sir,” she said. “Would you care for a smoke?”
She tilted the tray to reveal a row of cigars as well as a silver-plated cigarette case. Simon reached up and unlatched the cigarette case, pulling free a hand-rolled cigarette. The server retrieved a lighter from the tray and ignited it as Simon placed the cigarette to his lips. He drew a deep breath, feeling the soothing smoke roll into his lungs.
As he exhaled, he pulled a gold coin from his waistcoat. Simon placed it on her tray.
“This and a scotch,” he said, “and keep them both coming.”
The server smiled and gave a slight curtsey. “Yes, sir.”
As she walked away, Simon let his gaze drift over the room. The room was filled with an odd assortment of patrons. There were the couples huddled together around the tables, but there were equally as many single men and even women sitting alone along the edges of the room. A man sat in the shadows in the far booth, directly across the room from Simon, watching the stage intently; his features were barely distinguishable in the dim light. In contrast to the man in the booth’s obvious discretion, what was evidently a nobleman sat near the stage, his jacket etched with gold thread and a ridiculous hat perched upon his head. The Ace of Spades was a melting pot of patrons with a single true desire.
The server returned, setting a glass of scotch before him. To his great surprise and pleasure, she also set the remainder of the bottle in the middle of the table. Simon smiled at the woman. He had met her once before, during a previous visit, but he couldn’t recall her name. With such exceptional service, however, he would make a better effort in the future.
Before he could thank her, the music abruptly changed. The fast-paced trumpets gave way to the slower rumble of trombones. The sound was earthy, as though it was rumbling through the very floorboards, up through Simon’s legs, and freezing the air in his lungs.
He turned toward the stage and smiled broadly as the stage lights dimmed. Everyone blinked as their vision tried to adjust to only the light from the candles spread across the tables. Simon squinted his eyes virtually shut, leaving only a sliver open with which to watch the stage. He had seen this show before and knew better than to stare too closely.
As quickly as they had dimmed, the lights behind the stage flared to life. The audience rocked backward in their seats in surprise. As everyone settled, the thin silhouette of a woman appeared, her features indistinguishable as nothing more than a black, curvaceous shape.
The music began again, and the woman on stage began to dance. Her body was lithe and nimble, and she seemed to glide across the stage. As the music built, the lights at the front of the stage slowly began to glow as well.
The dark-haired beauty on stage wore a tight corset. Her black garter belt and underwear tightly hugged her narrow waist and wider hips. Long, silk gloves rose to above her elbows on each arm, and sheer stockings clung to each leg. Her dazzling smile and diamond necklace both glistened under the electric lights as she moved.
Simon watched her dance, entranced by her every move. To the catcalls of the audience, she slowly removed each of her gloves, tossing them behind her where they fell on the stage.
A crescendo of trumpets joined the rolling trombones and the dark-haired woman sat on the stage, flexibly lifting a leg upward until it rested beside her head. A flick of her fingers detached the clasps holding the garter to the stockings. In a fluid motion, she unrolled it, revealing the creamy smooth skin beneath. The other stocking was also removed before she rolled nimbly back to her feet.
The cheers from the crowd grew louder as she crouched and was handed a feathered fan from each side of the stage. The white feathers were a stark contrast to her dark lingerie, but she moved them handily, teasing the crowd with each movement.
This was what everyone in attendance