The 18th floor of the Pearl Lounge greets me with soft jazzy music and the gentle clinking of dinner plates. Spermaceti candles sit center on the table, illuminating patrons with a warm glow. I slide open a set of ornate doors in the back, closing them behind me and greeting the table with the typical pleasantries.
I slip off my coat, throwing it on a nearby table along with my bag. Sitting nestled in a rounded booth with a woman on each side is a man who looms over the rest. His hair is long and spills over the backs of the chestnut-colored seats. Despite growing up as his daughter, I've never been able to identify his face. The woman to his left, a spritely young lady who I'm certain was around my own age or younger, gasps in excitement as she spots my coat. The one to his right I've seen many times before; she's an actress my Papa keeps around despite several failed stints in the limelight.
I slip into the booth beside the new girl, creating a perfect row of four orcas. Predicting that she was a blabber mouth, I began with the social game of playing nice and praying I never run into her again.
"We haven't met before! I'm Vignette," I extend my hand, feeling bile rise in my gut as our skin makes contact. "Your skin is so soft!"
"Noooo! Not as soft as yours!" She squeals in response.
We continue the back and forth for a few minutes before Papa shoos both girls out the door, evidently having taken note of the time. With those two gone we were free to talk business. Papa takes a sip of his mixed drink and looks down at his cellphone, texting with precision and intent.
"When White comes in," he begins, "he's got this way of fishing for information. So just be careful of that. It's going to be him and some of his annoying little fucking lackies that drink a lot and they'll start spouting shit out of their ass."
"Why am I meeting him?" I ask, skimming over the menu and hitting the service button.
"I want you to know what you're up against. And, y'know, if he likes you, that doesn't hurt neither."
I stare up at him, somewhat offended. "He threw a shoe at me earlier. Does he even know I'm going to be here?"
"What?"
After my order is placed I do my best to explain, leaving out the parts which might portray me as a sulking mess. Papa seems excited to have a new reason to hate his largest media rival.
It's not long before the man of the evening arrives, assistant in tow.
"Bruiser!" The man I recognize from pictures online to be White throws open his arms as he slides into the booth.
Just as I think they're about to hug, I watch the two lock hands and pull in close. I suppose this is how men show affection? Though, these two hate each other. I smile awkwardly as he turns his attention to me. He's tall, though not quite as looming as my Papa. His hair is a dark blue, slicked backwards and streaked with silver. His eyes are such a vibrant blue that I might find myself lost in them if I'm not careful. His suit is well fitting and charcoal gray, his tie sporting a repeating pattern of his lineage: great white sharks.
I must have been sizing him up for longer than I realize, as he speaks up first.
"Y'know, I think we've met before!" He gives me his best toothy grin.
I extend my hand in polite greeting. "I hope you've got a scar to prove it," I chuckle, only to be startled as he grips my hand with unexpected force. As I wince, his grip softens and he rubs the top of my hand with his thumb gently.
"I'm sure you'd leave one on my heart if I let you," he chuckles and winks, causing me to yank my hand back.
I can't tell if my face is red or not, but it certainly feels like it must be. Papa laughs, seemingly approving of the way things are going. I give him a nervous look, only to receive a content smile in return. I look back to White and his attention is on his companion, a young man with short gray hair and a jovial demeanor. I watch as he slaps something out of the stranger's hands.
"Sawyer, put your fucking phone away." White begins with the formal introductions. "My name's Ledger White," he smiles. "This is Sawyer, my right hand and he's been dying to meet you! He's a big fan!"
I look up at the stranger. He's almost as handsome as his boss, though he's not as vibrant or charismatic. His face is long and freckled, dark eyebags accentuate his bright green eyes.
"I'm Sawyer, nice to meet you, haha. Sawyer Murdock. Bruiser talks a lot about you! You're his little girl!"
I nod nervously, somewhat afraid to engage now. "Is that so?"
"Yup. Can't believe it took this long for us to all get to meet!" Sawyer continued. "He said you're a real cinephile."
I perk up, my back straightening and my eyes widening. "Yeah, I love movies."
"Seems like you're in the right business then!" Sawyer continues the conversation naturally. "Got a favorite flick?"
"Too many to count! Oh, uh, I don't really want to talk your ear off about it though."
I dismiss our talk as my drink arrives and the waiter gathers the orders of the other three men at the table. For Papa, a beer is his go-to. Sawyer orders a highball, though he seems uncertain about it.
White orders two lemon sours, shooting me a sly smile as he does.