INT. NIGHTCLUB. MEN’S ROOM. NIGHT.
“Clint is that you in there?”
He recognized Lionel’s voice on the other side of the bathroom door and he swore again. He glanced towards Nikki who had begun to snore gently. His fingers itched for his camera. He could take the picture. Heck, he could even let Lionel come in; just two versions of a photo documenting the continual downward spiral of Nikki Steele would still be worth a heck of lot. And he had taken pictures of celebrities doing far more compromising things then being stone cold drunk in a men’s bathroom…but they did tend to be at least some form of awake when he took them.
Letting out a grunt of annoyance at himself, Clint stuck his foot in front of the door to keep it shut and leaned over to drag over the trash can. It wasn’t that heavy but it would keep the door shut until someone tried ramming it open. If Lionel got in here there’d be no talking him out of the picture.
Clint positioned the trash can in front of the door and then stepped away and examined the room. His eyes latched onto a window over the sinks.
He climbed on top of the counter and looked through the window. An open dumpster was below.
“Good work Clint, great job on getting yourself into this…” he muttered to himself.
There was the sound of a fist hammering on the bathroom door. He’d have to move quickly. He checked the window to make sure it opened and then jumped back to the floor and hurried over to Nikki. He grabbed her purse and stuck it into his belt and then picked her up.
It was hard work climbing back on top of the counter with Nikki in his arms and there was a precarious moment when he wobbled on the edge but he managed to catch his balance. He pushed open the window sill and then glanced down again to make sure there was no risk of hitting anything but the trash.
Lifting an unconscious Nikki and sliding her through the window wasn’t easy and his arms ached he slowly lowered her out of the window as far as he could. When he was reaching as far out as possible and still keep his feet planted on the counter, he let go. He heard a soft thud as Nikki dropped and then he glanced out to make sure she was okay.
She was fine…if landing in a pile of trash could be called fine. Which he was about to find out. He hoisted himself up through the window sill and jumped, landing beside her. Instantly the smell of garbage assaulted him and he felt something sticky under his left hand. Groaning he moved towards the edge of the dumpster and climbed over onto the ground.
He surveyed the alley around him and got his bearings; plotting the quickest way to get to his car while avoiding the front of the club and the team of photographers that were sure to be outside. He turned back to the dumpster and pulled Nikki out. Then carrying her, he made his way towards the backend of the alley.