Chapter 143: Club TRIC

Monday, January 9th, Afternoon

It was a weekday, in fact, the beginning of the week, TRIC was usually open as a bar until about six, and then the barflies would be shooed out to finish the set up for the night's events. Rarely did Amy McMichael rate coming in during the day. She usually managed the bar at night and would help with the night shows. Not today, usually one day a week, she came in early to watch the midday barflies.

Amy adjusted the cuff of her short-sleeved Club TRIC t-shirt and watched how the light played off her tattoos. When she first started working at TRIC, she had none, but slowly she added ink and piercings to express herself, where before she worked in a more conservative job. Amy smiled as she saw the names of her son (Shaw) and daughter (Sarah), emblazed on her arm. With a now casual smile, she thought of her wife (Whitter), back home with their kids.

That was when she heard the door open. It was the door to the outside world, so out of habit, and safety, Amy looked up at the door. That was when she saw the Woman walking to the bar. Amy had a practiced eye from working at TRIC all these years and was good at analyzing people. Right away, Amy knew this Woman didn't belong here.

Amy nodded and ran her hair through her shortly cut blonde hair. Her mind started to size the new patron up. The Woman was tallish, maybe an inch or so over average height, the high heels helped her in the height department. Amy reflected, how could a Woman where them, she wore her sneakers, which helped with being on her feet all day. This Woman dressed in an elegant style, very polished, maybe too flawless. This Woman was also blonde, and her blonde hair was worn rather stylish; there were expensive sunglasses perched on top of her head. The dim light reflected she wore, which skirted the line between tasteful and showy. The most remarkable thing about this Woman, Amy noted, was she didn't walk smoothly, there was a hitch, bordering on a limp, in her step. It was just slight enough if you weren't paying attention, you wouldn't see it, but it was there.

Amy nodded as The Woman reached the bar. She put her hands down on the bar, and Amy noted her nails were long and manicured, not the cheap type of manicure either, there was money spent on those nails. On her left ring finger were an engagement ring and a wedding band. Everything spoke of there was a lot of care and money spent on this image. In short, Amy concluded she was high maintenance. Now up close, even in the poor lighting of the bar, Amy also noted, The Woman was in her late twenties or early thirties.

"Welcome to Club TRIC, how may I help you?" Amy asked.

"Hello, are you the manager of the day?" The Woman asked.

"I am," Amy said, "How may I help you?"

The Woman nodded, "I'm looking to rent out this space," she said.

"I see," Amy said, "I can put you in touch with our booking agent."

"You don't rent out space?" The Woman asked.

Amy shook her head; there was something not right with The Woman. The voice triggered an alert in Amy's brain, but she wasn't sure why. Something also told her that she had met her before, in the deep dark past. Amy didn't look the same anymore; she had cut her hair short, got piercings, married, and ink. So, The Woman, if they had met in the past, didn't show that they had. "No, as this is a fully functional music venue, we have someone that does that specifically, and well, it keeps us from being doubled booked, mostly," Amy said.

"I see," The Woman said, "It makes sense, in a, way. Can I speak with your booking agent?"

Amy nodded tentatively. "Sure, I'll go get her, but first, can I get you a drink?" she asked.

"Sure," The Woman said, "Do you have wine?"

Amy nodded, and reached under the bar for the wine list, "Yes, we do," she said, "But the first ID."

"Sure," The Woman said and reached in her expensive bag. She retrieved her wallet and dug through it for her ID. "You flatter me, by asking," The Woman said, and handed over the ID to Amy. Amy took it and looked it over. She was right; the woman was thirty-two years old.

Amy handed The Woman back her ID and the wine list. The wine list wasn't big or fancy; they were a music venue after all and not a four-star restaurant. "You're all set," Amy said.

"Thank you," The Woman said, "I'll have this one," she said and pointed to one on the list. Amy noted it was there most expensive white wine. Of course, it would be the most expensive.

"You're welcome," Amy said, "And it will be right up." Amy gave The Woman a curious smile, as she went and poured her a glass. She placed it down in front of her and excused herself; she was asking one of the barbacks to keep an eye on things.

Amy stepped out from behind the bar and went upstairs. She knocked on the Club Manager's open door. Once told to come in, she entered.

Chastity "Chase" Burke was wearing what would be considered one of her uniforms for being at TRIC, blue jeans, and a black button shirt that had the Club TRIC logo over the right breast pocket. The brunette woman looked up and removed her reading glasses, then smiled at Amy.

