by Ava Harrison
I know I should avert my eyes, but I can’t. It’s like some force is holding my head hostage. The draw to him is innate. I can feel it in my bones. Maybe it’s just his incredible looks, but my body is telling me to pay attention. He’s looking at me with the same quizzical expression that implies he’s more than aware of me.
It’s startling.
3
Drew
As much as I love this club, the last thing I want to do is socialize with the patrons, so I take my sweet-ass time making my way downstairs.
Silver is an upscale club. Only the elite and best looking in New York City are allowed entry, and with that comes a whole different set of problems.
They can all afford the real party. I’ve banned the use of drugs in my club, but enforcing that rule isn’t always so easy.
This clientele rarely enjoys a night out without your standard line of cocaine. I despise it, and I despise them.
It wasn’t always like that. I used to be the life of the party scene. Hell, that’s how I ended up a club owner. But things change, and shit happens. One of my biggest regrets came at the hand of one line too many.
I shake my head, not allowing the memories to take root in my brain right now. No, instead, I ready myself to deal with the mayhem. My office is my sanctuary, but down here is my hell. People think I have the life they’d kill for. I’d kill for it all to go away.
Rolling my sleeves up to my elbows, I survey the scene. It’s a packed house. Nothing new there.
I need to check in with Carter and get the hell out of here.
Too much work to do and a meeting in a few days in Napa. I’m sure he’s at the bar chatting it up with the new girl.
Fucking Cal.
Typically, I would have told him to fuck off, but after reading everything I could find about her online, I knew I couldn’t.
Which brings me back to the here and now and a new employee who makes me remember all the shit that haunts me.
Shaking my head, I look for Carter, and when I see him, I can’t help but grin. I was right. He’s his typical charming self. Women love him. Men love him. Hell, I believe my grandma would even love him. I can’t see the girl’s face, but she’s probably eating him up. Most of the new girls do.
My eyes wander down her backside.
She’s average height, with a narrow waist and hips that protrude just enough to give her the hourglass figure men fall over themselves for. Her long, brown hair falls in waves around her shoulders, but it’s when she turns around that my breath literally hitches.
That face . . .
Her eyes, although I can’t see the color from here, which I know from the pictures online, are blue, are also large and mesmerizing. They’re wide as she takes in the mayhem that is Club Silver. And her full lips are pulled up in a smirk at something Carter says behind her.
God, she’s beautiful.
I can’t explain my reaction. I experience insta-lust often, but this is something different.
It’s her eyes.
Her haunted eyes.
Her demons make her different.
No, it’s more than that . . .
I internally groan at my own wayward thoughts.
She’s clearly a siren, but I don’t have time to contemplate my body’s visceral call for her. I’m going to chalk it up to . . .
Yeah, I have nothing.
I shake my head to clear the fog I appear to be in and decide to forgo checking in with Carter. Instead, I look around the space and notice the curtain to Reese’s table has been pulled shut.
No surprise there.
I stalk up toward the VIP section.
Reese is a fucking problem.
But he’s also a problem I’m not sure how to handle. There is no love lost between us, but the part of me that will always be attached to Alexa holds me back.
Guilt is a vicious thing.
It slithers inside like a venomous snake.
You might not see it at first, might not notice its presence, but it’s there, hidden beneath the grass, ready to strike.
Reese has this hold on me.
But something has got to fucking give.
I’m not in the mood for this shit, but I deal with it, nonetheless.
Swinging open the curtain, I’m met with his bright green eyes. They are glassy, and his nostrils are red.
Surprise, surprise. Seems not much has changed.
“Drew Lawson, to what do I owe the honor of your presence tonight?” he slurs.
“You need to get your shit together, or I’m going to have to ask you to leave. No drugs in my club.”
“Careful there, Lawson, you act all high and mighty, but don’t forget, I know everything. Wouldn’t want your perfect reputation tarnished.”
“Shut your mouth.”
“Why? Guilty conscience?”
“I said shut the fuck up, or you’ll be out of here so fast you won’t know what happened to you.”
“You won’t throw me out.”
“Try me.”
“Alexa wouldn’t want that . . .” He grins.
“You don’t know shit about what Alexa would want.”
“That’s right, you do. You always knew . . . how did that work out for you?”
I bare my teeth, ready to snap, but then I calm myself. Alexa wouldn’t want this. She wouldn’t want me fighting with Reese, and at least I can keep an eye on him here. Make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble.
Some might say it’s not my responsibility, but it is.
This is my burden. My cross to bear.
Regardless of what I want.
“I see you hired a new girl . . .” he leads, his eyes narrowing at me.
“Stay away from her,” I say before I turn, leaving Reese at his table, and stalk toward the new girl.
When I’m standing in front of her, she becomes stiff with recognition.
“Did he bother you?” I grit out of clenched teeth.
Her eyes are wide in shock. “No.” She shakes her head. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
She’s much prettier up close, rocking the sweet, innocent girl-next-door look. I know the truth, though. Regardless of how innocent she looks, she’s anything but.
