Introduction
I'm a writer. I've been fortunate to be able to pursue my chosen career as a writer full-time and I'm producing another novel exclusively on Steemit.com first.
This will be my second full novel to be produced 'live' on Steemit.com - not including the 13 story anthology I wrote last year.
This is the re-written draft of the novel and to give it another slant, I'm also running it through Grammarly before putting it back up for you to read it. (Thank you 
Amazon.co.uk is running a competition for novels written between May and August this year and I hope to be able to enter this work. I have to get my skates on if I'm to meet the deadline.
The club in the story is called The Cobalt and therefore, the novel title will follow the theme.
Images from Google free to use search, book cover my own
Cobalt Nights
Zack stood at the door to the boss’s office. He rolled his shoulders, leaned his head from side to side and tried to straighten out his thoughts. He closed his eyes for a long blink, nodded to himself and rapped twice on the door. Without waiting for an invitation to enter the office, he opened the door and walked right in.
Zack said nothing. He stood in front of the large, shabby desk and waited for the boss to move his attention from paperwork to visitor.
If the intent was to make the visitor feel like a schoolboy in the headmaster’s office, it didn’t quite achieve an atmosphere of impending doom. Rather than being made to feel vulnerable and scared, Zack stood confident while he waited; more like one of the senior pupils, filled with youthful certainty and knowledge of the headmaster’s shortcomings, than a new student filled with tales of the headmaster’s hard and savage reputation ringing in his ears.
Without glancing to either side, Zack knew the two men the boss utilised as bodyguards had noticed him and assessed him as ‘threat’. They remained where they were, but their demeanour changed.
Zack checked out the boss’s two goons – Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber as he’d dubbed them right after their first encounter. They lounged around the office all day, doing very little, with no chance of getting their hands dirty.
Zack half-smiled at the baleful glares that greeted him. The distrust and disdain were mutual.
The boss glanced up from his ‘paperwork’ – betting slips strewn across his desk and a racing paper with times and statistics of the horses running. He nodded at Zack, but his eyes went right back to the papers.
“Hey, Zack, what can I do for you?” he said, talking to his papers rather than the man before him.
Zack got the feeling there was nothing the boss would like less than to hear what he could do for Zack.
“Nothin’, I’m handing in my notice, Mikhail,” Zack said. He stood waiting for the boss to process his words.
The boss put down his racing paper and for once, ignored the racing form of the horses. He placed both hands palm-down on the surface of the desk. Zack assumed Mikhail wanted to make him feel secure that he wasn’t about to pull a gun or anything.
That was just one more thing against working at the club – too many wanna-be gangsters living off other people’s reputations. It got too difficult to keep track of who was who and how far they’d go to prove it any more.
“You’re quitting?” Mikhail said. His voice sounded nonchalant but his eyes glinted dangerously and his mouth set in a hard line as he studied Zack’s reaction.
“Yep,” Zack said, matching the nonchalant tone. “It’s the end of the line for me.” He kept his attitude casual and non-threatening, hands by his sides, relaxed, not clenching in fists as his instinct dictated.
“You’re not bored, are you?” Mikhail said, laughing.
It took a second or so for that to percolate through the goons’ skulls but they gave a humourless chuckle too.
“No, not bored,” Zack said. He offered nothing else by way of information.
The boss studied Zack. He rubbed his chin, and one eyebrow gave a flick as he came to his decision.
Zack didn’t show it, but he went on full alert, his mind raced, pulse quickened, adrenalin boosted his senses. The goons moved from their reclining positions and stood just behind Zack, one to either side.
“Who’s poached you, Zack?” Mikhail said.
Zack knew that the answer he gave would lead to a number of possible outcomes.
The first outcome that sprang to Zack’s mind was the real possibility of a battering right there and then. The second, he’d be on tenterhooks, waiting for the battering to arrive one dark night when his guard was down, and he was alone. Another alternative of getting a battering in full view of his new boss, peers, colleagues, and customers was something to look forward to if Mikhail decided a lesson in manners would be in his best interest, or Mikhail could be satisfied with his answer. While being satisfied didn’t mean a Golden Handshake or anything, it did mean Zack would leave without a price on his head.
“No one poached me. I have more respect for you than that,” Zack said, his tone even and respectful. “I’ve come into a bit of money, and I want to set up a new security firm. I want to step back from this. I’m not getting any younger.”
Mikhail listened and took an age to decide his reaction. He nodded, corners of his mouth turned down as though he considered Zack’s response reasonable. Then he extended his hand for Zack to shake and the tension in the room evaporated. The goons slid back to their previous positions and Zack breathed an inward sigh of relief.
Zack shook his hand. “Thanks for that, Mikhail. I appreciate it.”
“This firm,” the Boss said. “You’ll be looking for clients?”
“Yes, eventually.”
“Keep my number,” Mikhail said. “You know what you’re doing where the security game is concerned. I’ll consider employing you for the clubs I run.”
“I wasn’t expecting that,” Zack said. “Thank you.”
“De nada,” the boss said, waving his hand as a gesture of ‘think nothing of it – and get out of my sight’.
Zack nodded that he understood and left the office.
He walked slowly, head down as though considering what had occurred. He heard the buzz of conversation start and the door closed behind him.
‘So, not quite out of the woods,’ he thought. He’d have to keep a wary eye open until the Boss was satisfied that he wasn’t jumping ship and defecting to another Firm.
Zack knew what the dangers of Door Security were, he also knew that a lot of his potential clients were at odds with each other, and balancing that little lot out would be a task in itself.
Bored? More like insane!