“And, Aster—I haven’t forgotten you either.” Ira slipped two fingers into his shirt pocket, retrieving a check he passed on to Aster.
Tommy leaned closer, straining to see the amount. He counted a whole lot of zeros that made Aster gasp and slap a hand over her mouth. “Thank you,” she mumbled. “Omigod, thank you!” She spoke behind trembling fingers.
“Oh, and, Layla, it’s not contest related, but since you’re here—” He fished his fingers back into his pocket and handed her a check. “Will you pass this on to your dad? Can’t wait to see what he comes up with.”
Layla gazed at the check with widened eyes and a conflicted look, as Ira rubbed his hands together and said, “What do you say we celebrate with champagne? Tommy, can you assist?”
Tommy hesitated. Surely Ira knew the Vesper didn’t offer champagne. Theirs was a hard-drinking crowd.
Ira laughed—a seemingly genuine laugh, not practiced or forced, which made it all the more rare. “I managed to sneak a bottle out of Night for Night when the cops weren’t looking. Seems the whole club is evidence.”
Ira’s casual mention of the crime struck Tommy as crass, especially after all they’d been through because of it. But then, Ira was hardly the sentimental type, and Tommy had better get used to it if he was going to continue to work for him.
Tommy reached onto the shelf, but there were no flutes, so beer mugs would have to suffice. Pinching the glasses between his fingers, he started to make for the tables, when Ira leaned toward him and said, “Just wanted you to know, you have nothing to worry about.”
Tommy paused, not exactly following.
“They won’t come after you. I’ve taken care of the evidence.”
Tommy glanced at Layla and Aster, both of them lost in thought, before returning to Ira. “What evidence?”
“The security video showing you standing right outside Night for Night just seconds after Madison went in.” Ira clutched the chilled bottle by the neck and held it between them. “It’s handled. Luckily, I had enough time to delete that part before the cops seized it. Now they’ll never know you were there.”
“But I’m innocent!” Tommy’s voice cracked. He sounded as frantic and perplexed as he felt. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“Of course not.” Ira shot him a look that wasn’t at all convincing. “Look, I’m on your side. I think my actions prove that. Point is, now you won’t have to defend yourself to anyone else.”
So there it was—Ira being paternal and looking after his son without even realizing. Tommy was tempted to tell him and shock Ira as much as he’d just shocked Tommy. After all, Ira had destroyed evidence on his behalf. They were in this together.
“Ira,” he started, but Ira was already heading back to the table, giving Tommy no choice but to follow.
“So—what do you say?” Ira’s gaze moved among them. “Are you ready to officially join the Unrivaled Nightlife team?”
Layla was the first to accept, which struck Tommy as strange. He figured she’d tell him to stick it, or worse. He wondered if it had anything to do with the check.
Ira looked pointedly at Tommy, and, just like Layla, he reluctantly agreed. Glad he hadn’t revealed himself. The day would come soon enough.
Aster was the last to respo
nd. Tommy watched as her face played host to an array of emotions as she stared at the check in her hands. Maybe she was worried about being an accessory to Ryan’s crime—maybe her reluctance had something to do with the DVD, and whatever it was she was about to reveal before Ira interrupted her and ushered them all inside—all Tommy knew for sure was she hesitated so long, Ira had to prod for the answer.
She curled the check until it fit snugly into her palm and folded her fingers around it. “Of course.” She arranged her face into her head-shot grin. “Guess I’m a little flustered. I wasn’t sure I’d win. Tommy was tough to beat.” Her smile grew wider, a toothpaste commercial in the making. Though Tommy couldn’t help but notice the way her gaze dimmed, her lips twitched, when her gaze met Ira’s.
Had something happened between them? Before Tommy could ponder too long, the sudden pounding of fists slamming metal interrupted his thoughts.
“Open up—LAPD!” a voice boomed from the other side of the door.
Tommy froze, unsure what to do, but Ira remained as cool and composed as ever.
“What do you say we toss the drinks as I slowly make my way to the door?” He shot them each a look that had them racing behind the bar, pouring the expensive champagne down the drain, and shoving their glasses in the dishwasher, before rushing back to the table as though nothing had happened.
“What can I do for you?” Ira cracked the door.
Detective Larsen squinted past Ira’s shoulder. “We’re looking for Aster Amirpour.”
Tommy instinctively reached for Aster. She’d gone cold, shaky, and totally unresponsive at the shock of hearing her name.
“What’s this about?” Ira stood his ground, did his best to delay. Buying Aster just enough time to reach into her purse, retrieve a package, and thrust it at Tommy.