Chapter 7: Syracusa
"So, to business," Georgios suggested, reaching into his inside pocket and presenting Melissa with a thumb drive. "This contains the security footage from the club. I've edited it down to the nights Amanda worked."
Melissa took the drive, their fingers brushing briefly. "Thank you," she said, tucking it into her clutch. "And the girls?"
Georgios leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving hers. "I've spoken to them. None of them know anything."
"Nothing?"
"I'm afraid so." Georgios' voice was almost regretful.
"Well, shit." Melissa sighed, leaning back in her chair.
"Do not be so disheartened Detective, I believe you will find Amanda's killer," Georgios said, his voice reassuring.
"What makes you say that? You're hardly an expert in Police work," Melissa challenged, her eyes narrowing as she took another sip of her wine.
"I do not think you approve of my line of work, Detective?" Georgios asked. The candlelight cast shadows on his face and chest, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw and breadth of his pecs.
Melissa took another sip of her wine, feeling the alcohol coursing through her veins, loosening her inhibitions. "I think it's exploitative," she said, her voice steady. "And dangerous."
"It's a shame that you feel that way, Detective," Georgios said, his voice deep and sultry. "I would very much enjoy seeing you on my stage. You have the body for it."
Melissa's mouth fell open in surprise, her cheeks flushing again with heat. "I'm not here to dance for you, Georgios, I am a Police Detective," she retorted. "Anyway, my chest is obviously too small to be a stripper."
"Many of the girls who work in my industry go on to be Doctors, Lawyers, Pilots and I myself have always preferred a smaller, perkier breast," Georgios countered, his eyes flicking down to Melissa's cleavage. "Like yours."
Melissa's jaw dropped again, both flattered and disgusted. "Really?" she asked with a sarcastic tone that sort to hide her intrigue at his preference. "You don't like big tits?"
"No, I'm sure your husband is of the same mind," Georgios replied, his eyes still fixed on Melissa's chest.
Melissa bristled at the mention of Tom but didn't respond. Instead she took another sip of her wine, feeling the warmth spread through her body. The conversation flowed easily after that, Georgios regaling her with stories of his travels, his voice a captivating rumble. Melissa found herself laughing, genuinely enjoying his company. She forgot, for a moment, why she was there.
After dessert, Georgios suggested they take a walk. The night air was cool, but Melissa barely noticed, her blood still heated from the wine and Georgios' presence. They strolled seemingly aimlessly until they reached an intersection that Melissa recognised.
She realised they were near Georgios' club. He led her down a narrow alleyway, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the brick walls. At the end of the alley, there was a door, unmarked except for a small camera mounted above it. Georgios pressed a button next to the door, and after a moment, a voice crackled through a speaker.
"Georgios," the voice said, recognition evident in its tone.