The interruption was soon over. Watching the men being dragged away, Job found he was no longer in the mood to continue performing.
He adjusted his headphones in preparation for the next act, then went backstage to applause from the crowd.
A little later, back in his original outfit, Job returned to the booth. Everyone greeted him with high fives.
—Man, you really surprised me tonight. I wasn't expecting that. I loved the show —Ethan said, leaning back on the sofa and stubbing out his cigarette.
Job took a cigarette and replied proudly:
—Welcome to New York, bitch.
They enjoyed the lively atmosphere for a while longer before Job winked at Ethan. He understood immediately. Picking up the glass in front of him, he drained it without hesitation. The liquor burned his throat, but he didn't flinch. Then he leaned confidently toward the woman beside him.
Madison was a blonde with long, wavy hair and an impressive figure. Her tight dress accentuated her ample chest, and the attention she attracted only seemed to heighten her allure. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and curiosity. Over the pounding music, Ethan cupped a hand beside his mouth and whispered into her ear.
—Want to keep the party going somewhere else?
Madison hesitated.
—I came with two friends.
Ethan sighed softly, thinking the night might lead nowhere, but Madison wasn't ready to let him give up. With a subtle, teasing gesture, she lightly traced her fingertips along his thigh, a playful smile forming on her lips. She leaned closer, bringing her warmth against him, and spoke just loudly enough to be heard over the music.
—Giving up that easily? I could make your night a lot better… if you play your cards right. Think you can handle all three of us?
Ethan's eyes gleamed at the challenge. He slowly turned toward the two women sitting beside her.
The first, a striking blonde named Amber, wore a fitted dress covered in gold sequins that complemented her fair skin. Its plunging neckline framed her generous bust as she toyed with a glass, a mischievous smile on her face.
Beside her sat Vanessa, a brunette with long, slender legs and a short skirt that left little to the imagination. A fitted blouse outlined her sculpted figure and narrow waist. Her sharp, playful eyes made it clear that she was willing to join in.
Both women looked at him, then leaned toward each other and shared a slow kiss. Ethan's mouth curved into a crooked smile, his gaze sharpening with interest.
Without hesitation, he emptied his glass in one swallow and answered, a challenge in his eyes and a broad grin on his face.
—Two against one… I think I can handle that.
Ethan returned to Job's apartment with all three women, each carrying an air of excitement and desire. The lingering energy of the club added to the anticipation between them.
They went straight to the room Job had given him. Madison was the first to remove her coat, moving with a deliberate sensuality that immediately caught Ethan's attention. Amber and Vanessa followed, revealing their close-fitting outfits. Expectation filled the room.
The three women surrounded him, their glances and movements drawing him into a teasing exchange. Madison whispered softly and ran a hand over his chest. Amber moved closer, brushing against him with a gentle, suggestive touch. Vanessa joined them, her hands moving confidently as the tension between them grew.
Ethan let himself be drawn in, every touch and whisper intensifying the moment. They moved together, each caress deepening their desire. Soft laughter and murmurs of pleasure filled the apartment as the night unfolded around them.
Caught up in their shared excitement, Ethan approached them, his gaze moving from one woman to the next as he slowly removed his jacket, revealing his toned torso. Every movement carried a deliberate sense of anticipation.
The four moved together with an easy rhythm, each bringing something different to the encounter. Whispers, moans, and the sounds of their closeness filled the room as their desire built toward an intense climax.
As the passion peaked, they gave themselves fully to the experience. The night continued in a rush of intimacy and connection, each enjoying the attention and pleasure they shared.
Unusually for him, Ethan didn't wake until the following afternoon. He lifted the thigh draped over him, carefully eased past the sleeping women, and pulled on the jeans lying on the floor. On his way out, he almost tripped over a thong.
In the living room, he dropped into a beanbag chair, fitted a disposable mouthpiece onto Job's hookah, and began smoking. Job appeared in a silk nightgown, dark circles beneath his eyes, and let out a deep yawn.
—Need me to take you anywhere?
With the mouthpiece between his lips, Ethan held up eight fingers in the familiar American gesture.
—Go back to bed. I've got things to do today, but I can manage on my own.
Job gave him two thumbs up and staggered back to his room.
After washing up, Ethan headed out feeling refreshed. Since he didn't know his way around New York, he left the car behind. He called a taxi, gave the driver his destination, and closed his eyes to rest.
Before long, the taxi stopped. Ethan stepped out and studied the small building across the street, business card in hand.
—Watch out!
Someone shoved him violently aside. A loud crash followed as an enormous plant pot shattered where he had been standing.
Fragments scattered across the pavement. Nearby pedestrians backed away, then resumed their hurried pace once they saw there was nothing more to watch. Ethan turned and looked up, a cold sweat breaking out over him.
