Kev squinted his eyes. The duck woman looked familiar, but maybe white ducks all looked the same. He watched her delegate between Lanon and the vole. Kev was amazed. She somehow got the raging vole-man to settle down. His face was still scowling as he stared at Lanon, but he seemed to be talking with the duck woman reasonably now.
With a final point and an angry snarl at the iguana, the vole-man turned and left. The duck woman bowed a bit as he departed before turning and giving quick, professional apologies to the other nearby tables for the disturbance to their meals.
When she finally turned to Lanon with a frown on her beak, she noticed Kev. After they made eye contact, she looked up at the argyle instigator, and after a few quick words and a point at the human, they walked over to the table.
"Sorry if I'm mistaken, but are you Donna?" Kev asked.
"I'm hurt you forgot me already, Kev," she said coyly.
"Apologies," Kev smiled. "I didn't know you worked here too."
She leaned in and whispered, "The tips are better up here. The only time I work down in The Sewer is when Ralph is visiting."
Kev nodded. She was smart.
"So," she said, straightening up a bit, "it's good to see you, Mr. Fang. I hope you weren't trying to run into Ralph tonight."
"No, just hungry," Fang grunted. He was now watching a massive flank steak being theatrically tenderized by multiple chefs, his tail wagging.
"And your friend here, who are you?" she asked the blue and green reptile who was staring at her unnervingly.
"I am the Manager of Public Relations for the club," Lanon said. "You are quite captivating, Ms. Donna. Your white feathers are so stark."
"And your suit is quite loud," she said with a grin.
"Thank you," Lanon said, looking down at his attire.
"And you," Donna said, smiling at Gretchen, "you have to deal with these three?"
Gretchen just nodded, glancing at Fang and Lanon.
Donna glanced over her shoulder, looking around at the other waitresses. "I'll be waiting on your table tonight," she said. "I just need to find the host and let him know there is a change to the seating arrangement." Turning back, she asked, "Whiskey, cranberry-vodka, and for you two?"
"Sex on the Beach," Lanon purred.
"Iced tea, if you have it," Gretchen said.
"Sweetened or unsweetened?"
"Un."
Donna nodded. "I'll be back soon." She walked off, stopping for customers and grabbing an empty plate from a table on her way.
"What did Ms. Donna whisper to you?" Lanon asked.
"She said she was going to kick you out for disturbing those voles if you weren't with Fang," Kev said.
Lanon flicked his forked tongue at Kev. "If you're going to lie so brazenly, why not say something exciting?"
"She just told me the tips here are better than in The Sewer."
Lanon leaned from the booth a bit to look down the aisle at Donna. "I did not expect her to enjoy dirty places. Fascinating."
"Get back in your seat," Kev said, putting a hand to his face. "You've already caused one scene. Just relax."
"I do apologize," Lanon said, sitting up, "but I am so very excited today. A day off. Such a novelty."
The smiling reptile-man, his blue and green suit matching his scales, his big, sharp-toothed grin... How would I feel if I got my first day off in years, or maybe ever? Kev thought. If only Lanon wasn't so off-putting, he would find it easier to appreciate his... excitement.
Kev sighed. "At least Donna took care of it. What did you even say to that guy?"
"I merely asked him why he didn't buy his wife her own slice of pie."
"Oh, that's..." Kev began.
"Was it because he thinks she is fat?" Lanon continued, his voice a picture of innocent inquiry. "He became very sensitive about the question when I pushed further, and then she asked him too. He stood up and began yelling at me, and then when she asked him again, he said she could lose a few pounds."
Kev put his face in his hands. "Why did you do that?"
"All I did was ask questions," Lanon said.
"Fang," Kev looked over at the wolfman. "Please make one of the rules 'no asking questions'."
Fang was mesmerized by a chef juggling tomahawk steaks.
"Gretchen," Kev said, turning to his only other hope, "back me up here."
The panther woman, who had been trying to keep tabs on all the nearby tables, only glanced at Kev before saying, "My job isn't making rules. It's enforcing them."
"Does enforcing the rules... excite you?" Lanon asked.
"Why do you think I took this job?" Gretchen replied, her tone flat.
"Do you see?" Lanon said, turning back to Kev. "It is so easy to answer a question when you are honest with yourself and others."
"Not everyone can be honest all the time," Kev countered.
"Precisely," Lanon said, a self-satisfied smile on his face as he looked out the window. "That is what the club is for."
