Alone. Closing time at Night Moves was five a.m., but it wasn’t unusual for Pinky to find an empty bed in one of the private cabanas and sleep till noon on Saturday. It was a perk of being one of the club’s “Select Gentlemen,” a handful of members with “special talents” who weren’t required to have a woman in their company to enter the club. They serviced the women of other members. He fumbled in the darkness and found the dimmer switch on the wall. Even at full power it was mood lighting at best, which was fine. His eyes couldn’t have handled an all-out assault. His head pounded as he stepped out of the cabana. He wasn’t sure what he’d been drinking all night, but it made everything a blur. Almost everything. He remembered leaving the bar with two women. It was a typical scenario. Their husbands had been dancing with other women most of the night, and the wives were curious to find out if the anatomical rumors about Pinky were true. As always, he was more than happy to deliver.
