The limo pulled up in front of a typical brick building on the trendier side of Brooklyn. Throwing his door open, Adam escaped the confines of the car before his driver barely put it in park. The crisp night air held the smell of rain and the chilliness hinted fall wasn't too far around the corner as he breathed in greedy lungfuls, dispersing any lingering traces of Jillian's cloyingly sweet perfume from his senses. Adjusting his suit and tie while he waited for her to slither out of the car, he looked up at the clubs entrance.

The brick was painted black to match the large columns in the front. A black with white trimmed awning stretched protectively over a deep red carpet which lead up to the ornate brass doors. Two spiraled shrubs in heavy elaborate black cement containers stood sentinel on either side. The whole feel was rather elegant and far more understated than Adam anticipated. The only indication that they were indeed at the Kit Cat Club was the large neon green cat eyes which glowed down from the center of the building.

A handful of people walked up and down the sidewalk. Some in a typical New Yorker style rush, others contentedly strolling. Adam relaxed, this wasn't at all what he expected. Not that he had any experience with the drag queen scene, but he'd assumed it would be a lot more flamboyant and boisterous. As Jillian finally graced him with her presence, the front doors opened and a happy couple walked out hand in hand followed by the sounds of your expected club beats.

"You don't see anyone we know do you," Jillian asked in a panic grabbing on to his elbow as if she was about to be eaten alive, her head turned from side to side frantically.

"I hardly doubt any of the people in your social circle would be hanging out here." Not bothering to hide the disdain in his voice, he started towards the doors. The sooner this night ended the better.

"I'm glad you can be so self-ensured in your world, Adam. But for the rest of us mere mortals, we have to protect our reputations." She dug her feet into the carpet halting their progress. "If one of my modeling agents gets wind that I am here," she snapped her fingers, "I'll be off the covers and doing layouts for discount clothing." He thin body convulsed at the thought. "I want you to know, darling, I am doing this at a great personal risk," she crooned up at him.

"No, you are doing this for a condo. A very expensive condo. I am under no illusion you are doing this for any other reason than to satisfy your own greed," he snapped, jerking her forward towards the door, all but dragging her inside.

"Good evening. Welcome to the Kit Cat Club, my name is Madonna. Would you like to sit at the bar or can I get you two lovebirds a table for two?" Madonna's had a very deep voice and five o'clock shadow. She greeted them dressed in a full gold vinyl corset complete with some kind of pointy cone bra. Yellow blond hair swung from a I dream of Jeannie type do, as he...she...Adam's mind stuttered to a halt when a shapely pair of legs stepped out from behind the podium in fishnet stalkings and gold stilettos...large gold stilettos. Madonna made his six foot two inch frame seem minuscule and he was forced to tilt his head up to answer. Not something he was accustomed to doing.

"I believe our party has already arrived, Garrick Hanover?"

"Hanover...Hanover...Oh yes.. there he is." Madonna murmured while looking over her seating charts chewing on the end of a pencil. "He's over there by the stage." A long muscular arm indicated the direction. "You can go right in."

"Thank you," Adam said crisply grabbing a stunned Jillian and pulling her in the direction Madonna had shown them.

"Oh my God!" Madonna blurted putting a halt to his momentum. "I love that dress!"

"Thank you," Jillian stuttered.

"Is that a Versace?"

"Um...yes, it is."

"I have one just like it! Well...it's not a real Versace, but it's a knock off I found down in the fashion district." Madonna sighed. "One of these days I'll be able to afford the real thing. After all, a girl can't have too many dresses, right?" she giggled and playfully slapped a mortified Jillian before turning and heading back to her station.

Taking advantage of her shocked silence, Adam started off once again towards the tables. "You are so going to owe me for this!" she hissed once she regained her composer.

"I don't see what you are complaining about, it's a compliment."

"A man has the same dress!"

