Cocoa Remix

Chapter Nine: Truly's Place

Avery blinked at the door, then looked over at James, who had a slow smile crawling across his face.

James stepped forward and knocked on the door in a familiar staccato shave and a haircut, two bits knocking pattern associated colloquially with secret, possibly seedy places of ill repute. After a moment, there was  a scraping sound as the smaller door opened, and a pair of stern looking eyes framed by thick, black eyebrows peered out at them.

“Password?” a rumbling voice came, slightly muffled by the door that still separated them.

“Hammerfish,” James replied easily. Avery snorted, though her expression fell when the stern pair of eyes shifted from James to her.

When the little door slid shut again without another word, Avery eyed her companion a bit; James looked a tad nervous himself. They both seemed to be wondering the same thing; had he gotten the password wrong? Avery had always thought that the joke was supposed to be that people really liked to use the word ‘swordfish’ as a password. But, even if he had gotten it wrong would a restaurant really turn away paying customers?

Before either of them could say anything, the door creaked open. A thick necked man in an overlong, loose fitting pinstriped zoot suit held the door open for them, and motioned with his other hand for them to hurry along inside. He pushed the fedora that had been pulled down over his forehead up a bit as he looked back and forth, then stepped back into the small storage space where Avery and James were now standing. Around them were shelves stacked with bags of grain, and barrels marked ‘salted herring.’

“Evenin’ folks.” the would-be gangster host said, tipping his hat forward again as the door shut behind him. “This your first time at Truly’s?”

“Yes. We have a reservation for 7:30.” James said, obviously enjoying this bit of theater as he was grinning from ear to ear.

Avery was also enjoying herself, and was excited to see what the rest of this speakeasy themed establishment was going to be like. She’d told James before how she’d already been to a few of the more colorful themed restaurants and bars in the city - including the Ninja Restobar and the Mad Science Tapas Emporium. It felt good knowing that he not only remembered her love of kitsch, but was actively encouraging it.

“Mr. Popplewell, is it?”  the host asked as he pulled a small notebook from his jacket pocket and flipped through it. “I gotchu.”

The host opened up a panel that was hidden behind a framed picture of a dog with a duck in its mouth, and pressed a big red button that made a loud buzzing sound on contact. A section of the wall that the frame was on swung back, and revealed the decadent, gilded age tavern-c*m-restaurant, which was bustling with activity. Avery’s eyes lit up as she took it in.

The owners must have invested heavily in soundproofing, because the raucous noise that greeted them as the secret door swung open nearly made Avery take a step back. There was a live jazz band playing on a small stage off to the right, to which several couples were dancing. To the left was a pair of dart boards; also on the left, but toward the back, was a pool table where two men were already taking turns making shots.

The central bar at the back of the space was a long, curved dark oak affair that was fronted with the same copper ceiling tiles that adorned the ceiling - which glittered in the reflected, moody light of a crystal chandelier that was hung just slightly off-kilter. On purpose, Avery suspected - to add to the whimsical nature of the place.

“Ginny will take care of you from here,” their host said, as a woman in a gold fringed dress shimmied toward them, her dark hair cut into a smooth, round bob over which she wore a headband with a single, long plume that was dipped in gold at the end to match her dress.

“Welcome to Truly’s Place,” Ginny said, leading them over to a small table near the bar. “A little birdy told me that you two ain’t been ‘ere before, so let me give you the lay of the land.”

After they took their seats - James pushing Avery’s chair in for her as she sat down, clearly wanting to turn on the charm - Ginny gave them a thorough breakdown of the menu, and even made a few recommendations. 

“Your welcome to dance as much as you like, but don’t let the pool sharks get’cha. The lot ‘ere tonight are on the slick side, if you catch my meanin’.” Ginny said, rounding out her presentation. “I’ll be back with your drinks. Just holler if you need anything in the meantime.”

After Ginny shimmied over to the bar to place their drinks order, Avery looked up from her menu and caught James looking at her. She’d just decided what she was going to order, but it looked like James had finished - as he’d closed his menu and set it to the side.

“Something on your mind?” she asked.

“Ah, well...just so you know… I can’t dance.” James said, glancing over in the direction of the dance floor and the band, who were taking a break - giving the patrons a chance to talk without having to shout. “Really can’t dance, not just sort of can’t dance. I’m terrible at it.”

Avery laughed, and shook her head. “Neither can I, not like that anyway. Thank god, I was worried you were going to ask me to jive or something, and I’d make us both look dumb.”

“Didn’t you grow up dancing ballet or something? Pointe shoes and the Nutcracker and all?” James said in a tone of surprise. “I thought you’d be a natural.”

“Ballet isn’t like other forms of dance.” Avery said, shrugging a bit. “And besides, being tall, thin, flexible was really the extent of my ballet talent. I didn’t have the rhythm, high arches, or grace required to go farther, but it certainly did help me stay in shape through university, when I discovered yoga.”

James nodded at this, “I tried that hot yoga stuff once. Honestly, I thought I was going to sweat to death. I’ll just be sticking with the lifting of heavy things.”

Avery snorted a bit, “Like that doesn’t make you sweat?”

“Plenty of things make me sweat.” James said, bringing his voice low and looking her right in the eye.

Avery smirked, and was about to open her mouth and make a very bold response when Ginny returned with their drinks. The waitress, not having been privy to their conversation, stepped up and set their drinks down in the middle of the table, breaking their eye contact.

“Here you go. Now, have we decided on dinner yet…?” Ginny asked, smiling the practiced, pleasant smile that was the hallmark of longtime wait staff. It said friendly, but also disarming, and charming, but not flirty. Flirting with someone’s Valentine’s Day date was a quick recipe for low tips, or even a cat fight. Holidays had a tendency to bring out the worst in some people.

The moment passed, for the second time that night, as they placed their meal orders. Ginny retreated to attend the neighboring table, and Avery tucked a strand of loose hair back behind her ear. Feeling a bit stymied, she found herself stirring her drink with its long garnish pick while trying to figure out how to get the moment back without being too obvious about it.

James had leaned back in his chair as he drank deeply from his glass of thick, dark beer. Avery peeked up at him from under her eyelashes, drinking in his relaxed posture along with her gin and tonic. He did look like he lifted weights, but he wasn’t a bodybuilder. It was hard to devote a lot of time to the gym when you worked as much as they did, but she wasn’t really into the bronzed and beefy look anyway.

There was a gym in their office, but Avery barely got to spend half an hour in there once a week. It was somehow easier to make herself go to drop in yoga or kickboxing classes, even if she had to pay for them out of pocket, rather than make use of the free and open gym that work provided them with. It said a lot that even though the gym was there, it was nearly always empty when she went. She doubted that she was alone in feeling that the gym shouldn’t feel like work - and that working out at work might contribute to stress rather than relieve it. She also couldn’t help but feel that their corporate overlords only put a gym in the office in order to encourage their worker bees to spend as much time at the office as possible, which left a bit of a sour taste in her mouth.

James finished taking his long draft, and placed the glass on the table in front of him. After wiping at his mouth with the white napkin, he spoke up over the sound of the band, who had just started up again.

“Ava, are you any good at darts?”

Avery perked up at this, a small smile quirking the corners of her pink lips.

“Why don’t we find out?”