An Uncomfortable Position

The man, if he's aware of our unspoken dialouge, says nothing about it. He merely gestures to his lap, encouraging me to take a seat. I consider walking out right then and there, but decide that I can suffer this particular indignity, just this once. But I plan to speak to Marco when he returns and let him know that I won't be working here any longer if I'm made to endure such things.

I force a weak smile and step over to the man, sitting down in his lap. I sit across his legs, rather than facing him, and discreetly cross my legs as I do. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, lightly teasing the skin on my arms and back. His other hand rests on my knee. "Yes, yes, you are quite delightful. Marco chooses his girls well."

"Thank you, kind sir." I say.

"Please, call me Gustav." he replies. "My associates and I are happy to meet you. We frequent this establishment often, for business meetings and relaxation. We're all merchants, bankers and tradesmen by day, though." Something about his tone sounds off, but I'm too focused on my uncomfortable position to give it much thought.

A few minutes later, he lets me go, and I go back to work. I encounter Katia behind the bar a few minutes later, when we are both getting drinks for customers.

"Sorry about that before." She whispers. "Gustav is a powerful banker and merchant. He's even richer than most nobles, or so I've heard. He's the kind of man who's used to getting his way and dosen't take "no" for an answer. Also, there are rumors that he and his men are involved in some kind of organized criminal activiity. But i don't know much about that. Still, it's best not to cross him, ok?"

I nod. That's an intriguing development. Organized crime? Could I have inadvertantly stubled upon the gang that I was sent here to find?

1. I continue to wait on his table throughout the night in attempt to get more info
2. I'm too uncomfortable to go back to serving him. Katia offers to take over waiting that table for the remainder of the night. I gratefully accept.
3. A familiar face enters the club.

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