It makes her that much more intriguing.
I shouldn’t want to know more about her, but I do.
4
Bailey
The night is finally over, and I can barely stand. I’m still unnerved by my first run-in with my boss. He barely said anything. Just came over like he was willing to rip off the head of the drunk loser in room three.
I only saw him that one time, but it was enough to leave an impression. Now that the club is closed, all the adrenaline has left, and my body aches, every muscle wrung so tight that one missed step would bring me down.
It’s after three thirty in the morning, and thankfully, the bass is no longer hammering through my ears. However, as my gaze shifts around the room, I realize the music was the least of my problems. The VIP tables, the bar . . .
This place is a fucking mess.
The debauchery and sin still clinging to the surfaces long after the last patron has gone.
Reaching under the cabinet to grab a rag, I let out a louder groan. The sound reverberates off the walls, causing Carter to turn his whole body toward me from down the bar.
“Damn, girl. You okay?” Our eyes meet, and his eyebrow raises.
“My whole body feels like it’s been hit by a freight train.” I stretch my arms out toward my sides and cringe for emphasis.
“Your body will get used to it.”
“Promise?” I say, and he winks at me.
“Yeah, I promise. You did good tonight. Now we just have to finish sorting the bottles, and the cleaning crew who comes in at five will handle the rest.” I can’t even suppress the sound coming out of my mouth. I sound like a dying animal that just wants to be put out of my misery.
A boisterous laugh leaves his mouth. “Need a drink?” he drawls out. “Maybe a pick
-me-up?” His lip quirks up into a large grin as he reaches into his back pocket. As he pulls his hand out, I can see he’s clutching something in his hand, hard. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what he’s hiding.
“A small bump is just what the doctor ordered for cleanup time, and with boss man gone, no need to hide in the back storage room.”
“I don’t do drugs.” A shiver runs down my spine, and I feel a wrinkle forming between my brows. His eyes narrow.
“That’s the second time you got weird tonight. There’s definitely a story here. So come on, Bailey, what’s your deal?”
“I-I, um . . .” My hand lifts to pinch my nose.
“I might seem a bit flaky, but I’m trustworthy. I know we don’t know each other, but I’d like to change that. If you want to talk . . .” He trails off as he gauges my reaction.
“It’s too late to go there right now, and there’s still way too much to clean. But maybe after?”
He nods. “Okay, how about we clean and reconvene in thirty minutes. There’s a great diner down the street. It might be too late in the night to eat, but it’s never too early for coffee.”
I can feel my teeth gnaw on my lower lip as I think about how nice it would be to have a friend here. Someone to talk to. “Yeah, I’d like that.” I turn away, but before I leave the bar, I look over my shoulder, catching his gaze one more time. “Thanks, Carter.” He smiles broadly, and for the first time in forever, I feel good about the possibility of unloading my burdens on someone else.
We’re sitting quietly at a small booth in a twenty-four-hour diner, and I can feel my heart leaping in my chest.
“You okay?”
Lifting my gaze to his, I start to rub at the back of my neck. “I guess I’m a bit nervous.”
“No reason to be nervous.” He gives me a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to.”
I let out a deep breath. I can do this. “I’m an addict,” I blurt out. “I’ve been clean for two years.”
His hand reaches across the table, and I pull mine away from my neck and place my hand in his. He gives me a little squeeze, and I can feel my eyes begin to mist. “I used to be . . . I was in an accident. I started to take pills for the pain. It started out just a pill here and there, and the next thing you know, I was missing school, running up debt, and well, that was just the beginning.” Thinking of all the things I would do when I was high makes my stomach churn. “I did some stuff I’m not proud of, but then it got so bad. One morning, I woke up—”
“You don’t have to tell me the details, Bailey.”
I nod. That’s as much as I’m willing to share right now.
“I know a thing or two about addictions. It’s been a tough habit to kick. I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay clean for two years, but one day, you’ll have to share your secret with me.” He smiles.
“You have to be ready. If you aren’t, no program in the world will help.”
“One day. Soon,” he emphasizes. “Thank you for trusting me. I won’t squander that trust.”
I believe him.
“School?” he questions.
“No. Right now, I’m just trying to stay clean. It’s proving to be a test of wills living in this city, especially now that I work at a club.” I sigh. “I was taking classes, but I missed more than I attended. I dropped out to figure everything out. I want to go back, but I can’t afford it right now. I need to get caught up with bills, and then I hope to start back up again.”
“I can imagine it’s tough working at the club, but Drew’s rules will help. Can’t drink on the job, can’t do drugs on the job. And now that I know your truth, I won’t try to convince you to do either behind boss man’s back. I’ve got you.”
His sincerity warms me. “I’m happy I met you.”
“Me too.” His mouth parts into a huge smile. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” he says in his best Bogart impersonation, and I can’t help but laugh.
“So, model and actor, eh?”
He groans. “I don’t know if you can call it that when I haven’t had any work in over a year.”
