002: A Deal With The Devil

Lux was absolutely empty of both staff and patrons, closed until Friday afternoon in honor of the holiday even though the owner had no reason to participate in the tradition. It was Las Vegas after all— rooms everywhere had been sold out for weeks. He could have made a killing bleeding the poor saps dry with overpriced drinks until the sun came up over the strip. The sad, the lonely and the broken often came into his establishment, after all. Sometimes they came for the atmosphere. Sometimes they came to see him, seeking a favour or looking to peddle some pathetic investment opportunity. Over the last few years, he'd heard them all.

Rick Raven sat at the Steinway grand piano, one hand idly playing a little melody that had been stuck in the back of his mind for days. It might become something if he let it idle long enough. Once upon a time, he'd written something good, something that had been sold for a fair sum of money— he never talked about those days or where the money he'd used to build his empire had actually come from. Over the top of the black lacquered surface, there were papers marked with little neon arrows to point out where signatures and initials belonged. He'd been over them several times and they seemed airtight, as bulletproof as he needed them to be to protect himself and his investments. The black Cross pen with the gold inlay sat to the side, ready for when his visitor arrived. Nodding to himself, he lifted his hand from the keys and arranged the pages in the correct order, straightening them quickly. The pile was set beside the pen and he lifted the cut crystal tumbler of Scotch to his lips, taking a leisurely swallow.

He almost felt the pressure change when she walked in through the door, appearing from the shadows like a vision. He'd told her that he didn't feel comfortable coming with her to a family gathering but that she was welcome to stop by beforehand. As her feet hit the stairs, he started to play that little snippet of melody again, adding in his right hand to play the higher register as a counterpoint, the sound almost hauntingly melancholy. He stopped when her hand ran across his shoulders before she took a seat next to him on the bench.

"That was beautiful," she said softly.

"Not yet," he replied, "but maybe someday it will be."

She felt her gaze pulled to the stack of papers next to his empty glass and then he lifted his hands, silence falling heavily around them. It wasn't ominous. It wasn't uncomfortable. It just was. Rick made a small sound, a huff of an exhale that was almost a raw chuckle as he turned his head to look at her. Of course, she was an absolute vision— hair and makeup on point as though she'd just walked off the pages of some glamour magazine. "It's a contract."

"Working on a holiday?" There was a hint of a smile on her lips as she met his appraising stare.

"Something like that." He picked up the empty glass and stood, walking over to the bar to refill it. Without being prompted, he started making her an Old Fashioned, simply because he knew she liked the cherries he added. "Could you read it over for me? Make sure I haven't left anything out?" He tried to keep his voice level, tried to keep from spilling the drink as he muddled it to dissolve the sugar before adding a splash of the maraschino cherry juice— that was his secret. Keep it sweet, mask the bitter so that it crept up later as a perfect clash.

"Rick?" There was confusion in her voice and he knew without looking up that she was staring in his direction.

"Yes, Lovely. Your name is on it. I marked the spots where you'd need to sign and date."

"What is this?" He knew she was clever enough to read it, to understand the wording. He knew the confusion stemmed from something else entirely.

"A proposal?" Turning, he held both drinks in his hands and he flashed that charming smile that lit up his whole face as he returned to her side. "I'm offering you something." He placed the drink in her hand, taking a sip from his own as he studied her reaction. When she said nothing, he felt obliged to continue. "I want a partner. In everything. It's a job, I suppose— you can look at it like that, if need be. I'm not trying to take your soul, if that's what you think." He chuckled, alluding to the fact that he'd called himself the devil more than once. "I want everything to be clear, nothing left to chance. I've gone over it a dozen times and I think I've covered all the bases here. You won't want for a single thing. Not now. Not any day soon. This is freedom, my dear. A chance to sever the ties with your family for good."

He sat down on the bench next to her again, his knee brushing against her leg. He took another sip from his glass before setting it down, his left hand going back to playing the lower register of that haunting melody. "Say something," he murmured, his voice slightly strained as he tried to mask his own emotions. "Tell me what you're thinking. Have I crossed a line and made a terrible mistake?"

Lauren-Jane set the papers down and mulled it all over. On one hand, distance from her father and his machinations was certainly something she'd longed for most of her life. But was she just trading one master for another? They'd only been seeing each other for a short time and this was a huge step. There were still so many things she didn't know about Rick. However, she had fallen hard and fast for him and there really was only one answer she felt compelled to give. Her heart and her gut were in perfect accord on this one. 

"Just a moment." She stood up and looked over the papers once more, before grabbing his pen and signing on all the appropriate lines. When she'd finished, she set the pen down with an air of finality. "My clever Raven…" her hands came up and rested on his cheeks as she stared deep into his eyes. "Of course. I mean, what other answer could I give?"