At a third-floor window, a purebred Siberian husky stared down at him before jumping back inside.
—Damn it —Ethan muttered, taking the hand of the man who had saved him.
The man was white and middle-aged, with short hair and an ordinary black suit.
—Thank you —Ethan said sincerely. Without him, that enormous pot would have struck his head and probably killed him.
The man gave no response, instead hurriedly gathering the belongings scattered on the pavement. When he had shoved Ethan out of the way, he had dropped his white cloth bag, spilling several cards.
Ethan bent to help, but the man stopped him as his fingers reached for one of them.
—I can do it myself —he said in a deep voice.
Ethan withdrew his hand. Spotting a pair of sunglasses on the ground, he picked them up and offered them to him.
—Are these yours?
The man narrowed his eyes, put the cards back in his bag, and quickly took the sunglasses, slipping them on.
Without another word, he turned and hurried away.
Ethan watched him leave, scratched his head, and nudged a few broken pieces of pottery aside with his foot. He brushed himself off, checked the traffic, and crossed the street to the clinic.
Inside, he approached the reception desk with the business card in his hand.
—Hello. I'm looking for Dr. Sebastian.
—Do you have an appointment?
The receptionist hung up the phone and consulted her appointment book.
—Yes. I contacted her a few days ago. My name's Ethan Morgan.
She studied him for a moment, then shook her head.
—I'm sorry. There must have been a mix-up. Dr. Sebastian and the rest of our medical staff are out providing free care in the community. I could reschedule you for tomorrow. I'm very sorry for the inconvenience.
Ethan slipped the card into his pocket and nodded. It wasn't what he had planned, but there was little he could do.
—Thank you. I appreciate it, but I'm not staying that long.
—Wait a moment —the receptionist said, stopping him. —If you're in a hurry, they're not far from here. I can give you the address, and you can find her there.
—Where is it?
—Walk five blocks, then turn right. There's a park at the end of the street. You'll find them there.
—Thank you.
Ethan left and headed for the park, arriving a few minutes later. A medical vehicle was parked nearby, and several people in white coats were attending to a long line of patients. Most were homeless; others simply couldn't afford health insurance.
He lit a cigarette and sat beside a shrub-filled planter, away from the commotion. More people kept joining the line. Ethan shook his head, thinking he probably wouldn't see Dr. Sebastian that day. Perhaps he should give up. He could live with the scar; the appointment had mostly been an excuse to visit New York and party with Job anyway.
—Got a light?
Ethan looked up. A woman in a white medical coat stood before him, holding a cigarette. Her rolled-up sleeves exposed slender forearms, and a thick braid of copper-red hair fell over her chest. Her eyes were bright.
—Of course —Ethan replied, offering his lighter.
She took a drag and asked:
—Are you here to see a doctor, too?
Ethan shook his head.
—I was looking for Dr. Sebastian, but she seems to be busy.
The redhead lowered her cigarette and smiled.
—Well, I'm Dr. Sebastian. Do we know each other?
—That's lucky. I'm Ethan Morgan.
Marie shifted the cigarette between her lips and sat beside him without ceremony. Taking it back into her hand, she stretched wearily, her graceful figure briefly drawing Ethan's attention. When she turned toward him, he discreetly looked away.
—You work with Siobhan, right? She called me, but I forgot I had this event scheduled. I'm sorry —Marie said, remembering the appointment arranged for that morning.
—Yes. It's nothing too serious. I was stabbed in the back of the thigh, and it left a scar —Ethan explained.
—I'm tied up today. Could you come in tomorrow morning at eight thirty? —Marie asked, taking another drag and gesturing toward the waiting patients.
—No problem. I'll come back tomorrow morning.
Ethan tapped the ash from his cigarette, pointed toward the line, and continued.
—Why are so many people waiting?
—This is New York. Heaven and hell in the same city. Not everyone can afford expensive health insurance or decent medical care —Marie said tiredly. —We provide free treatment once a week. There's only so much we can do, but it's better than doing nothing and ignoring the people who need help most.
Someone beside the medical vehicle called to her. Marie quickly finished her cigarette, nodded to Ethan, and hurried back to the team.
Ethan extinguished his cigarette at the trash can and watched the red-haired doctor. She looked almost identical to Elizabeth Olsen, making him wonder whether this world contained doubles of famous actors. He could leave that question for another time. After watching her disappear among the others, he turned to leave.
New York's streets were as lively as ever, yet something about the city made him feel connected to it despite the surrounding chaos.
In the taxi, he asked the driver to take him to a good pizza place. He hadn't eaten since leaving the apartment, and this seemed like a good opportunity to get something before returning to Job's.
New York was famous for its pizzerias, and he couldn't leave without trying one. The driver promptly recommended Joe's Pizza, one of the city's best-known spots.
