Tonight, with cash withdrawn from the business Visa that Blake left with him in case any expenses related to the Wishman Spears came up while she was in Florida, Brett was in with the in crowd. The doorman giving priority admittance to VIPs was happy to promote Brett to that status for the night. Just inside the door Brett halted and looked around, impressed with the decor. Blue light illuminated the whole club, and hanging over the central dance floor was a double-helix strobe light. Pictures and patterns of light projected onto all four walls were reminiscent of Japanese anime. Surrounding the dance floor were padded benches fronted by small candlelit tables. There was a single long, sleek oak bar, but an absence of bar stools ensured that all patrons would have easy access to the bartenders. Staircases led up to railed catwalks where exhibitionist dancers could put on a show for their fellow customers. Brett claimed a table, because as a VIP he was entitled to table service.
