The Blonde
“The Hot Spot, Near Third and Spring Garden It was a surprisingly small room—almost a vestibule, in fact— whose main feature was a bunch of curtained doorways that presumably led to other rooms. Could have been the second floor of a warehouse, except for the small bar, the vinyl-covered stools, and the dark red velvet curtains hanging from the ceiling. The scent of burning candles—plain wax, not scented—hung in the air. Before Jack had a chance to ask about the place, his driver had already dis...appeared through one of the doorways.
Thankfully, the place was small and full of people. This was 3:30 in the morning on a school night, right? Yet it looked like the lunchroom at a suburban corporate park. Suits galore. Hair still neatly parted, or combed forward and razor-cut.
Jack walked to the bar, which was cushioned with black leather and no bigger than the kind you find in somebody’s finished basement. There was no menu, and he didn’t see any beer taps. Or glasses. Or bottles.MoreLess
Thankfully, the place was small and full of people. This was 3:30 in the morning on a school night, right? Yet it looked like the lunchroom at a suburban corporate park. Suits galore. Hair still neatly parted, or combed forward and razor-cut.
Jack walked to the bar, which was cushioned with black leather and no bigger than the kind you find in somebody’s finished basement. There was no menu, and he didn’t see any beer taps. Or glasses. Or bottles.MoreLess
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