"Yes, Amy?" Chase asked.

"There's some fancy woman downstairs wanting to rent out the club," Amy said, "I left her at the bar with a glass of our most expensive white wine."

Chase nodded and pursed her lips, "Interesting, don't see much of that around here," she said, "Are you using the accepted definition of a fancy woman?"

Amy cocked her head, "What do you mean? She's like too polished to be a midday barfly," she said.

Chase laughed, "Oh, yeah, no problem," she said.

"What did you think I meant?" Amy asked curiously.

"Fancy Woman is a nice way of saying prostitute," Chase said.

"When?" Amy asked.

Chase shrugged, "My guess before our time," she said.

Amy laughed and shook her head, "You've spent too much time with Huck," she said.

Chase smiled, "I better, he is my husband," she said, and laughed, "Go ahead, I'll be right down."

"Okay," Amy said with a laugh, and then retraced her steps to the bar. She found herself in front of The Woman again, after sending the bar back off. Amy felt her Spidey senses tingling as she looked into the eyes of the woman. "The booker will be down shortly," Amy finally said.

"It's not that busy this time of day?" The Woman asked.

Amy shook her head, "No, not really; we have our few regulars," Amy said.

"It's probably crazy here when this place is packed," The Woman said, a little more knowing then her state should have suggested.

Amy nodded, "It's known to be," she said, just as Chase came behind the bar, carrying the portfolio she used when discussing club bookings.

"Amy," Chase said.

"Yes?" Amy asked.

"Whom is this Lady I'm supposed to be meeting?" Chase asked.

"She's at the end of the bar," Amy said.

"Thanks," Chase said, and walked to the end of the bar and put the portfolio down. She smiled and looked at The Woman. Amy noted it was the fake business smile, the same smile she got from Chase in the office. There was more, Amy noted, Chase had her defenses up, and Amy wondered if Chase knew they were up.

"Hello, I'm Chase Burke, and Amy tells me you're interested in booking our club," Chase said and offered her hand out to The Woman.

The Woman took it and shook it. "Why, yes I am," The Woman said.

"Maybe I can help you," Chase said.

The Woman nodded, "Chase, such a unique name for a woman," The Woman said.

"It is, but I like it," Chase said, coyly.

The Woman smiled, "It suits you," she said.

"So, would you like a tour of my humble club?" Chase asked.

"Sure, I would," The Woman said, "It's a weighty decision I have to make, and I'd like to see what I'm getting into."

Chase smiled, Amy noted still the fake one, "Well, follow me," she said and left from behind the bar taking the portfolio with her.

Amy watched from behind the bar, as Chase gave this strange woman the nickel tour. The Woman most certainly did have a limp, Amy noted. It was painfully obvious now as Amy observed her over the brief period The Woman was in the club. As Amy watched more, there were a few other physical cues in her walking. The limp had to be a result of an injury at an early age, she had seen it in her sister Shannon, it had to be a bad injury to cause this permanent limp. That was at least a plus on The Woman's side, Amy noted, she had to overcome those injuries.

Amy busied herself, wiping down the counter and glasses. The glasses didn't need it, but it allowed her to watch from a distance and not seen that's what she was doing.

Finally, the tour was over. Chase and The Woman came back to the bar.

"So, as I was saying, here is the sheet with all the details of the space, my card with my contact information for when you're ready to book, and the basic price listening," Chase said and handed The Woman the small packet of papers.

"Thank you, Chase," The Woman said, "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome," Chase said, "I didn't happen to catch your name Ms."

The Woman laughed in embarrassment and put her fingertips to her lower lip. Amy saw that the light caught the diamond on the engagement ring. "Oh, sorry, I must have forgotten to give it," The Woman said, "I'm so terribly sorry."

"It's alright," Chase said.

"Well, it's Mrs.," The Woman said and seemed to swish her left hand around in such a way to draw attention to her ring finger and the expensive engagement ring.

"Mrs.…" Chase said.

"Oh yeah," The Woman said, "I almost forgot again. I'm Mrs. Asher Wettin, but my friends call me Jessalyn," The Woman, now known as Jessalyn Wettin, smiled, "And I'll look over what you've given me."

Chase stood there stunned as Jessalyn lowered her sunglasses over her eyes, turned around, and walked out of the club.