I'll wait in the bar for Susanna. If she's unavailable, send whichever girls you do have to me, and I'll make my selection there.
"Of course, sir. It won't be but a minute." Eli was all smiles and charm, right up until one T. Robert York was out of sight; then that smile dropped, and the host kneaded his forehead. Like clockwork, were the visits, and like clockwork came his headaches. He'd never understand why the man felt the need to repeat the same instructions he always gave, as though he thought Eli was incapable of remembering the very specific set of demands the client always had. As though he couldn't recall that Mr. York brought his own bedding and always asked for the same no-longer-available whore.
Ricky, that new girl Eden...Saint was in town, too, flitting about somewhere. Eli wasn't sure he'd want to inflict Rob on Eden. She was green, might not know how to deal with his fussing and perfectionism.
To be honest, he didn't even really want to try. He liked making Robert York uncomfortable, and boy did Ricky make him uncomfortable. A small, wicked smile curved his lips, and he collared one of the waiters.
"Find me Saint. If he's not busy, ask him to come to the dancers' backstage. If he is, leave him alone. Saint doesn't like to be interrupted, so far as I know."
He'd go find the girls himself. Whoever he ran into first, really, be it Eden or Ricky. If they were both back there, well. Maybe he'd send them both.