“No, they are my guests,” said Tom “I will sign them in.”
The reception area had a white marbled floor and lots of potted palms. Tom handed his briefcase to the pretty black receptionist. Grant had left his case back at the office.
“This way guys,” said Tom leading them through an archway and down a flight of plush carpeted stairs to the club below.
There was a long bar with a small dance floor at one end and about a dozen tables at the other. Half way along there was another area off the bar set aside for diners. Grant estimated there were no more than thirty people in the club, only eight in the dining area.
“What do you two want to drink?” asked Larry.
“We’ll go back to Bollinger,” said Tom, “okay with you, Grant?”
“Sure.”
While Larry was waiting to get served, an attractive dark
