The King Casino is perhaps the most beautiful building I have ever seen. It stands taller than nearly every other building in the city, boasting modern architecture and sharp angles. I have to crane my neck to see the top of the skyscraper and even so am nearly blinded by the neon lights that flash from the windows in coordinated rhythms. Every glass pane has been polished to a shine. The red carpet has been rolled out under our feet and ushers us forward, towards the lobby.
As soon as we step through the giant steel entry doors – which are themselves carved with all manner of geometric angles and three-dimensional shapes – two greeters in stiff black suits intercept us.
“May I take your jacket?” the first asks Jay. Jay does not acknowledge him, keeping his eyes glued to me the entire time.
Hyde groans. “Would you tell your watchdog to back off?”
His fingers dig into my hip and I wince.
“Jay,” I murmur. “I’m fine.”
“Do the two of you have a hotel reservation?” the second greeter asks, extending one gloved hand forward.
“No,” Jay responds stiffly.
“We’re just here to play,” I say with what I hope is my winningest smile.
“Of course, ma’am,” the man replies. “But in order to enter, I’m afraid I will have to ask you to wear shoes. And I will need to see some form of identification if you don’t mind.”
All of us look down at my feet. I curl my toes under, digging them into the plush red carpet. The memory of chucking them one after the other at the boys assaults me and I blush deep red with embarrassment.
“I have her shoes here.”
Like magic, Jay produces the shoes, dangling them by the silver straps. Hyde scowls but says nothing.
“Thanks, honey,” I say, plucking the shoes away from him. Jay swallows several times and flushes. Once or twice I see him open his mouth as though to say something in reply, but each time he quickly snaps it shut again. While he wrestles with his own awkwardness, I slip the shoes onto my feet.
“Better?” I ask the greeter.
“And your ID, ma’am? Sir?”
I reach back under my bra, where my fake ID hides next to my gold credit card. “Excuse me for a moment.”
The two greeters and Jay all look away politely. Hyde just grins at me.
I finally find the ID and hand it to the greeter. He examines it from every angle but cannot find a single flaw with it. He won’t find one, I know. Ripper had it made two years ago by the best in the business. It looks even more legitimate than some real IDs. Looking almost disappointed, the greeter waves us forward with a tight smile.
“Thank you. Enjoy your time in the King Casino, ma’am. Sir.”
I’m surprised he did not ask for Jay’s ID, but neither of us question it as we slip into the hotel lobby.
The lobby is all black and white and silver, with asymmetrical couches clustered in one corner and a sleek black countertop taking up the opposite wall. At the counter, men and women in black and white uniforms answer telephones and assist the hotel guests. The guests themselves are dressed in their finest, with furs and silks and satins decorating every outfit I pass. Women in spiked heels and scandalous dresses sashay their way past us, linked arm in arm with men in clean-cut black suits and pressed white shirts. Here I can finally be grateful for the exorbitant price tag on my dress, because at least I can pretend to fit into the upper class crowd. Jay, on the other hand, shifts uncomfortably.
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HYDE: The Monster Within
Mystery / ThrillerJackie has never been the "good girl". Her entire life she's run in the wrong circles and trusted the wrong friends. So when she tries an experimental drug it's just business as usual. But then that drug leads to the uncannily realistic hallucinatio...