Kev glanced around. It was true in a way. The appearances one had to keep up to reach this level of society must be immense. Just getting to The Perch wasn't the goal. There were even a few tables where diners were taking selfies or pictures of their food, sending it out to the worldwide web to let even more people know where they were eating and how special it made them. The club was different. It was like a different world. How simple a concept, just to get rid of electronics, but the effect was so profound. No need to think about what someone else thought about what was going on, no getting caught in the background of someone else's video making a fool of yourself, no pictures to be used as blackmail. It was a proverbial safe zone, if you were on the invite list.
Donna returned, carrying a tray on one hand. She quickly passed out an assortment of things onto the table: warm bread with a little dish of oil, their drinks, food menus, napkins, and a small rectangular plate with four oysters on the half-shell. "Compliments of the chef," she said.
"Thanks, Donna," Kev said, taking a sip of his drink.
"Is there anything else I can get for you?" Donna asked, already turning. "I'll give you a few minutes with the menu."
"I want that," Fang said, pointing at the floor below.
Donna glanced down and said, "I think that's going to get broken down, sir."
"Then make it so that doesn't happen," Fang stated simply.
"Okay... uh..." Donna looked at the others. "Do the rest of you know what you might want?"
Kev grinned and passed back the menu he was just handed. "How about the fish and asparagus tonight."
"A wonderful choice."
"I looked up the menu when I was making reservations," Lanon said, passing Donna his menu. "I was fascinated by the ortolan."
"Of course, sir." Donna quickly turned away from the lizard and looked at the panther woman, who was quickly running her finger up and down the menu, her eyes seeming to bulge further every time she looked at the price. "I... I'm not hungry," Gretchen said after a few moments, passing the menu to the duckwoman.
"Oh, come on," Donna said. "You need your energy to watch this crazy human."
Gretchen glanced back at the menu and said, "Maybe just a side of chicken then."
"I'll be sure they aren't stingy." Donna winked at Gretchen before turning to go find the chef before he could dismantle the steamship round. She didn't know how she would mark it on the tab, but she knew that cow leg was going to be expensive.
Fang's tail wagged as he took a sip from his drink. "I need to bring Reepia here sometime," he said, before turning back and gazing at the chefs below, who were now seemingly playing badminton with a few ribeyes and hot cast iron pans.
Kev grinned. "I hope it doesn't take hours to cook that thing you ordered. It looked bigger than my thigh."
"They can send up pieces as they finish," Fang murmured, his attention rapt as the volley he was watching ended with a jumping spike onto a grill.
Kev glanced across the table. "So, Gretchen, how long have you been working at the club?" The panther woman, although menacing in her own way, was much more approachable than Lanon.
"About six years now," she said.
"That's a long time. Rex hasn't driven you crazy yet?" Kev grinned and took a sip of his drink.
"Mr. Rex is demanding, but I've dealt with worse," Gretchen took a sip of her own drink. "Directors, am I right?"
"Directors?" Kev asked. "Like a movie director?"
Gretchen burst out laughing before quickly putting a hand over her mouth and looking around, embarrassed. "Movies are so low-brow," she said, her voice muffled by her paw. "As if I'd ever prance around in front of a green screen."
Kev raised an eyebrow, surprised at her outburst. "Then what do you mean, 'director'?"
"A stage director," she said, as if it were obvious.
Ahh, it's so obvious, Kev thought. Her comments, her fighting style... "A stage director," Kev said confidently. "You were a ballerina. How'd you end up—"
Gretchen let another strangled laugh escape into the hand that was still trying to hold back her giggles. She looked up at the ceiling. "Ballet? Me?"
Kev frowned. He thought he had it. "Fine, some weird circus acrobatic talent show."
"Circus?" Gretchen's giggles were coming under control. "Do you think I'm silly?"
"I'm drawing a blank," Kev said, a bit frustrated that his guesses seemed so funny to her. "I don't think your skills came from singing in a musical."
Gretchen's giggles had fully subsided, and now she was looking a bit off. "My singing's pretty good," she said.
"Just tell me," Kev pleaded. The panther had plunged from laughter to offense. He did not want to guess anymore.
"I was the top Mezzo-soprano at Dala'Bon University."
"Mezzo what now?"
"Do you not follow opera at all?" Gretchen asked, her voice incredulous.
Opera... Kev thought. Wait, the opera here is wrestling, but it's also opera still. "You must have amazing breath control," he said, the pieces clicking into place.
Lanon's eyes brightened up. "Does breath control excite you?"
"Good breath control is vital in grappling," Gretchen stated, looking directly at Kev. "If good grappling doesn't excite you, then there might be something wrong with you."
"Indeed, indeed," Lanon nodded his head sagely.
Kev looked down at his glass, feeling thoroughly outmaneuvered. "I hope Fang's order doesn't take an hour to cook."