Taking Control by Jen Frederick

person into his space. Kaga is a private man. Plus, I had no idea what or who he’s doing in there. Instead, we enter at the front, bypassing the huge line. The doorman waves us in. Obviously Kaga’s people are trained to recognize certain individuals and allow them access without IDs or checklists. The meticulous attention to detail is part of why Kaga’s clubs are so popular.
    I lead the two straight to the VIP section and into a booth overlooking the first floor dance floor. The VIP section is set on a balcony at the front of the bar. On the exact opposite wall, some hundred yards away, is Kaga’s black glass one-way viewing box.
    A light flashes several times in a rhythmic pattern. “Fucking Kaga,” I snort.
    “What is it?” Tiny whispers in my ear.
    “Morse code. He says ‘don’t talk, just dance.’ I think that message is for you.”
    “So you’re one of those?” Sarah interjects.
    “Those what?”
    “Guys who refuse to dance?”
    “I don’t refuse. I just know the limits of my skill set, which doesn’t include dancing.”
    “You move pretty good in other places,” Tiny murmurs.
    “If you want to have sex, I’m your man, bunny.”
    “And if I want to dance, do I find someone else?”
    “No.” I shake my head emphatically. “You dance right here, and I enjoy every minute of the show.”
    “Come on,” Sarah pulls at Tiny’s hand. “Let’s go try out the dance floor.”
    Tiny allows herself to be dragged away. They head downstairs to the first level, where the dance floor surrounds a circular bar that has two twenty-foot high aquariums filled with sharks and sting rays.
    “I’m surprised you let her out of your sight, old man. I heard you were pretty attached to her.”
    Richard Howe. With some effort, I manage not to clench my fingers into a fist and drive it into his face multiple times.
    “I know a good woman when I find her,” I say, refusing to look at him. “Are you here to tell me you’re leaving? I didn’t need a verbal announcement. A letter would have sufficed.”
    While the cushion is too well-made for me to actually feel him taking a seat at the end of the blue velvet banquette, I sense it. It’s only due to years of rigid self-control that I’m able to remain seated. Across the way I see the light flash again. It’s Kaga wanting to know if I need an intervention. Not yet.
    “I’m not going anywhere,” he says. “Cecilia says you’re too much your father’s son to hurt her, and sending me away would hurt her.”
    There’s a tap on the table as he sets down his glass. A waiter stops by and sets a tumbler of amber liquid in front of me. “From Mr. Kaga,” he says with a nod of his head.
    “I’ll take what he’s having.” Richard tips his empty glass toward the waiter who looks at me for approval. I shake my head. No way in hell Kaga would serve Richard a drop of the famed Kaga reserve. With another nod, the waiter walks off, leaving Richard fuming.
    “This place won’t stay in business longer than six months with that kind of fucking service.”
    “You should find someplace else, then.” I take a sip, hoping the smooth liquor will ease the rage that I’m barely suppressing.
    “Aquarium is the hottest nightclub in the city and we both know it.” Richard starts tapping the bottom of his empty glass against the table.
    “Shouldn’t you be at home with the lovely wife?” I ask.
    “Sissy’s too busy puking her dinner up and washing her mouth out with scotch. Besides, the old girl hasn’t opened her legs since they invited the iPod.”
    Sissy’s had to suffer nearly two decades of marriage to this worthless piece of trash and yet she stays with him. I should just kill him. Take a gun to his head and blow out his brains. But then Tiny would be alone, and I’d be sitting in a prison cell. Money has ruined other people. It will bring Howe down too. I’ll apply a little pressure. Maybe if Cecilia was on the brink of ruin, she would leave him. Because