Rose stood by the subway entrace as Lex drop her off. Her figure wrapped in a simple gray hoodie. The faint glow of the station lights softened her features, but there was no hiding her sharp cheekbones and the quiet intensity in her eyes.
Lex stood beside her, hands in his pockets. The burgundy silk dress she'd worn earlier was gone, replaced by something far more practical, far more ordinary. Yet, somehow, she still managed to look like someone who didn't quite belong in the mundane.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked, glancing at him.
Lex smirked faintly. "What, the subway? You'll survive."
Rose rolled her eyes. "I mean you dropping me off like this. Don't you need me for the setup?"
He shook his head, his tone firm but easy. " I've got a lot to handle, and you've got enough on your plate. Get some rest."
She nodded.
It was a five minute walk from his house when Lex saw the familiar red-and-gold sign of Smore Jazz & Supper Club. The faint sound of a saxophone drifted through the air, soft and distant, like an old friend calling him back.
The building loomed above the street, its brick facade worn but proud. Memories hit Lex all at once—his father standing outside, shaking hands with the previous owner; his mother laughing as she tucked her arm through his dad's, dressed for a date night.
In the first timeline, it was right after he turn twenty one that Barnie had conned him into selling this place for a fraction of its worth. Stupid.
But not this time.
This time, Smoke wasn't just a bar. It was an opportunity.
Lex pushed the heavy door open, the warmth of the interior enveloping him. The low hum of conversation mingled with the soft strains of live jazz, creating an atmosphere that felt timeless.
Behind the bar, a familiar face looked up. Eddie Santos, the club's long-time manager, grinned as soon as he saw Lex.
"Lex," Eddie said, stepping around the bar. His voice carried the same steady warmth Lex remembered from childhood. "I was starting to think you forgot about us."
Lex shook his hand firmly. "Couldn't forget if I tried."
Eddie studied him, his grin softening into something more nostalgic. "I've known you since you were a kid running around wearing your dad's ties, trying to look important."
Lex chuckled. "Still trying."
Eddie clapped him on the shoulder. "You don't have to try anymore, kid. This place? It's yours now."
Lex's gaze swept the room. The polished wood tables, the dim, intimate lighting, the stage where so many jazz legends had performed—it was all exactly as he remembered.
"How's it been running?" Lex asked, his tone shifting to business.
Eddie shrugged, leaning against the bar. "Steady. We've got our regulars, a few newcomers here and there. Live music keeps the vibe strong. But we're not exactly swimming in cash, if that's what you're asking."
Lex nodded, his mind already racing with ideas. "We'll fix that. I've got plans."
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Plans? Like what?"
Lex smirked. "First, we're using this place for a music video. Rose Russo. You'll want to remember that name."
"Rose Russo?" Eddie repeated, his expression brightening. "She's the one from that soundtrack, right? My wife's been playing her song non-stop."
"That's the one," Lex confirmed. "We'll shoot here—bar, stage, whatever we need. And I'll need access to the rooftop and the guest rooms upstairs."
Eddie's brow furrowed slightly. "Rooftop? We haven't used that in years. And the guest rooms… you mean the ones your dad kept for his friends?"
Lex nodded. "Exactly. I want them ready. If we're doing this, we're doing it right."
Eddie leaned back, crossing his arms. "You're serious about this, huh?"
"Dead serious," Lex said. "This place is going to be more than just a bar. It's going to be a hub—live music, events, collaborations. We'll turn slow nights into something people talk about."
Eddie watched him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright, kid. If anyone can pull it off, it's you."
Lex smiled faintly. "Appreciate it, Eddie."
"Follow me," Eddie said, nodding toward the stairs behind the bar.
Eddie led the way up the narrow staircase. The dim lighting in the hallway cast long shadows. Bring back memoires.
"You know," Eddie began, his voice laced with nostalgia, "your dad always had this way of making people feel at home up here."
Lex trailed behind. He remembered his father leaning against this very railing, arms crossed, grinning as he told stories about the musicians and friends who had stayed here.
Eddie paused at the first door, pushing it open with a soft groan of the hinges. "This one… we called it the Disco Room."
Lex stepped inside and immediately understood. The walls were lined with mirrors. The furniture was bold red.
Lex smirked faintly. "He really leaned into the theme, didn't he?"
Eddie chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. "Oh, yeah. Said it reminded him of the clubs he and your mom used to sneak into before they were married."
Lex's gaze swept the room, his smirk fading into something softer. "I can picture that."
Eddie gestured toward the next door down the hall. "You'll want to see this one."
The Victorian Room was the polar opposite of the Disco Room. Soft floral wallpaper covered the walls, and the furniture was a collection of elegant, antique pieces with intricate carvings. A canopy bed stood in the center, draped in lace and pale pink fabric.
"Your mom's pick," Eddie said quietly.
Lex ran a hand over the back of a carved wooden chair. "She always did have a thing for Victorian charm."
Finally, at the last door. Lex's pulse quickened slightly as Eddie pushed the door open.
The Art Deco Room was everything. Sleek, geometric designs adorned the walls, and the furniture was a perfect blend of form and function—bold lines, rich mahogany, and velvet upholstery in deep blues and golds. A bar cart sat in the corner, stocked with crystal decanters, and a framed black-and-white photograph of the New York skyline hung above the bed.
Back downstairs, Lex leaned against the bar sipping his tonic. Scrolling through the photos he'd taken of the rooms and the rooftop. The light above the stage flickered softly, casting a warm glow over the space.
His phone buzzed, and he immediately dialed Benny's number.
Benny his voice groggy. "Lex, let a man sleep."
"Jason's demanding a music video, Benny," Lex said without preamble. "I've got the location—rooms, rooftop, the whole package. I just need a crew by yesterday."
Benny sighed. "Fine. Text me the location. I be there to setup in six hours."
Lex grinned. "Done. Thanks, Benny."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll bring Mikey and a four man crew. It won't be cheap. " Benny muttered. "And you owe me drinks."
Lex ended the call, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He glanced around the bar, taking in the warm, familiar space.
This place wasn't just a building. It was a legacy.
And this time, Lex was going to use it to its fullest potential.