The Things We Crave

Chapter Six

Vincent and Brad just finished walking through a potential place in LA, California to start a new club to work closer to Tammy’s mother. It was mainly a shell of a warehouse. It is cheap, but with good reason. It’s in a bad neighborhood with more lower-class residents. The better parts of the city are flooded with competition. A club here would bring jobs and reach out to a different kind of people. The income base would be lower but so would the pay. Vincent’s plan for this club was to have all class of people come. There would be different floors; certain floors for memberships only, dance floor for regulars, banquet halls for charity balls, and of coarse bars.

Brad let Vincent handle the decisions when starting a new club, Brad handles the paperwork and finances of the business. Vincent had a knack for knowing where the right place to build or renovate, how it should look to attract customers, and find the right connections to make everything run smoothly. He has the ability to talk to anyone, I mean anyone; celebrity, con-artist, police, crime lords. He could sell a popsicle to someone wearing white gloves. In fact, he has gone nose to nose with a few kingpins without batting an eye. They tried to intimidate him over an incident that occurred at one of their clubs. Needless to say, he got a few broken bones but also gained their respect.

That kind of business, “insurance policy”, is happily accepted which is 60% of why their clubs are so successful. They are able to have high dollar clubs in poor neighborhoods with little to no competition. Security and protection that they get from the territory’s boss of a crime ring, high-class clients feel safe coming to their clubs; bringing more money into that part of the city, and the mob boss pockets.

“I just have a good feeling about that place. Before we call the seller, I want to find out who runs the streets around here. There’s no point of dropping the dime if we can’t get the mob on board with us.” Vincent says to Brad as he climbs into the passenger seat of their rental.

“That’s your department. I’m only here to look around. I trust your judgment, always have. You haven’t steered us wrong yet.” Brad chuckles as he buckles up and turns on the car.

“You should be here with a new start up anyways. It keeps you in the loop and I have you as a witness when I make these deals with the kingpins. I’m going to text Steve to help me find the guy I need to speak to. In the meantime, I guess we can go back to the hotel.” Vincent said as he pulls out his iphone.

Brad nods as Vincent taps out his text quickly.

Later that evening, Vincent’s phone pings. Steve has sent a name and an address. Julius Spade, the address was at a bar a few blocks from the potential club. Brad and Vincent dress for business then grab their briefcase, and left for the bar.

The bar, called Joe’s Place, was a typical run-down hole in the wall bar. A flashing neon open light flashed in door window. It was part of a strip mall, sandwiched between a smoke shop and Laundry mat. The inside had the bar on the left side wall, tables and booth up front by the door and along the right-side wall, a small jukebox in the corner with a small dance floor. The lighting was gloomy, and it smells like cigarettes and cheap cologne.

There was only a handful of people scattered throughout the place. Brad and Vincent walk casually to the bar and sit down on a stool. They order a beer and talk quietly about their plans with the new club. The bartender lingers at ear shot, as Vincent had hoped.  Eventually, curiosity got the better of him.

“You guys want to start a business in this part of the city. You guys must not bee from around here. I would recommend looking at a different part, maybe the westside. Where were you thinking of buying?” He asks as he wiped the counter with a damp rag.

“Properties in this part of the city are cheaper, we were thinking the old warehouse a few blocks from here. You know where I’m talking about? Down yonder west of here.” Vincent waves his hand in the direction he was describing. ”Anyway, generally more business follows us where we start a club. You’d get more business if we start one there.”

The guys eyes grow as he says, “Really? Wow, that would be something. Can I make a suggestion? If I were you, I’d get some good insurance. There’s a lot of crime in these parts.”

Vincent smiles and gives Brad a quick knowing glance. Then turns toward the bartender. He leans on the countertop and in a low voice asks, “Do you happen to know where we can speak with Julius Spade, by any chance?” He sits back and take a drink from his bottle.

The bartender instantly gets nervous and his eyes dart around. “oh, well…that kind of insurance is even better, but expensive. Are you sure you want to speak with him? You would be taking a big risk just talking with him, let alone doing any kind of business.”

Brad pulls out his wallet and takes out their business card, then hands it to the bartender. “Please give this to him so we can make an appointment with him. Our money is good and reliable, this club we want to start in his territory is not our first club. We need him on board before we even bother. This isn’t our first rodeo.” He winks as he drops a one-hundred-dollar bill along with the money for their beer.

Brad and Vincent stand, and adjust their clothes as the walk toward the door without looking back. The guy lets out a soft chuckle as he grabs the money and shoves it into his pocket. “I’ll be sure he gets the message.”