“Why? I’d think people would be lining up for you.”
“It’s a hard business to break into.”
I take a sip from my coffee and sigh at the bitter goodness. “How old are you?” I ask.
“A gentleman never tells.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not the saying.” I giggle.
“Since we’re friends and all, I’ll tell you my secret. I’m twenty-eight.” He mock-gasps. “Another reason the agents aren’t lining up at my door.”
“Twenty-eight is still young,” I assure him.
“Not for a struggling model. I’m well past my prime. Twenty-eight is only young to be a club owner. If only I had Drew’s unlimited funds.” He shakes his head.
“Drew Lawson is only twenty-eight? That is really young to own a club. How does someone come into something like that? Family business?”
“Nooooo. That’s a long story, but I will say this. He was a pretty hard party boy several years ago, and after some shit went down, he cleaned up, and he’s been on the straight and narrow ever since. He’s a good dude.” He sips his coffee and yawns.
“I need to hit the sack. I can hardly keep my eyes open,” I drawl out sleepily.
The bell on the diner door chimes, and a group of people come through, laughing animatedly. I turn to look over my shoulder, and the blood drains from my face. My head snaps forward, and my body slumps down into the booth.
“What’s up?” Carter asks, frowning at my strange reaction.
My eyes close, and I blow out a deep breath. “It’s my sister and her boyfriend.”
His brows lower over his eyelids. “And that’s a problem?”
“Yes, it’s four o’clock in the morning, and seeing as I used to be an addict . . . with a prosecuting attorney for a sister, this won’t look good.”
He clenches his teeth and grimaces. “So, basically she’s a mother hen?”
“Not usually, but that’s because I rarely leave my apartment.”
“Incoming,” he says, alerting me to her approach.
“Don’t mention the club,” I hiss under my breath, and somehow, he seems to understand.
The group passes by our table without incident. I throw money on the table and go to make a mad dash, but per my luck, Harper sits on the side of the booth facing me. When her eyes meet mine, they go wide before lasering in on the back of Carter’s head, then narrowing.
Fantastic. She thinks I’m up to my old habits.
“Bailey?” she questions, as though she’s not sure her eyes aren’t deceiving her.
I raise my hand awkwardly as three additional sets of eyes look upon me. Cal’s face pales, surely deducing why I’m here at this hour.
“Hey, Harp,” I call, and she stands, making her way toward us.
“What are you doing here, Bailey?” Her tone is sharp and accusatory. “Do you realize what time it is?”
“I could ask you the same question,” I bite with a frown, nodding my head toward my guest, hoping she’ll take the hint and not make an unnecessary scene. When her arms cross over her chest, I know she’s not backing down. “This is my friend, Carter,” I say, motioning to him. “I couldn’t sleep, and he invited me to grab breakfast with him.”
Carter stands, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he says, smiling wide. Harper’s frosty expression melts. She’s putty in his hands. Of course.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she says, head tilted to the side as she takes him in. “How did you two meet?”
My stomach sours as I attempt to concoct yet another lie in my head, but Carter jumps to my rescue again.
“I live close by. We became fast friends,” he says, taking a seat. “Bailey and I were just discussing her future plans. We were talking about different college options.”
I kick him under the table, and he yelps
, but Harper’s beaming so bright, she doesn’t even notice. Does he have any idea what he’s done? Now, she’s going to nag me until I’m back in class.
“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” I say, through partially gritted teeth. “I need to make sure it aligns with my work schedule.”
“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” Harper praises. “You know I’ll help you if it means you’re back in school.”
I groan. “I don’t need your help, Harp. But thank you.” I nod my head toward her table. “Your friends look like they’re waiting on you to order.”
She looks over her shoulder. “Oh, yeah, I better go. We ended up going out tonight. We ran into Stan and Rachel in Soho, and they took us to some dive bar around the corner from here.” She laughs like it’s funny. “Enjoy your night. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says, bending down and pulling me into her. “He’s cute,” she whispers, and I grin across the table at Carter.
“Talk to you tomorrow,” I say, waving at her, Cal, and the other two at her table.
“That was . . .”
“A close-ass call,” I mumble, leaning over the table. “If she found out I’m working at Silver, that whole interaction would’ve gone sideways fast. Thanks for your quick thinking.”
He grins. “Women can’t resist my charm.”
I giggle. “Thank God for that.”
“You know I get it,” he says, turning serious. “She clearly loves you, Bailey. If she’d have a problem with you working at the club, it’s only because she cares.”
I know he’s right, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m out of options. What I need is for her to believe in me. To know I’m a different person. I can do this even if I shouldn’t.
“Let’s get out of here. I’m exhausted,” I suggest, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole. Incredibly, Carter never pushes. It’s like he already understands when to let stuff go. I appreciate him more and more with every minute I spend with him.
Carter insists on paying the bill, and we say our goodbyes for the night—well, morning. Having a normal night out with a potential friend was just what I needed. I think I can do this city after all.
