LA Modern Noir: Chapter 5c Allison

I wrote this post about a story where I had a first chapter written. I'm trying to push on and finish a first draft in 2024.

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Thanks

Stuart

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Chapter 5c - 1,703 words

People arrived as darkness fell. Shutters rolled down to cover the windows and a starlight ceiling gave the feel of a club which had been otherwise missing. Concealed speakers began playing music straight from a nineties high school prom but at a background level.

Earl came and found Allison as the room was beginning to fill. She was on the way back from the restroom, something else artfully concealed behind the wooden end walls, and he gestured for her to come to him.
‘Hi,’ Allison said, ‘did you get your accounting stuff sorted out?’

‘Sure,’ Earl replied. ‘Look, these folks coming tonight are the other side of the deal I helped get together. I need you to behave yourself, not drink too much or ask dumb questions of important people. Try and hold it together like Tina or Denise.’

Allison nodded, her head down, eyes looking at the floor and seeing how obvious it was that this was an old dancefloor.

‘I said, do you understand?’ Earl gripped her elbow, squeezing it tight and leaning in so his warm breath hung in her ear.

‘Yes, of course. I’ll be careful. Maybe I should stay by you, so I don’t make a mistake.’

‘What? Damn it no! There’s no need for folks to think we’re some kind of Velcro couple. Just don’t be dumb. And maybe knock off the booze already. It smells like I’ll have to drive home already. Have you no control?’

‘You didn’t insure me to drive the new car,’ Allison said.

‘Whatever excuse works for you, Allison.’ Earl gave her elbow a final, vicious squeeze then said, ‘Just try to not make a fool of yourself, and me.’ He walked away.

Allison looked up in time to see him reach out and shake the hand of a woman she didn’t recognise. She was a few inches shorter than Earl, and late fifties or early sixties, with hair that was grey, but looked like it had been tinted to achieve a required shade and lustre. It glistened in the bright pinpricks of the starlight ceiling. From the way the greeted each other, and the way the conversation proceeded, it was clear that they knew each other well. Was she another part of Harry’s empire, or from the company the deal was with, or some other person invited to whatever this party really was. Allison only occasionally thought about how little she knew of Earl’s worklife, of the people he did business with. Not that she hadn’t tried, especially after the disaster of BIOSfit. But Earl liked to keep things compartmentalised, separated. Box A did not meet up with Box B. Or maybe it was just nothing met up with Allison, because how do you bring together someone like Harry and a business like NUMeat?

‘Hi, I’m Franklin. Are you with (Harry’s business name) or NuMeat?’

Allison turned to find a man a few inches shorter than here. He wore steel rimmed glasses, had pale blue eyes, and was dressed like a geography teacher who had been told to smarten up. The buttons on his collar were undone, his tie had a knot that looked like it was never untied, but just slid up and down to be taken over his head as required. The sports coat either lived on the floor, or was slept in. His accent was thicker than a New Orleans gumbo.

‘Hi, Franklin, I’m Allison. I’m not with either. Though my partner, Earl, works with (Harry’s business name). Who are you with?’

‘Oh, I’ve spoken to Earl a couple of times. Nice guy. Apart from his choice of baseball team, but then I’m a Reds fan so I don’t have much room to talk.’

‘Isn’t Cincinnati a bit far north for that accent?’

Franklin grinned and said, ‘Well, I stick with my grand-pappy’s team. It’s one that folks have heard of. But at heart I’m a Ragin’ Cajun.’

‘Ah, I’ve seen them play a game or two. Earl loves his baseball. So I take it you’re with NuMeat. It must be exciting working at the cutting edge of this new food technology.’

‘Oh, sorry, no,’ Franklin said. ‘I’m a journalist. Well, I’m a writer. Dolan hired me to write a book about the starting of NUMeat, so I’ve been shadowing him for the last eighteen months or so. But you’re right, it’s interesting. More than just the science and technology and engineering. The people involved are fascinating. You know his mother, Amber, right?’

Allison shook her head. She said, ‘I don’t know anything about the company.’

‘No, Amber Lighter the software billionaire,’ Franklin said.

‘Wait, She’s part of this?’

‘Well, it’s her son, Dolan, who runs it, and she gave him his start-up money.’

‘Then why does he need other investors?’

Franklin looked at her and asked, ‘You haven’t met Amber, have you?’

‘No, I haven’t met most people here.’

‘Hmm, c’mon, I’ll introduce you. It’ll be a blast.’

‘I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll bump into her with Earl. And I think I need another orange juice.

‘Driving, or in A.A.?’ Franklin asked.

‘Neither, if you must know.’

