Beats of the Heart - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

The Halloween decorations had disappeared and were suddenly replaced with items for Christmas. He never knew how Courtney snuck it in, but he found something new every day in his parlor.
Miles absentmindedly was turning a snow globe in his hands while reviewing a song on his laptop. Danny was already used to this scenario and was tapping his foot as he was reading through school materials.
When Miles' phone rang, he paused and answered it with a frown.
"Eve, everything ok?"
There was a dramatic sigh on the other line. "No. It's all falling apart, and I need to ask for a favor."
"What kind of favor?"
"Listen, major VIPs are heading to the club. It's a last-minute thing, and they want me to be a part of it. Desmond needs to get Bree tucked in until mom comes to watch her."
Miles raised an eyebrow. "You need someone on the floor." The idea didn't enthuse him.
"Just for a couple of hours. Just walk the floor, watch drunks at the bar, and support the bouncers. Please, it will only be until Desmond gets Bree settled."
He knew Eve hated asking him to do this. He never showed interest in running The Apple, even as a part owner, and they had respected that.
Eve had always dreamt of a club like The Apple since she was a kid. When they were in college, the three of them would draw up the schematics and business plans to run it. Eve thought it was nothing more than a fantasy, so she accepted her lot in life and planned to waste away in an office.
However, Miles and Desmond wanted to give her her dream. In their fourth year of college, he had one minor hit. It was enough money to help with a down payment for a run-down building in a good location. He didn't tell anyone until the deed was signed. Then he pulled Desmond into the secret. Although Desmond was angry that he would use his money on something like this instead of using it towards the looming debt from hospital bills, he relented and helped Miles start cleaning it up.
They recruited old friends from their neighborhoods when the job became too big. Family own electricians and carpenters joined in to help, as did anyone who owned a hammer.
Miles released another hit and helped pay for lighting and then the bar. The Apple designs were upgraded twice when their budget increased, but it was well worth the costs when they completed it.
They presented it to Eve on New Year's Day, and after she had threatened their lives for doing something so impractical and financially dangerous, she broke down in tears. After going over their business plan, she insisted that they split The Apple evenly between the three of them.
And so, they all became owners of The Apple, but Miles' job was less stressful than the other two. He just needed to play music. But he knew she was in a tight spot if she had to ask him for help to run the floor. He would never let her down.
Miles looked at the clock. "I can be there in an hour. Will that be okay?"
"Lifesaver! Yes! I'll let the employees know you're walking the floor. Thank you, Miles."
Miles hung up the phone and rubbed his face gingerly.
Danny was giving him a curious look. "The club?" He asked.
Miles nodded, closed his laptop, and started to head downstairs. "I'm going to get ready. I'll be back late tonight."
After his quick shower, he stood in front of the mirror. His stubble had grown a little more than he was used to but was still presentable. He pulled on his black dress shirt, leaving the top few buttons undone. He tucked it into his black slacks and clasped his leather belt.
He walked over to his dresser and opened it to reveal his collection of cufflinks. Each was subtle, without extravagant jewels. He picked a classy silver pair, slipped them on, and chose a plain silver watch to accompany it.
He hated dressing up like this, but he had plenty of suits and luxury items to be prepared for special occasions. And because important guests were coming to The Apple, he wanted to do his best for Eve. Nevertheless, his style was simple and sleek. At least he didn't have to wear a tie.
As he returned to the parlor, Danny gave a low whistle. "I didn't realize that you cleaned up so well. Why don't you wear anything like this to dad's events?"
Miles pulled his sleeves down a little. "I like pissing Larry off." He grabbed his car keys and pocketed them with his wallet and phone. "Call me if something pops off."
Danny promised he would and watched Miles walk out the door and take off in his car.
Miles weaved through traffic, cutting it close to the promised time. He slipped into an alleyway and parked in the employee lot of The Apple, and entered the backdoor. He saw several employees gathered around and whispering. One of them noticed him and waved nervously.
He frowned. He wasn't intimidating, so there was no reason why they would be hesitant with him. He placed his jacket in Eve's office and gave them a curious look.
"What's happening?" He asked them, causing them to jump.
"Sorry, Mr. Mendez," one of the servers said with a blush. "The crazy night has already begun. A pack of spoiled girls are trying to get into the club and are giving Tate a hard time. We heard their yelling from the floor."
Miles held in his curse. The rough night was already beginning. Tate was the bouncer at the front of the club who checked IDs. This only meant that some privileged brats were trying to sneak in. And if they are causing a scene, Eve would be worried about the VIPs coming through.
"I got it," he said as he fixed his sleeves again. "Go ahead and start your night. Keep an eye out for any shady shit, and let me know immediately if something is happening."
He placed one hand in his pocket, walked out of the employee backroom, and made his way through the club to the front entrance. He could hear the screeching girls from inside the club, which was always a bad sign.
He glanced over and saw Eve glaring at the entrance. She was about to storm over, but she caught Miles' eye. He winked to let her know that he got it. She sighed and mouthed thank you.
He stepped outside and saw the long line waiting to get in. Someone else came to help Tate and started to work down the line of people, but most of the crowd lingered to watch the show. The small group of girls was still yelling at Tate. He was a stone-faced man, so this type of verbal battering didn't faze him, but it pissed off Miles.