"Yes, and you can blog about it later, but for now I need you to shut up," he reprimanded her harshly. Jerking her against him he whispered, "This is a drag club, what did you expect? I told you where we were going, you agreed and we made a deal. Now enough of this childish behavior or you can go sit in the limo and wait until I'm finished," his voice and temper snapping.

"If I wait in the limo, do I lose my condo?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Then I shall stay by your side my darling," she replied, sarcasm dripping off her words.

"I mean it Jillian. One unwarranted comment from you and the condo is history."

"Yes, I get it." She rolled her eyes. "Just get me a fucking drink," she demanded stomping off towards the tables. Following behind her, he once again regretted bringing her along.

Finally reaching the spot where Jillian had stopped dead in her tracks, he cussed under his breath at what was unraveling in front of him. "Are we interrupting something?" he drawled. For a moment, seven pairs of eyes whipped around to him before quickly refocusing on the fray in front. Even Jillian decided to keep her mouth shut.

Adam stood silently taking in the scene. His mood, which was already questionable this evening, plunged further into the bad temper zone. This shit he did not need. Part of the reason for his success was his ability to control people. By knowing what made them function and react was how he was able to dominate any given situation. Over the years he'd perfected decoding unconscious cues that would allow him to get inside another person's head. He often predicted their behaviors simply by watching subtle shifts in their demeanor. The way a person controlled their body could provide key signals which would subsequently clue him in on their emotional state and in turn, he would take those signs and use them to his advantage. But he didn't need to Sherlock Holmes it to figure out what this clusterfuck was about.

Looking over to the dangerously pissed off bouncer who looked like he wanted to introduce Hanover to his spine orally and the carbon copy presently holding down Piskey, it was pretty damn obvious what happened. Hanover apparently opened his pompous mouth and stuck his foot in it. Glancing at the man in question, Adam watched as Garrick displayed his typical superior demeanor, ignorantly unaware of the peril he was in. The only sign of distress the asshole gave was a slight tremble of his hand. Indiscernible if you weren't paying attention. Judging by the worried expression on Piskey's face, he was regretting being Hanover's faithful sidekick at the moment.

Moving his gaze over to the third man, he took in his body language. There was no doubt he was the boss or upper management by the authority he was throwing off in waves and it made him the man Adam needed to talk to if he'd any hopes of salvaging this evening.

The catalyst must be the waitress that stood a few paces back. Adam knew Hanover obtained a predilection towards young women and this girl couldn't be much past her twenties. Narrowing his eye's, he took a moment to study her. Blond hair gleamed in the club lighting, thick and heavy. Some of it she'd piled up high and the rest of the stuff floated down around her shoulders in perfect spongy curls. It was beautiful, but off. Adam never concerned himself with women's hair, but he got an unnatural feeling looking at her golden locks. Extensions? Colored? Perhaps it was the ridiculous cat ears? He couldn't fathom a guess.

Her face was a delicate oval shape with a pert little nose and soft full lips. From this distance he couldn't make out the exact color of her eyes, but he could see they were deep set, almond shaped and light. Attractive and definitely the type to catch Garrick's attention, Adam thought grimly.

Despite the stilts she was wearing under the disguise of shoes, she was small in stature. Take those boots off and she would probably only come up to his chest, Adam concluded. A vision of her nestled in his arms drifted through his subconscious. Shaking off the intrusive image, he continued his perusal. Her physique was fit and healthy, though a little on the slim side for her body type. Still, it was a rarity for a female to have some meat on her bones in this day and age when women considered the further they resembled a poster for anorexia, the better they looked.

Her breasts were on the larger side, but perfectly proportioned to her body. The sleeveless tuxedo type blouse accented their full appearance. Unlike the rock-hard fake tits he'd become accustomed to, hers looked soft and pliable. A slight stirring began in his crotch and he pulled his eyes away from her chest before he sprouted a full hard-on.