‘You know I’m a journalist, right? Asking questions is what I do for a living. And just because I ask a question, it doesn’t mean you have to respond. ‘

‘Do many people ignore your questions?’ Allison asked

‘Almost everyone who doesn’t carry Catholic guilt as part of their make-up, but even they quickly learn. But by then there’s something else to talk about. For example, if you take plain OJ, can I suggest getting fifty-fifty OJ & soda water, with a dash of orange bitters?’

‘That sounds like an alcoholic’s trick to create a drink they can imagine is the real thing.’

‘It probably is. My uncle taught it me, you know THAT uncle, that is tolerated when he arrives for Thanksgiving, but wasn’t officially invited.’ Franklin drained his glass, which looked like it had been a whisky or bourbon on ice. ‘But it’s not an issue I have, even being a hack journalist. No dark and inner demons I’m trying to drown or forget, apart from the normal childhood ones. What is it that English guy wrote, ‘They fuck you up, your mom and dad, they don’t mean to but it still happens.’ That may not be exact, but it’s close enough. Anyway, looks like we’re needing the bar at the same time. Let me treat you to this round.’

He’d stepped towards the bar counter and raised his hand before Allison finished processing that it was an open bar, and no one was paying for their drinks.

Franklin ordered a bourbon for himself and turned to Allison. ‘Hey, straight OJ, or are you trying my uncle’s special?’

‘Let me try uncle’s. I’m intrigued. Then you can tell me about what paper you write for and if I’ll have seen them in the WeHo Times.’ Taking such interest in someone, in a man, with Earl in the room was stupid and she knew she shouldn’t do it. But part of her was already resigned to what was to come and there was enough of her old personality left to decide being hung for a sheep was every bit as bad as being hung for a lamb.

They sat at one of the tables and were soon joined by others, all from NUMeat.

‘What do you do yourself, Allison?’ One of them asked.

‘Graphic design, when I can get the work,’ Allison said.

‘Oh, someone should go grab Dolan.’

‘You need some work done?’ Allison asked.

‘You’ve not seen our marketing material?’

Franklin said, ‘I’m just a hack writer and I looked at the stuff and asked which afficionado of 1980’s science fiction films designed the logo. Wait, I’ll show you.’ He pulled out his phone and flipped it open, flicked around the screen, and turned it to show Allison. ‘See?’

‘It’s, um, retro,’ Allison said.

There were chuckles around the table.

‘Look,’ said a woman with steel-rimmed glasses and auburn hair swept back in a pony tail, ‘our tech and systems and the like are top notch, but most of us know the marketing ain’t the level we need or want.’

Franklin said, ‘NuMeat’s current marketing firm is a place run by a friend of the owner from college days.’

‘Oh,’ Allison said. Hopes of a pitch to a company with some money behind it instead of some penny business offering to pay with exposure or a promise of work if they liked the way you handled the practice piece they’d decline, but then use the following week. A hand clamped on her shoulder, and she knew it was Earl by the fierceness of the grip.

‘What’s happening here?’ Earl asked.

‘Hi, Earl,’ Franklin said. ‘It’s been nice to meet your other half. You’ve never brought her to one of these things before. You should introduce her to Dolan, suggest he let her pitch a new design or two.’

‘I’m sure Dolan’s got people who can draw his pictures for him already without needing Allison’s part-time doodles. Anyway, we’re cutting out. I’ve got to fly up to Cleveland tomorrow, so no late night for us, especially as I’m driving. C’mon sweetheart, say goodbye to your new friends.’

Allison stood. Earl kept his hand on her shoulder. She said goodbye round the table, then looked round the room for Denise, Tina, Angie, and Oonagh. She caught Angie’s eye. ‘I’ll just go say goodbye to Tina and the girls,’ she said to Earl.

‘Just smile and wave,’ Earl said, with fingers dug into her clavicle. ‘It’s not like you really know them.’

She waved at Angie and got a wave back, then Angie held her hand to her ear, making like a phone with her thumb and pinkie extended. She gave a thumbs up. Allison waved again, and let Earl guide her out to the car.

When they moved into the stairwell and the doors closed behind them the music and talking fell away to almost nothing. So did the effect of the AC, and the heat of the summer evening made sweat bloom on Allison’s skin, or maybe it was the worry of what may be to come.

Chapter Break

Link to collated chapters HERE

Link to the short story which is the seed for this is HERE

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words by stuartcturnbull pic by igorelick on Pixabay

Any LA based or knowledgable folks who want to pitch in on local things I get wrong, please do. I've never been and there's only so much I can learn on the internet.

NB - The next, final, part of this chapter moves towards the limits of PG13 so will not be on Dreemport