Nico
“Well, nice place you have here.”
Margaret O’Doyle is sitting at the bar in a red miniskirt and barely there halter top. She looks like something someone could buy, and maybe that’s the point.
But I’m not buying. I’m not even looking.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a girl just stop in to say hi to her betrothed?”
I don’t bother to sit. It’s early yet and only a few regulars are inside the bar, imbibing their cocktails and letting loose.
The Vipers’ Den is a popular hangout. It’s Friday night, so I know we will be packed.
It isn’t a place just for my guys, but for locals and people looking for a Manhattan vibe in a Jersey City bar. The Den is dark with a sleek city theme, all iron, steel, and cement.
It’s clean too. No drugs. No whores. No fights. Nothing obvious, anyway. Nothing that would make any hotshot cops curious.
I don’t need that kind of aggravation.