"What seems to be the problem?" Miles asked. His voice made the girls pause and look him over. A blush crept up their faces as they saw him.
The group's ringleader not-so-subtly pulled her dress down a little to show off her cleavage. She pouted and batted her eyes, trying to look pitifully fuckable.
"We just want to get in, sir," she said in a whiny voice.
Miles ignored her. "Tate?"
"The group has fake IDs, Mr. Mendez." He explained.
"He's lying!" The girl shouted.
Miles sighed and looked at his watch. "It's late, and customers with legitimate IDs have been delayed and inconvenienced because of your antics."
She stomped her foot on the ground. "You're just going to believe him?"
Miles crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes. Now find another place to loiter in front of."
She walked up to him, swinging her hips a little too much. She traced her finger up his arm when she was close to him. "How about we arrange something?"
Miles cocked an eyebrow. "I can arrange your ass in a detention center."
She stepped back and huffed. "What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing," he said with a sigh. "Let's just say you're barking up the wrong tree."
"At least check our IDs yourself." She tried another angle, hoping Miles would be ignorant and fall for the fakes.
"No. I trust my employees here, so if Tate tells me your shit is fake, it's fake. And if it weren't, I still wouldn't allow you and your hoard through my doors. Leave, and don't come back. Ever."
The girl turned red, a mix between embarrassment and anger. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. "I'm calling daddy!"
Miles chuckled. "Please do."
She made a big show of how she was dialing the number and the phone connected. "Daddy! I'm trying to get into a place, but they tell me I'm not good enough to get in."
Her eyes flashed, and she smiled devilishly. "They are just awful, daddy. Can you handle this for me?"
She giggled. "Of course. Someone is here to talk to you." She smiled at Miles, and she held out her phone to him. Miles returned the smile and took the phone.
"Hello, daddy," he said sweetly. The girls bristled while Tate stifled a laugh.
The voice on the other line was not amused. "Listen, sir, you let in my daughter and treat her and her friends right. You will give her VIP treatment, and I expect an apology from you and the owners."
"Well, here's the thing, daddy—" he started, but the man coughed violently on the other line and cut Miles off.
"It's Mr. Flint to you." The man said in a tight voice.
"As I was saying, Mr. Flint, I am one of the owners of the club your daughter is trying to get into."
"Good. I expect my apology."
Miles laughed. "No. Your underaged daughter is trying to fake her way into a 21-and-over club. My business will not be put at risk because a child decided to throw a tantrum. You can abide by the law, or I call the cops. You can figure it out with the boys in blue."
"Now you listen here—"
"Mr. Flint, your daughter is causing a disturbance, and we have been more than accommodating by allowing this phone call. I highly suggest you end this now."
"What!?"
"Collect your daughter."
The other side of the line was quiet. "I will not let this go quietly."
"We both know you will." He smiled at the girl. "Thanks for the chat, daddy."
He returned the phone to the girl, who held it to her ear with a trembling hand. Miles could hear Mr. Flint on the other line yelling at her. A car pulled up shortly after and ushered the group of girls in.
When the door shut, Tate finally laughed and slapped Miles' arm. "Good to see you, man."
Miles nudged him. "You too. Already a fun fucking Friday, isn't it?"
When Miles turned to slip back inside the club, his steps faltered. He felt someone was watching him from the VIP door down by the valet. However, he only saw the back of suits. He shrugged it off and went back into the club.
Miles walked the club floor. The incident at the entrance was the only major problem he had to deal with, so he mainly watched the bar to help identify anyone who needed to be cut off. The club ran well, so he felt he could relax a little.
He listened to the music, trying to nod to the beat, but it wasn't his favorite DJ on the tables.  Most of his music was monotonous, drowning him with the same rhetoric. His transitions slipped a little, making Miles wince. The entire set seemed to be an unholy marriage between sloppy and lazy, but the crowd didn't notice. They were drunk and horny, so they were sated.
He frowned, however. This DJ lacked the skills to perform in front of VIPs. He was leaning against the wall, watching him work the turntable when someone approached him. Miles turned his gaze and smiled when he saw Desmond.
Miles greeted Desmond with a nod but was quickly distracted when the DJ tried another mix and messed up the flow of the music. This time it was noticeable to the crowd, and Miles groaned.
"He's getting winded," Miles said to Desmond, but it was a generous evaluation. The DJ needed more experience, especially because he didn't notice the crowd's hype was dwindling.
Desmond knew he was being too kind as well. "Eve got him last minute. He had videos and mix tapes that sounded a hell of a lot cleaner than this."
"How long has he been doing live performances?"
Desmond shook his head. "He said years, but I'm starting to doubt that."
Miles shook his head. "Get one of my guys to fill in his future slots. He's not going to cut it."
"This is not the night for this shit," Desmond rubbed his temples. "Eve's going to be pissed. Do you know who's up there?" He pointed to the closed-off balcony for VIPs.
Miles shook his head. "Not a clue."
"Agency CEOs and bigwigs—people who know music. And fucking Nick Wallace of The Lunar."
Miles raised an eyebrow, thinking about his recent interaction with Nick. He appreciated good music and compared to Discord, this DJ was shit.
Miles cursed inwardly.  He took off his watch and cufflinks. "Watch the floor."
"What are you doing?"
"Helping our girl out, Des." Miles winked and walked to the staircase that led to the stage's backroom.