Free Personal Protection by Tracey Shellito

shouldn’t to the ladies. They might be more inclined to listen to diplomacy from me than some of the neanderthals you employ.”
    I knew some of the other staff and didn’t think much of them. They were brawlers. The whole point was not to get into a fight in the first place – something my employer obviously
knew too. Relief fell across his face like a curtain.
    “That would be good. I told the others you’d be coming. Most of them seemed to know your name. This is not your usual line of work. I was told you’re a bodyguard.”
    “Yes.”
    “You’re not working for anybody specific at the moment?”
    “I can’t discuss that. Let’s just say there’ll be no conflict of interest. Once someone else fills this position I’ll go back to doing what I do best.”
    “I can only pay you the going rate for a bouncer.”
    “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
    He looked relieved. “I suppose this will be a bit of breather for you, not having to dodge bullets and whatnot.”
    I thought about my last two assignments and nodded. “Yes. It will.”
    “Erm, yes, well, if you wouldn’t mind, circulate on the balcony level for an hour or so, then make your way down to the mezzanine. If one of the lads taps you and says, ‘Star
1’ they’ll want you in the left hand room. ‘Star 2’ is the right. Someone has to be there when the girls go for a private dance. Some of the gents think they’ll be
able to get their hands on them then and need a bit of presence to persuade them otherwise. Will that be a problem for you?”
    “No.”
    “You sure? You’re a woman. I mean…”
    I squashed my irritation. You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I’ve heard that line. It doesn’t pay to get angry. Just project competence and nip it in the bud right
away.
    “This is a job. My personal opinions and my politics don’t enter into it. Anything else?”
    He looked at me for a moment, then decided to give me the benefit of the doubt. “If somebody yells, ‘Heads up’, that means all hands to the main doors. Sometimes a crowd of
drunken blokes’ll try their luck and we don’t allow that.”
    “Glad to hear it.”
    “One of the girls calls, ‘Help,’ or the other bouncers, ‘Help here,’ that means they can’t handle the situation. If you’re nearby, you pile in, break up
whatever’s going on.”
    “OK. What about the police?”
    “We are a legitimate business enterprise. No sex for money goes on in this establishment. From time to time, the law drops by, but they’re plain clothes and they don’t usually
cause any trouble. Their Chief Super is a member. We don’t get raided when he’s in. And he’s in tonight. Front and centre on the mezzanine.”
    Interesting. This was the kind of information that might be useful to Dean some day.
    “One more thing. A couple of the lads have been approached by the girls to look the other way in the Star rooms so they can have full sex. It’s not to happen! They might try to bribe
you, but stick to your guns. It’s my licence if this place gets a reputation as a knocking shop. If the girls are stupid enough to make arrangements outside of club hours with the punters,
that’s their business. I’m not having them screwing the public on my premises. There is a bonus for anyone who reports it to me.”
    “I understand.”
    “On your way, then. It’s pay in the hand at the end of the night. Your tax affairs are your own lookout. And if you’re crap, you’re out.”
    “I won’t be.”
    The night began quietly enough. The bouncers and I sniffed one another like wary dogs staking out territory. Muzak gave way to the first dancer. More clients arrived, occupying balconies and
tables, making a stroll along the catwalk an obstacle course negotiated with care and diplomacy. The feather-clad girls draped themselves around me and I draped them round something, or quite often
someone, else. One of the bar staff got fresh with me, but I thought of Tori and