After a turn and a few more minutes of driving, they pulled up outside. Ethan asked the driver to wait. As he entered, the unmistakable smell of freshly baked dough and melted cheese greeted him. Celebrity photographs covered the walls, and, fortunately, there was no line.
He ordered two large pizzas with extra pepperoni to go. A little later, he left Joe's smiling and returned to the taxi. He knew Job would be waiting at the apartment.
Back at the building, he took the elevator to the top floor. After he knocked several times, the man in gothic clothing who had been with Job the night before opened the door. He then returned to the living room and settled into Job's arms.
—I picked up some food. Last night, all I saw in your kitchen was wine and vodka —Ethan said, setting the pizza boxes on the island.
—Perfect. I'm starving —Job replied, patting the other man on the back until he reluctantly got up.
—Have they left? —Ethan asked, pointing toward his room as he picked up a still-hot slice.
—Probably still asleep. I didn't see them leave —Job replied, shaking his head and eyeing the food eagerly.
Ethan quickly finished eating, drank half a bottle of mineral water, and stood.
—Where are you going? —Job asked, looking up.
—Exercise after a meal keeps the weight off —Ethan replied, patting his stomach before removing his jacket and heading toward the bedroom with the second pizza box. He couldn't be that cruel.
The door slammed shut, and Job struggled to swallow his mouthful. Meeting the other man's resentful gaze, he gritted his teeth.
—Want me to ask if you can join them?
The man quickly shook his head and leaned toward him, but Job pushed him away.
Job also glanced enviously toward Ethan's door. He hadn't realized the bastard had that much energy. More than an hour passed before the sounds of their vigorous "workout" finally subsided.
A little later, the door opened, and three young women in light clothing emerged, trying to straighten themselves up. It was what you might call the walk of shame.
—Hey, girls. One question —Job said, dropping onto the sofa in disbelief. —Did you give my friend a pill?
—Fuck off, Job —Ethan's breathless voice came from the bedroom.
The women chuckled, said goodbye to Job, and left the apartment on weary legs. With things still to do, Ethan went to bed early that night, declining Job's invitation to return to the club. He also sent a message asking for his morning shift to be covered. The request was reluctantly accepted, leaving him owing a dinner and a shift in return. Once Job had recovered, he headed out to resume his nightlife.
The next morning, Job still hadn't returned when Ethan left. This time, he drove to the clinic, following the GPS on his phone.
After greeting the receptionist with a smile, he went upstairs as she directed.
—Dr. Sebastian —Ethan murmured, reading the plaque before knocking.
—Come in, please —a clear voice answered.
He turned the handle and entered.
Marie Sebastian sat behind her desk in a white coat and black-framed glasses, her red hair tied in a ponytail.
—Ah, Ethan. Good to see you. Please, sit down —she said with a warm smile, turning a pen between her fingers.
Ethan pulled up a stool and sat, looking curiously at the wall behind her. Several photographs hung there, and the adjacent shelves were filled with medical books.
—All right, Ethan. Tell me exactly what happened —Marie said, setting the pen still.
—I was attacked by a suspect during a case. He stabbed me in the back of the thigh, and the scar hasn't completely faded.
Marie stood and drew back a curtain.
—Let me examine it first and see how it looks —she said, sitting on a stool and gesturing for him to approach.
—Take off your trousers, please —she added matter-of-factly.
Seeing her professional expression, Ethan obediently removed his trousers.
Marie examined him for a few seconds before saying:
—Turn around.
Her cool fingers pressed against the muscles of his thigh, raising goosebumps on his skin. After a moment, she withdrew her hand.
—You can put your trousers back on.
—What do you think, Doctor? —Ethan asked.
They returned to the desk. Marie considered the matter briefly, then picked up her pen and began writing.
—It's nothing serious, Ethan. It should continue healing on its own, but I'll prescribe an ointment to help the area heal faster and reduce the chance of a lasting mark.
—Thank you, Doctor.
Ethan hadn't expected it to be so straightforward. He had thought he might need a minor operation or something similar. After leaving her office, he bought the prescribed ointment at the clinic's adjoining pharmacy and headed to the parking lot.
He started the Challenger and drove out. As he pulled back onto the street, he spotted Marie in casual clothes, carrying a small box and waiting anxiously by the roadside.
—Dr. Sebastian, where are you headed? —Ethan asked, stopping beside her.
Marie looked surprised, then relieved when she recognized him.
—A friend's in trouble. I need to go and help him.
—Get in. I'll drive you —Ethan offered.
—Are you sure? I don't want to take up your time —Marie said hesitantly.
—It's fine. Hop in —he replied, opening the passenger door.
With no taxi in sight, Marie accepted and climbed into the car. Once she closed the door, the Dodge Challenger roared away.