Beyond the Velvet Rope

by Tiffany Ashley

  “You’re certifiable, Warren,” she said.

  “That wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that,” he chuckled.

  “When are you going to have time to plan a party?”

  “I’ll make time,” he laughed. “When have you ever known me not to find time for a little revelry?”

  “Forgive me for being skeptical.”

  “We’ll have it next Monday,” he announced.

  “That’s only four days away, including today,” she pointed out.

  “Plenty of time,” he assured her. “The club will be closed, so everybody from the staff can come. I know this great little bistro that can do the catering. It’ll be perfect.”

  “I’m not so sure it’s a good idea,” she warned.

  “Okay, Negative Nancy,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I won’t ask for your help, but you are required to come.”

  The girls were so taken with the idea, they looped their arms around his neck and planted loud kisses on his cheeks. His eyes lit up and she knew if Warren died this very moment, he would have done so with a smile on his face.

  “Okay, okay. Plan your party, but we—” Thandie pointed to the girls and herself “—have work to do. And this work is attached to a sizable payoff. Please try not to be offended when I tell you those responsibilities outweigh your party plans.”

  “Thandie,” Len said with a dramatic whine. “Show a little gratitude. He’s offering to throw you a party, not give you a root canal.”

  “I’m just being a voice of reason. We’re here to work, not party.”

  Raja’s hand shot up into the air. “Who votes to ignore Thandie and focus on planning our party?” Len and Warren’s hands sprang into the air. “Looks as though you’ve been outnumbered, Thandie.” And in a voice reminiscent of her boss’s, Raja added. “Try not to be offended.”

  Len giggled and Warren clapped his hands and started listing off things he wanted to include.

  Thandie shook her head and left the room. She doubted anyone noticed her absence, for they were again jumping up and down with excitement.

  * * *

  An hour later, Thandie and the girls piled into the SUV and headed toward South Beach. It would be another long day. They had all been long days. There never seem to be enough time to accomplish everything. There were always phone calls to make, emails to follow-up on, booking agents to persuade and hotel rates to negotiate.

  And then there was the research. Not an overly difficult task, however it demanded time and a fair amount of patience. Being unfamiliar with Miami, Thandie had to invest a few days to acquaint herself with the city.

  The feat would have been much easier if she could clarify the expectations. Unfortunately, she was avoiding Elliot like the plague. Not that he noticed.

  Thandie’s elaborate plan to be too busy with work to think about Elliot, let alone see him, was a failure. She was annoyed to learn from his smug assistant Romero, Elliot was currently out of town. When she’d discovered he was in Italy of all places, with someone named Nico, she had difficulty silencing a colorful string of profanities. Even if she had questions about the project, he would not have been available to answer them. Not that she was anxious to see the man. In fact, she felt just the opposite. Be that as it may, Elliot would have to approve her proposal before she could move forward.

  Having no idea when Elliot would return, Thandie pushed onward. She was determined to complete the proposal.

  Thus, she and the girls submerged themselves in the momentous task of gathering information. By day, they made endless calls, verifying the schedules of potential entertainers and high-profile guests. By night, they split up their schedules; putting in early appearances at Babylon before heading out to scout competing clubs. It was a grueling schedule. Even Raja and Len, with their bountiful energy, began to whine after a few days. By the end of the week, Thandie had a detailed project plan ready for review.

  In a show of appreciation for their hard work, she gave the girls the afternoon off. This was music to their ears, as they would be free to roam the streets of Miami unsupervised.

  Late Sunday evening, Thandie put the finishing touches on the proposal, dressed it in her firm’s signature portfolio packaging, and arranged for the girls to deliver it to Romero, who would relay it to his employer. Thandie imagined it would sit on Elliot’s desk collecting dust, anticipating his return to the city. Until then, all she could do was wait.

  On the day of Warren’s party, Thandie indulged herself by sleeping late. She’d managed to keep Len and Raja out of her hair by having them run miscellaneous errands, although she had the sinking suspicion they were helping Warren plan his spontaneous house party.

  Warren’s home had quickly become a reservoir for cleaning supplies, flower arrangements, lighting fixtures, and sound equipment. By early afternoon, there were party planners, decorators and caterers crawling all over. True to his word, Warren hadn’t bothered her once for help. In fact, she’d gotten the feeling he enjoyed the project; it seemed to give an outlet to his youthful energy.

  By now, Thandie was too busy to notice the constant eruptions of noise from the lower level of Warren’s home. The DJ he’d hired was performing a series of sound checks, decorators were making the finishing touches, and the caterers were preparing the buffet. Len and Raja were in a state of giggles, teasing Warren whenever possible and taking turns flirting with the DJ.

  Thandie, for the most part, remained locked in her room. Amanda had called earlier, and it had taken her a solid hour to calm her down. When she had finally hung up, Thandie needed a nap. She slept for two hours before being awakened by knocking on her door.

  “Thandie?”

  “Come in,” she said sleepily.

  Raja eased into her room, closing the door quickly behind her to block out the noise. Wearing a strapless black dress with her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, she looked very pretty.

  “You should come downstairs. The decorator did a kick-ass job.”

  This made Thandie laugh. “A kick-ass job? Aren’t you a little old for such descriptions?”

  “I’m only twenty-three!”

  Thandie arched her brow at the girl.

  “Fine,” Raja surrendered. “I’m twenty-six, but don’t tell Len.”

  “My lips are sealed,” she promised.

