Nothing appeared.
"You're not on the list."
Marcus frowned.
"That can't be right."
"Maybe you have the wrong place."
Marcus looked at the sign.
LUXE PENTHOUSE.
He smiled.
"No. This is the place."
The guard looked uncomfortable.
"Sir, I need to ask you to step aside."
Marcus moved away from the entrance.
"I can call the person who invited me."
Before he could reach for his phone, Victor noticed him.
He had been standing nearby, talking with two investors.
He excused himself.
Then walked toward Marcus.
"What's the problem?"
The security guard immediately straightened.
"Mr. Hale, this gentleman says he's expected upstairs."
Victor looked Marcus over.
Leather jacket.
Jeans.
Boots.
Gold chain.
Then Victor looked at his face.
"Name?"
"Marcus Reed."
Victor waited.
Nothing.
"I don't recognize you."
Marcus nodded.
"You wouldn't."
Victor smiled.
"Excuse me?"
"I've never met you before."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because I was invited."
"By whom?"
Marcus hesitated.
"Your manager."
Victor laughed.
"My manager?"
"Yes."
"Which manager?"
Marcus looked toward the building.
"I was told someone would meet me."
Victor's expression hardened.
"This isn't a public lounge."
"I know."
"It's a private establishment."
"I know."
"Then perhaps you should understand that people don't simply walk in."
Marcus looked at him.
"I wasn't trying to walk in."
"You were standing at my entrance."
"I'm waiting for someone."
Victor laughed again.
Several guests nearby looked over.
Marcus remained calm.
"There's no need to laugh."
Victor smiled.
"Young man, I'm not laughing at you."
"You are."
"I'm laughing because you don't understand where you are."
Marcus looked up at the enormous sign.
"I understand."
"No, you don't."
Victor stepped closer.
"This place costs more per table than you probably make in a month."
Marcus said nothing.
Victor continued.
"So I'm going to give you some advice."
"What kind?"
"Go somewhere else."
Marcus looked at him.
"Why?"
Victor pointed at his clothes.
"Because you don't belong here."
The security guard lowered his eyes.
A woman near the entrance whispered to her companion.
Marcus heard her.
He looked at Victor.
"You decide who belongs?"
Victor nodded.
"Yes."
"Based on what?"
"Experience."
Marcus smiled.
"No."