Before they could make it back to the main bar, a massive moose in a slightly wrinkled suit waved at them over the crowd. Horns had a big, toothy grin on his face as he waved and approached them. He was a head taller than most, and his impressive rack of horns made him unmistakable in the crowd. Noticing him, Fang stepped into a small side hallway, less busy than the main thoroughfare.
"Looks like you're in a good mood," Kev said, a smile on his own face from his previous talk with Fang.
"Oh, you'll never guess what's going on," Horns laughed, putting a hand over his eyes. "Rex, oh man… he's a natural."
Fang growled, "Where is he? He was supposed to come back to the table after checking on Abe earlier."
"He's… he's…" Horns couldn't contain another bellow of laughter, his massive frame shaking.
"Is he dancing?" Kev asked, suppressing a giggle, finding Horns's mood contagious.
"YES!" Horns had to hold onto the wall to keep upright, he was laughing so hard.
"Dancing when he had something to do?" Fang was not amused.
"Fang, you know what happened," Kev said, now laughing with Horns. "It's his day off. Let him dance if he wants to."
"And he tried to give me a hard time for dancing," Horns wiped a tear from his eye. "I didn't even know he knew how to do anything other than fight."
"I've heard many fighters take lessons in dance for mobility reasons," Talon said, before noticing the others giving him a strange look. "Sorry," he quickly muttered, before pointedly looking away towards the customers passing by.
Horns shook his head and grinned again. "So, Fang, on your day off, are you gonna finally show us all how it's really done?"
"What do you mean?" Fang asked.
"Dancing! Come on, Fang," Horns said.
"If you ask me again, I'm amending the rules to include no dancing by any staff members, day off or not," Fang growled playfully.
Horns sighed. "Oh, don't be like that. It's a great night. I think the club is the safest it's ever been because we've got a bright orange danger cone parked right in the middle of the dance floor. He might want to think about making it his new post when he's working. Much better than waiting out at the checkpoint."
"Oh, I'm sure he'll be back to normal tomorrow," Kev said. "Just enjoy it while it lasts."
Horns nodded and pulled out a joint from his pocket. "Well, Fang, speaking of tomorrow, have you decided on a room for the VIP dinner? There won't be much time to get things set up, so the sooner the better."
"I've been a little preoccupied," Fang said, "but now is a good time. How about it, Kev? Would you help me pick out the best location to host our guests?"
"Oh, me?" Kev said, looking up at Fang. "I don't even know what most of the rooms are."
"Really?" Fang questioned. "Haven't you explored your new home yet?"
"Not yet," Kev replied. "It feels a bit strange to just be peeking in different closed doors. I'd feel bad if I bothered any of the cleaners."
"Nonsense," Fang said. "You are free in here." He looked back at Talon and said, "Has anyone tried to impede Kev's exploration?"
Talon shook his head.
Horns said, "Come on, Fang. He's polite."
"I'm just so new still," Kev chuckled. "If I managed to make trouble for someone who's been working here for years, I'd feel like an ass."
"That's not what Max says," Horns laughed.
"What?" Fang growled.
"Oh, he's just teasing," Horns said. "Don't get your hackles all in a bunch, Fang. It makes you look bloated."
Fang deflated in a second. "It does not."
Talon opened his beak to say something but, smartly, decided against it.
"Well, I got to get back to the bar so I can laugh at Rex again for a few minutes before I get back to work," Horns said, his smile returning to his face at the thought. "Just let me know what room we're gonna use so I can make sure it's ready."
Fang nodded and said, "We'll take a look at the options now." He rubbed Kev's shoulder. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Of course not," Kev said.
"Make sure you keep an eye on Rex. I don't want there to be a scene," Fang said to the departing moose.
"Oh, I'll keep my eyes on him alright," Horns laughed and waved.
Instead of heading back towards the main bar, Fang turned the opposite direction of Horns and led Kev to the quieter east wing. There were a few scattered patrons here, but the atmosphere was much more subdued compared to the raw, carnal energy of the west wing. The air was cleaner, carrying the scent of rich tobacco and old books rather than sweat and perfume. The torchlight seemed softer, the shadows deeper and more inviting. They passed quiet groups of beastmen in tailored suits, lounging in high-backed leather armchairs, their conversations a low, intellectual murmur as they smoked long, elegant cigars.
