The brothel's cellar was a cool with the buzzing main floor. The air smelled of wood and whiskey, and the low hum of voices greeted me as I reached them. Jonathan was at the far end, his loud laugh cutting through the chatter, standing with two girls who looked like they'd stepped out of a magazine. I shoved my hands in my jeans pockets, my black t-shirt loose but sticking to my back from the evening heat outside, and made my way over.
Jonathan spotted me before I got halfway, his face splitting into a grin as he waved me over. "Hey, my man Ezra!" he called, his voice booming.
"Good evening," I said, stepping up and clapping my hand against his in our usual handshake, my smile easy despite the weight of the day. "How's it going?"
"All good, man," he said, leaning back, his beach vibe shirt open. "Set with new clients for today. Big night."