Angry with himself for having such an adolescent response, he quickly appraised the rest of her. Full hips, firm ass which was just concealed by the short black skirt, and nice legs rounded out the tempting package. A glimpse of a black garter connected to stockings flashed briefly as she shifted slightly made him swallow a moan. Get a grip, Steel! Admonishing himself, he focused more on her body language as opposed to the actual body since his decided to act like a 15 year old boy.

The tone of her skin was ivory, but even under these lights he could see an unnatural pallor. Dark circles under her eyes indicated she was exhausted and probably hadn't had a good night's sleep in a long time. Her little chin was jutted out in defiance, but the delicate tremble of her body betrayed the courage she was trying to portray. She shuffled from one foot to the other. Uncomfortable, the girl was definitely ill at ease with what was going on. Where other women would be crying or prancing around in the attention, this girl seemed to want to disappear from it and Adam couldn't help but approve of her tenacity to stay put when it was obvious she wanted to turn tail and run.

The fierce grip she locked on the tray told him she was prepared to defend herself if necessary. She was no weeping wallflower. There was no doubt in his mind if pushed, she would go all Captain America with that thing. Her bared arms were well muscled either from lifting trays for years or she worked out, possibly both. One of her graceful limbs was marred in its pristine ivory condition by a large angry looking bruise.

Adam frowned. It was a fresh bruise. His feet shifted forward on their own accord without him consciously telling them to move. Before he could fathom what he was doing, he was standing directly in front of her looking into beautiful grey eyes which seemed much too big for her small face. Words like gunmetal, pale smoke, and sea mist on a foggy day came to mind, and yet, still were inadequate to describe the silvery orbs. As those ash colored eyes stared up at him, Adam felt a strange pulling sensation. The more she gazed, the more he felt stripped bear before her, as if she could see right through him and into his very soul. Those eyes had seen more in her young years than most people do in a lifetime and he couldn't help but hope those assessing eyes didn't somehow find him lacking.

"If you value your arm, I suggest you step back buddy," the bouncer's growled threat penetrated Adam's musings. Startled for a instant, he looked down only to realize he'd been reaching out to touch her and she'd stepped further back to escape his searching palm. Recognizing his hand was hanging, he pulled it up and ran it through his hair. Dammit! Not the impression he wanted to make. The frightened expression on her face gave him an unexpected stab of guilt.

Turning towards the aggressive bouncer, Adam marshaled himself together. Right, time to regain control and stop with the distractions. "I apologize. I saw the lady was injured and was only wishing to help," he shrugged keeping his face devoid of emotion.

"You can help by stepping back."

Nodding stiffly in agreement, Adam walked back and stood next to a seething Jillian. "What the fuck was that, Steele?" she hissed under her breath. He silenced her with a scowl. If he'd known what the fuck that was, he wouldn't have fucking done it now would he? His annoyance over the situation and his odd behavior towards the grey eyed girl growing.

"Is this a friend of yours?" This question came from the man he assumed to be in charge.

"Hardly," Adam scoffed.

"He's a business associate I've been waiting for." The contemptuousness in Hanover's voice made Adam grind his teeth. "It's about time you got here, Steele." He tried stepping in Adam's direction but was quickly sidelined back to the edge of the table by a shoulder check from the bouncer.

"Nobody asked you a question, so shut it," the huge man growled.

Deciding he needed to take control of the situation quickly before Hanover was escorted out and taught manners the old fashioned way, Adam stuck his hand out towards the one in charge. "My name's Adam Steele," he said while clamping down on the guys offered palm.

"Mike Briganti, but you can call me Mike," he answered eyeing Adam intently.

"I assume you've made the pleasure of meeting Garrick Hanover and his associate, Ted Piskey?"

"Mr. Hanover will do," Garrick corrected holding his hand out for Mike to shake. There was an awkward pause while Mike simply starred at the proffered hand and left Hanover grabbing nothing but air.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I hope to have updates every other week, so keep coming back for more.

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