They passed the open doors of the billiards room, and Kev felt a faint, phantom twinge of embarrassment at the memory of his ill-fated game with Pedro. Laughter, more refined and less raucous than in the main bar, drifted from within. Further down the hall, they passed another, smaller bar, its dark wood polished to a high sheen. Patrons sat on tall stools around a grand piano, their attention rapt as an aye-aye woman's impossibly long, slender fingers danced across the keys. Her voice was a smoky, soulful alto, a stark contrast to Asmodeus's dramatic crescendos, creating an atmosphere of intimate, melancholic beauty.
Before he knew it, Kev was standing in front of the private room where, on his second day of work, they had hosted Warlock and had been officially invited into the mafia's "family."
Kev looked up at Fang and said, "Is this where you want to host the dinner?"
Fang looked down, his amber eyes searching Kev's. "Do you think it's a bad choice?"
Kev grinned, a flicker of his newfound confidence in his eyes. "You haven't really told me anything about it. I don't even know how many people are attending."
"There will be quite a few," Fang said, his voice a low rumble.
"That doesn't really help," Kev replied, his gaze sweeping over the intimate space again. "This room would be great, but if there's more than, say, ten people all together, it's going to feel a bit small." He looked around the room again. He gestured towards the small, well-stocked bar in the back. "The bar is great, but… do we really need it?"
"What if someone is thirsty?" Fang countered, a growl of amusement in his voice. "I would be laughed out of town if I pointed them to a cooler full of, ugh, craft beers."
Grinning, Kev shook his head. "We're hosting dinner, right? So people will order their drinks when they order their meals. If they want something to drink before we eat, they should have some time to freely explore the main bar and dance hall. They're here to explore the club and what it offers, right?"
Fang nodded cautiously. "But there might be unruly guests. What if they are offended?"
"If they are mafia members, I'm sure they'll get over it," Kev said. "They should be able to get a taste of the real atmosphere, not just our stuffy business sit-down."
"Stuffy?" Fang said. "That is not what I want."
Kev said, "So let's get a bigger room. Something where we can all have plenty of elbow room, a big table that everyone can sit at. If we don't know how many people there are going to be, I'd rather have too much room than not enough."
"How about the conservatory?" Fang said, spinning Kev and walking towards a new door on the opposite side of the hall.
Kev was impressed. He had seen this room from outside, but never really given it much thought. Fang pushed open the double doors, and Kev's breath caught. The large, floor-to-ceiling glass panes looked out onto the moonlit backyard; Kev could clearly see the sprawling oak tree where they had just sat, its branches like dark veins against the starry sky. The room was a grand, elegant space, a seamless blend of indoor comfort and the wild beauty of the outdoors. Polished, dark slate tiles covered the floor, cool underfoot, reflecting the soft glow from dozens of hanging lanterns that were suspended from the high, wrought-iron ceiling beams like captive stars. Lush, exotic plants, towering ferns, climbing ivy, and fragrant, night-blooming jasmine, were artfully arranged throughout the room, creating intimate green alcoves and filling the air with a sweet, earthy perfume. In the center, a long, magnificent mahogany table, easily capable of seating thirty, gleamed under the soft light, its surface currently bare and waiting. It was a perfect, breathtaking space for an important gathering.
"This is perfect," Kev said, walking in and running his hand over the long mahogany table. "Why wasn't this your first choice?"
Fang followed Kev in and looked around, as if seeing the room for the first time. "It's just used by the grounds crew," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I can't remember the last time I was in here."
"Well," Kev said, gesturing at the lush greenery and the stunning view, "I don't know if you'd even need to do anything to this room. The plants, the windows, the table... it's great."
"We are not serving our guests off that dirty potting bench," Fang swiped a finger along the surface of the table and inspected it. It came away clean, but he scowled at it as if it were absolutely filthy.
Kev laughed and said, "I'm sure the cleaning crew will make sure it's fine."
Fang looked around again and said, "You don't think there are too many plants?"
Kev said, "What's wrong with plants?"
"Nothing," Fang said, "they just seem a bit… weak."
Kev raised an eyebrow. "Plants are plants. If there were just a bunch of flowers or like some random vegetable garden, I'd think it was weird, but this is great. It's very outdoorsy."
"Does it feel outdoorsy to you, Talon?" Fang questioned.
Talon, who had been slowly walking around and inspecting a particularly symmetrical jasmine, said, "The outdoors? This is much better than dirty city streets."
Fang looked back at Kev and smiled. "I was hoping for more medieval or unconventional, but I guess this will do." He slung his arm over Kev's shoulder and said, "How about we head back to the bar and have another drink?"
Kev leaned into Fang and said, "Yeah," but he really wanted to see Rex dancing more than he wanted a drink.