Black Bar discriminated against men, charging a 15 US Dollar entry fee. Martin paid, entered the bar, approached the counter to order a beer, and quickly scanned the entire place.
The business area was a tad smaller than House of Beast, with a predominantly male clientele. On the stage and in the cages, several women gyrated their sensual and enticing bodies to the rhythm of hip-hop music.
"Hi, handsome."
Suddenly a woman came over to flirt, pointing at Martin she said to the bartender, "Get him a Long Island Iced Tea cocktail, it's on me."
After ordering the drink, the woman eyed Martin carefully, feeling he looked familiar, she then remembered, "Is it you? What are you doing here?"
Martin recognized the woman, who had ordered a cocktail at House of Beast earlier in the night, he replied nonchalantly, "Just here to taste the drinks from another place and learn from their strengths."
The woman grabbed Martin's arm and waved over: "Sisters, look, guess who this is."
Five women in their thirties and forties immediately crowded around from behind.
The handsome bartender from House of Beast, they had been eyeing him for quite some time.
One of them said directly, "Handsome, come with us."
If he really went, would it be with just anyone? Martin knew very well, "I haven't finished work yet, I'll have to go back soon; if I stay away too long, the boss will fire me."
Martin decisively played it safe, it could be deadly otherwise.
They weren't insisting on having Martin, seeing his firm refusal, they quickly moved on to hook other guys.
Martin breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention back to the bar's dance floor, where he saw more than six familiar female faces—many, in fact, all engaged in the same activity, flirting or being flirted with.
Once they paired up, they would quickly leave the bar.
Martin finished his beer, left Black Bar, crossed the street, and returned to the entrance of House of Beast. He called over Ivan, "I remember the club ordered a batch of badges to give away to customers for free?"
Ivan replied, "They've arrived, they're in the warehouse."
Martin had seen only a few cases, and needed more examples: "Give them away to customers who come in tomorrow. Have them wear them on their collars for free beer. I'll talk to the boss about it."
Goldie was very curious, "Boss Martin, what are you up to?"
Martin merely had an idea, whether it would work still needed verification.
This wasn't the complex maneuvering he had done previously against the media and both conservative and liberal factions, using a 10,000 US Dollar prize to test the lower-class characters, including himself—irresponsible to both himself and others.
Martin went back into the club and notified Vincent, the badges were already intended to be given away to customers, so starting to distribute them tomorrow was no problem.
"Got a plan?" Vincent asked.
Martin spun a complicated tale, "A vague feeling, I need to observe more to grasp that sensation."
Last time, Martin had given Vincent confidence, and Vincent said, "You can use the club's manpower and resources."
Compared to other channels, Vincent trusted the club completely under his control more; at least he wanted to ensure his share was secure.
Martin went downstairs; it was quite late, and customers were continuously departing.
Bruce also had some downtime and inquired, "Thought of something?"
"It's tough," Martin shook his head slightly and said, "Are you busy during the day these days?"
Bruce asked, "I do civilized debt collection in the morning; I'm free in the afternoon."
Martin nodded, "Find out for me which tabloid Atlanta men like best, and try to connect with their journalists if possible."
When Bruce heard 'media' and 'journalist,' his interest was piqued, "Going for more extra cash?"
Martin looked disdainful, "Old Cloth, you're a civilized man, why are you always talking about money?" He stated upfront, "There shouldn't be any extra cash to make."
Losing interest, Bruce said, "I'll let you know if there's any news."
The club closed for the night, as usual, Martin got into his Ford sedan, observed for a while, and then drove off.
......
In the second-floor office, Vincent asked, "What did Martin do?"
The Goldie who first called Martin Boss Martin, twitching his nose, said, "He spoke with Ivan about the old black man across the street. Told Ivan to tone down the racism, to avoid trouble for the club."
Vincent nodded slightly. That scoundrel Martin was much better than his old man.
Goldie continued, "After that, Martin went to the Black Bar, and when he came back, he talked to Ivan about the badge issue."
After thinking for a moment, Vincent was clueless and said, "You can get off work now. Report to me in time if anything comes up."
Goldie replied, "Yes, boss."
......
Just past noon, Martin fetched his tools, ready to get to work.
While working on the handcrafts, he remembered the film crew in Hollywood and took out his phone to call Jerome.
Jerome had some connections in Hollywood, and he asked Jerome to help find out who that female producer friend of Kelly Gray's was, the one Andrew was talking about.
And other relevant information.
Inside the house, Elena was fast asleep when suddenly, she found herself falling into a deep pit.
In the pit, a figure with a rotting face warmly greeted her, "Hello, my dear niece."
Elena woke up with a start and sat up.
Martin's rickety wooden bed creaked and groaned as if it could fall apart at any moment.
Looking out the window and seeing the backyard, Elena felt a chill and quickly found one of Martin's shirts to throw on before heading out to the living room.
She came to the doorway and leaned against the frame to see Martin sawing wood in the yard. She asked, "Idiot, what are you doing?"
Martin wiped off his sweat and answered, "The bed is about to fall apart. Needs reinforcing."
Elena, recognizing the wood, asked, "Where did you get that from?"
Martin kept working, "The fence in the church graveyard was too dense, not good for thieves who want to rob graves. I did a good deed by taking some down."
The Carters were used to such things, so Elena didn't mind, but she frowned at Martin's clumsy work, "You work like a waste of space, not even as good as Lily and Hol. Lily is coming back early this afternoon. Should she help you?"
Hearing Lily's name, Martin thought of her nagging and shook his head. Imitating Lily's tone, he said, "Wow, Martin, what happened to the holes in your bed board, the broken bed legs...?"
Elena kicked out a slipper, "Do your work, and cut the chatter!"
Martin dropped the handsaw, brushed the sawdust from his hands, and pulled Elena inside, "All right, no more chat. Let's work!"
They didn't leave the house until mid-afternoon.
Elena was heading to the Methodist Church to help out and pick up some free food.
Martin asked, "No trouble over there?"
Elena knew what Martin was referring to, "The two sides are mortal enemies. When one side marches in protest, the other immediately follows suit. No one thinks this poor wastrel can do anything."
She pulled out her purity ring and put it on, her previous demeanor gone, "Drop me off a distance away so those fools don't see you."
Before Martin had a chance to let go of Elena, he received a call from Bruce saying there was a development.
"Come over at half past four," Bruce reminded, "the front door is blocked by municipal maintenance vehicles, no place to park. I've left the back door for you; just come straight in when you arrive."
"No problem," Martin dropped off Elena early and, too lazy to go back, headed straight to the Bakka Community.
The back door to Bruce's house was open, and Martin went inside.
As he walked to the living room, he heard noises from the bedroom. Approaching the master bedroom, he called, "Old Cloth!"
While speaking, he peeked inside and quickly stepped back, "Sorry, Monica, and Old Cloth. I didn't see you guys."