"Can I help you? Are you lost, miss?"
My guess was that they were both werewolves. But I didn't recognize them as any of the werewolves I knew (by sight, or introduction) from Alpha David's pack.
"No. I am not lost. At least I don't think I am. I am looking for The Lunar Eclipse Club."
As the quickly fading light of the setting sun shadowed my face and briefly illuminated his, I saw a flash of surprise and recognition cross his face.
"Your name is Sinead?", he asked me.
With astonishment, I answered, "Yes. But how did you know…"
"Excuse me for a moment, miss.", he interrupted, going to the metal door and opening it.
"Tom!", he yelled through the open door. "Tom!"
A smaller man appeared, barely visible past the bulk of the door guard. He whispered to Tom and the only part I was able to hear was: "…Tell the manager that Sinead is here."
He then turned back to me, leaving the door ajar.
"Come right this way, Miss.", he said politely.
I followed him through the doorway leaving the other bouncer to stand there by himself.
'It would be a boring job standing out there by yourself on a slow night.', I thought.
Once inside, the metal double doors, he invited me to stand a little to the left, near the wall, while he spoke to one of the concierges.
I guess the wolf thought I was human, as I found I didn't need to strain my ears to hear what he said in whispered tones.
"This is Miss Sinead. The one the manager is expecting. She is to be let in and out without a fuss. No club membership, no fee."
"But…", began the concierge, eyeing the large man with suspicion.
"No club membership, no fee, no problems!", he growled.
They stared at each other for a minute, then the concierge gave in. The victorious bouncer came over and said, "The manager will be with you soon, Miss Sinead."
He gave me a warm smile, then continued, "The head manager is Mr. Andrew Jackson. He's the one here tonight. He's here most nights, actually."
As I smiled at him, he stared at me. I didn't feel weird or creeped out. It was like he was staring at me as if he had only just noticed I was good-looking. The sort of action which may be an indicator of more brawn than brains.
My smile became a giggle as I noted the childlikeness about him, some sort of innocence in this man built like a mighty 100-year-old oak tree.
This apparently both brought him to himself and embarrassed him at the same time.
"Um, you need me to keep you company, Miss Sinead, or is it okay if I go back outside?", He asked still not looking at me.
"Mr…Excuse me, you haven't told me your name."
"Oh! Excuse me. They just call me Tony around here, Miss."
"Well, Mr. Tony…"
"Tony.", he corrected me in a gentle tone with an earnest expression.
I half-smiled and continued, "Tony if it's alright with you, I'll just wait here myself. Between you and me, I'm sure your friend is just fine out there.", here I gestured towards the front doors, "But I'm sure he is bored to tears out there all by himself."
Tony did a half-smile of his own and replied, "That's probably true. Well, bye Miss Sinead."
"Bye!" I called to him as he disappeared through the door.
I didn't have long to wait before a man dressed in a sharp, navy-coloured suit with a maroon tie walked up to me and asked, "Are you a Miss Sinead Ninebark?"
"Yes, Sir.", I said with a polite smile. "Are you the manager, Mr. Andrew Jackson?"
"Yes, I am Miss."
"Pleased to meet you.", I told him.
"Likewise. If you would please follow me."
He turned around and we walked past the concierge station, and the coat check, around the half partition wall that blocked the rest of the inside from being viewed from the front doors. I followed him towards the far wall, where I could tell a large bar was located.
Although this bar was carved differently than the one at The Red Goblet, and the wood was stained a much lighter, yellowy-brown caramel colour, it too was made of expertly crafted, large, good-quality trees.
But that didn't surprise me. The whole establishment I'd seen so far was very swanky. The place had a more classy vibe than The Red Goblet could ever hope to accomplish.
The small, crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling only added to the effect of the white mouldings around the tops of the large, industrial support pillars and the gold trim that seemed to run around the entirety of the outer walls. The walls had an art-deco, 1930's or 1940's feel.
As we walked closer to the bar, I noticed how large and how busy this place really was. In the corner, not far from the bar I could see the neon sign indicating the washrooms were near.
Across from the bar was a small, raised platform. At five meters by twelve meters, it was evidently used as a small stage. There were two women dancing up there.
Further to the left, I could see a set of stairs and a large space tiled with wooden paraquet squares, perfect for dancing on. That type of flooring was sturdy and could last decades before it needed to be replaced.
Mr. Andrew Jackson caught the closest bartender's eye. (There were two of them behind the bar). Right away the woman leaned closer to speak to him.
"Please get Miss Sinead Ninebark, here a drink on the house."
"Yes, Mr. Jackson.", she said complacently, before turning to me and asking, "What will it be, Miss?"
"I'll have a cranberry juice please."
The bartender shot a quick glance at Mr. Jackson, as if to see what he thought of this.
"Just cranberry juice? Are you sure?", she asked.
I could feel him looking at me.
"You could get something stronger, if you'd like.", offered Mr. Jackson.
"No thanks. I'll just stick with the cranberry."
Mr. Jackson nodded to her, and the bartender grabbed a glass. A moment later, she handed me my drink. I took a sip and thanked her before following Mr. Jackson across the floor, towards the stairs.