A Man of Service A John Wick Fanfic

Chapter 4

A/N – Sorry for the delay for the next chapter! I ended up having to have minor surgery, but am doing fine and back at the keyboard!

T/W – adult situations

John exited the elevator and went through the security door. The first thing that caught his attention was the glistening light off the dress of the singer on stage. He recognized the long amber hair and crystal green eyes from the woman in line behind him when he was talking to the concierge, Charon. He tried not to stare, especially when her eyes met his steady gaze and she smiled. The woman did have a smooth, silky voice, lower range than most female performers, and then his eyes slid down her shapely body, appreciating the mystique of full, round breasts, a thin waist and magnificent hips.

John quickly turned his face away from her, a wince crossing his face. He still felt married to Helen although she had died five years beforehand and he had sold his soul to the High Table to be able to remember her, remember them. The churning in his gut was just an automatic reaction to reality and he begged for it to stop. There was nothing to be done to ease that need. Nothing. So he moved his feet in front of him until he spotted Winston standing by a table in the corner.

John looked back at Kate periodically as he and Winston discussed the possible addition of a new member of their "Organization".

"I'm retired Winston," John told him flatly. "I want nothing to do with meeting new people."

"He's not a member yet. The feeling is that he's too green. Way too hungry. He's got experience but I'm getting mixed opinions."

John looked at Winston. "Who is vouching for him?"

"Sam."

"Well, Sam's got a good nose for new people. Why don't you listen to him?"

"Because I want your input."

"I'm retired," he repeated emotionlessly.

"Then what are you doing here?" Winston eyed him.

"You asked me to come."

Winston sighed with exasperation. "Why are you still living here using the Continental's business contacts?"

"I consider it part of my retirement pension."

Winston gave him a worn look. "I dislike having to remind you that you re-pledged your loyalty to serve."

John ignored him. But after another glance in Kate's direction, John asked Winston, "Who is she?"

Winston blinked his eyes. "A civilian. But one with a lovely voice. I've hired her band for the bar entertainment. She's a positively lovely woman, isn't she? If I was only 20 years younger...."

"You'd still be too old for her...." John answered Winston, his eyes focused to take her all in. Her long, thick hair was a shimmering amber and her face was one of those with perfectly symmetric features, almond shaped eyes almost the same color as her hair, above a classic nose and lovely, kissable pink lips. John swallowed and forced himself to turn to Winston.

"Do this for me," Winston encouraged. "Meet the new man. You don't have to do a job with him. Just talk to him."

John looked at him with a monotonous glare.

"....that is if you want your pension to remain in effect."

"I'll think about it," John stated, finishing that part of the conversation. "Do you know what the singer's name is?"

"Hands off, Jonathan," Winston warned him with his steely blue eyes. "You've ruined one woman's life already. Learn your lesson. Women and people like us do not mix. We don't. Now just move on."

John gave a single nod of his head as he walked toward the back of the bar. Instead of taking the exit, he made a quick left and climbed up the stairs to the back stage area and found a spot behind some props where he could see the singer, but was probably blocked from her sight.

He told himself not to do it. It was like the horse with the carrot dangling in front of him, continually running toward the carrot, but never able to have it. It would have been more compassionate to shoot himself then stand there and watch her sing; to see the beautiful thing he wanted, but could not have.

Winston collected himself and walked to the front of the stage, a wide smile on his face. Kate lowered her eyes to see a regal looking man with salt and pepper hair and indomitable, clear blue eyes that emitted unrestrained, raw power. She expected a booming, loud voice, but instead came a flowing, melodic British accent that was assured, confident, fearless.

Kate leaned down and extended her hand.

"I'm Kate Callaghan," she said, her voice soft, but bold. That dichotomy, that combination of opposites intrigued him and he became even more captivated by her.

Winston took her hand. "Call me Winston. I manage The Continental."

James came over in a flash and interrupted Winston's greeting. "Hi, Winston. James Richter, remember?"

"Yes, of course," he answered curtly, finally releasing Kate's hand. "Sounds like you are completely ready for opening night tonight."

"We are," James nodded vigorously. "Completely."

Winston turned his attention to Kate. "You have an incredible voice, Kate," he offered, sincerely.

"Thank you," she responded warmly. "You have a lovely hotel."

After a congenial conversation, Kate headed back stage. She was exhausted and wanted to lay down before the band had to go on but Gary stopped her.

"You know what this place is, don't you?" he asked her urgently, but softly.

Kate looked at him quizzically and shook her head.

"All the reports are that this place is a hang out for hit men."

She looked at him unemotionally for a minute, then burst out laughing. "Gary...."

"I wasn't sure in the beginning, but I'm sure now," he continued, his hands accentuating each word. "You are just as likely to find Al Capone coming around the corner and the Corleone's eating lunch."

"Gary, Al Capone is dead and the Corleone's are fictional....."

He huffed, irritated. "You know what I mean...."

"Fine. I'll keep my eyes peeled," she sighed. "If I spot Lucky Luciano, we're quitting."

She kissed his cheek playfully and headed back into the wings.

Kate's headed was down as she giggled and ran right into a man in a black suit.

"Oh, I'm sorry," her head popped up. "I wasn't watching where I was going. Did I hurt you?" Kate suddenly laughed as she looked up at the 6', 200 pound mass of slender, human muscle.

"No."

"I kind of figured not, considering I thought I hit a brick wall," she continued to laugh until recognition crossed her face. "The man with the dog...."

"I'm sorry?"

"I was petting your dog in the concierge line this morning...."

"Ah, oh, yes," he nodded, then extended his hand. "John Wick."

"Kate Callaghan," she answered, taking his outstretched hand. As she looked up into his dark brown eyes, she prayed she wasn't drooling. "Jesus Christ," she said to herself, looking at his perfectly chiseled, handsome face.