The Bed You Make Interlude
Chapter 47
Urban Education

Stefan steeled himself for the task ahead. He was not a proponent of availing himself of the use of public facilities. He rarely had to. But he had taken the chance that the restrooms in this small club were as surprisingly neat as the rest of the place.

The guard, Ari, exited the men's room, his security check completed. At Stefan’s signal he would either clear the room or merely accompany his employer inside. Another guard would wait outside the door.

Stefan waved Ari off. He was never casual with his security but the Russian billionaire doubted that anyone might have planned action against him in anticipation of his visit to a club such as this.

Just inside the door, two neatly dressed men engaged in inconsequential dialogue about the favorable sensory properties of the available prophylactics checked his appearance in a bank of gleaming mirrors. Stefan estimated that the two were in their early twenties, around the same age as Nikolas. An older gentleman stood before one of the available urinals. He, too, was neatly dressed. Unlike the pair of younger men - who had attired themselves casually, the older man wore a suit and tie. The suit (slightly worn but still well-tended) was gray, from a fashion season several years previous.

Stefan's sharp gaze noticed all the small details that spoke of the older gentleman's obvious care in choosing his attire for the evening; the rich, dark aubergine of his tie, the matching silk pocket square, the discreet cufflinks...

He approved.

Observing the unspoken code of etiquette while in a men's room, Stefan silently relieved himself in the urinal furthest from the current occupant. A paragraph of scrawled profanity written in garish red marker caught his eye. It appeared to have been recently added; there was no other instance of graffiti anywhere else on the wall.

The writing was placed at eye level just above the urinal Stefan used. It described in great depth the type of things the author - someone designated Buster9- set forth as a guarantee of a sexual ‘good time’. The invitation concluded with a suggestion that the reader consult his own mother for the truth of the author’s words.

Stefan shook off his bemusement. He thought that the author, should he choose a different venue for his musings, might find some success for his efforts. Despite the profane and explicit subject matter of his boasts, the exchange was surprisingly well written.

Stefan adjusted his clothing and turned. Any amusement he might have felt faded. The two younger men had abandoned their spot in front of the mirrors. Whether deliberate or not, they blocked Stefan's path to the door. With an almost unnoticeable movement, the Russian billionaire shifted his body's angle into one of the defensive stances he had learned through a lifetime of martial arts training. For several frozen seconds the men stared at one another.

"That your old lady you with?" The shorter of the duo finally gestured with his head back toward the club's interior. His waist-length dreadlocks swayed with the movement.

“My old lady?”

“Your... significant other,” the second young man explained in a perfect imitation of a college academic’s mincing manner of speech.

“Ah, you refer to my wife." Stefan allowed a shade of his natural Russian accent to color his next words. “Will this cause an issue between us?”

"You fellas get on back out front,” the old man ordered. "Go on. This is a restroom."

The two young men obeyed without question. Stefan was not surprised. The old man spoke with the universal authority of age and experience. “Thank you.”

The older man shook his head. “You didn't need my help.” He washed his hands, careful not to wet his cuffs. “Those two were cubs.”

“Thank you, nonetheless.”

“So... That young woman is really your wife?”

Stefan replied politely. “We are recently married.”

“Good.” The old man paused. "Times have changed from my day. But one thing is still the same. A woman like that is a queen. She deserves to be treated like one.” He met and held Stefan’s gaze. “Don't ever let me find out you treat her any less.”

Though both men knew there was no way for the older man to carry out his subtle threat, Stefan still nodded respectfully. “You have my word.”