, Officer." He said, holding out one hand.

Andy contemplated sprinting past him, but in half-size too big heels, with a first floor full of Anton's goons she knew she would never make it. Shooting daggers at him with her eyes, she tossed her clutch down on the table. It slid across the polished oak surface, stopping just at the edge.

Anton plucked it up. His eyes swept her body once more. "Shame," He said in a conversational tone, "You really could have become something." He shrugged. "Oh well. We all make our choices don't we?"

Even if she had had something to say, Andy didn't think she could have spoken. Her mouth was dry and she wasn't even sure if she was breathing. Her stomach was knotted so tightly it was physically painful. She catalogued her resources. She had a lock pick stowed in her bra and her stilettos could probably do some damage in close combat, but otherwise she was completely unarmed.

"I need to get back to my guests. There's a window behind you if you want to make a grand exit, otherwise I expect you'll be here when I return." With that, he closed the door with a resounding click. Andy heard the jangling of keys and then the telltale rasp of a deadbolt sliding into place.