Chapter 11: The Whiskey Club
June 2, 20—
8:16 P.M.
The Whiskey Club
“You’ll never be on time, will you, Toby?” King says, rolling his eyes. He sits at a table that can easily fit four. A whiskey is on the table in front of him. He’s dressed in a V-neck T-shirt the color of charcoal gray, pressed slacks, and leather shoes from Barcelona. On his right side is a piece of arm candy named Beatrice Curt, who is nothing like her name. Bea, as she likes to be called, is his date for this evening, a beautiful long-haired vixen with cherry-colored lips and orange-brown hair. Bea wears a thigh-high dress with tiny straps, five-inch heels that say f**k Me all over them, and has a clutch on her lap that matches her little black dress.
“Sorry. Time got away from me.” Toby’s introduced to Bea. What’