  Raja brightened. “Thanks, boss. By the way, Warren sent me up here to ask you nicely to get ready. The party starts in two hours.”

  Rolling out of bed, Thandie stretched. “Okay. You’ve done your dirty work. I’m up.”

  “Want some help?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll be down soon.”

  Once Raja left, Thandie began washing up. She opened the closet and pulled out a garment that was so whisper thin, it floated in the air. Unlike the flashy outfits she wore for work, this gown would cover her from head to toe in a cool shade of gray lace. The material was lined with delicate nude fabric, giving the illusion the owner of the dress was wearing nothing beneath.

  Thandie had never worn it to any of the clubs she worked because she’d always thought the coloring too delicate, and the length too formal. However, for a house party in tropical surroundings, it was perfect.

  She slid into the dress and rummaged through her jewelry bag for a pair of simple stud earrings. Following Raja’s lead, she pulled her hair away from her face, tucking rebellious tresses behind her ears. By the time she was applying her lipstick, she could hear the first group of guests arriving.

  Now completely dressed and accessorized, she surveyed herself in the full-length mirror. She admired the way the dress clung to her body like a second skin, before falling into a pool of lace around her stilettos. There was a high slit on the right side of the gown, nearly snaking all the way up to her waist. It would be the only visible skin shown tonight. For several minutes, she debated about whether to wear panties or not. The dress was lovely, yet very thin. She could see the slight indention of her thong along her hips. With a sigh, sh
e lifted her skirt and pulled off her panties, grumbling to herself that no one but her would ever know.

  After a final once-over, Thandie went downstairs. She was impressed. When Warren Radcliffe threw a party, he threw a party. The room was lit by hundreds of candles, and with the curtains pulled back to allow a picturesque twilight view of the ocean, the setting was beautiful. The terrace doors were open, allowing a pleasant breeze to flow through the rooms. Balanced by smooth, jazzy melodies, it was the perfect setting for seduction.

  There were already fifty guests there. Miami’s finest socialites had come out to play. Spotting her across the room, Warren came to her side, kissing her cheek. “There you are, Thandie. You look lovely.”

  “Thank you.” Looking around the room, she said, “You’ve outdone yourself.”

  “You think so?”

  “I love it, Warren. Forgive me for ever doubting you.”

  He laughed. “I aspire to impress you.” Claiming two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, he handed her the refreshment. “Here’s to old friends in new places.” He clinked the tip of his glass with hers and took a sip.

  Just then, a large group of newcomers entered the living area. Thandie looked around the room and spotted most of the Babylon staff and a dozen pretty twenty-something girls.

  “Warren, who are these women you invited?”

  He shrugged. “Haven’t got a clue, but God bless them for coming. Pardon me, kiddo. I see a guest who needs my attention.”

  She watched him rush off to flirt with a tall, thin girl who looked too young to vote. Laughing to herself, she made her way out to the terrace, where a few people had gathered. Immediately, she spotted Adam Parr. He waved her over, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

  “You certainly can be counted on for the wow-factor,” he said. “You look hot.”

  Thandie smiled. “You look pretty nice yourself.”

  “I try,” he said with a wink. “So how has your visit been so far? Staying with Warren has got to be entertaining.” They both looked across the room where Warren was doing a very suggestive salsa dance with his new lady friend.

  “I’m afraid everything about Warren is entertaining,” Thandie said under her breath.

  “Beautiful and diplomatic,” he teased.

  “Careful, Adam. I’m easily swayed by flowery words.”

  “I’m easily swayed by loose women. But who’s counting?”

  They laughed.

  Adam stopped a passing waiter to replace their now-empty glasses with fresh, fizzing flutes of champagne. “How’s the proposal coming along?”

  “It’s finished,” she said triumphantly.

  “I don’t know how you did it so fast,” he said with a shake of his head. “The last PR agent for Red Door took a month, and Elliot still laughed at it.”

  “Let me guess,” she said in a forced cool voice. “The agent was a man.”

  Adam smiled to himself. “You wouldn’t have known it from the way he started crying. Wailed like a woman. Poor fellow. He was in over his head.”

  Thandie gave a weak smile and fought the sensation to run back to her laptop and double-check her work.

  Adam’s gaze flicked to someone behind her and then he smiled. “Excuse me, Thandie. I see a friend of mine. Will you be all right by yourself?”

  “Of course,” she assured him.

  Thandie watched Adam as he crossed the room. In all honesty, she was saddened to see him go. Aside from Warren, Adam was the only friend she had in Miami.

  She was just about to introduce herself to a couple standing nearby when she heard someone call her name. She turned to see Rex Barrington making his way to her side. She smiled as he approached. He was dressed in a dark gray suit and black dress shirt which was unbuttoned at the neck. He looked very nice, she thought. Not nearly the handsome radiance of Elliot Richards, but nice all the same.

  “You look splendid,” he said, greeting her with a light peck on the cheek. “Of course, I’m sure every man in the room has told you so. That dress—really compliments you.” He visibly blushed the moment the words left his mouth.

  Thandie thought his embarrassment was endearing. “Thank you, Rex. I was just thinking how nice you look tonight.”

  With obvious relief, he smiled. “How are things going so far?”

  “I haven’t been chased off yet, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “That’s good news. We need a pretty face around here.” He gave her a nod before scanning the newest group to step onto the terrace. “I never get a chance to see you at the club. By the time I hear you’re in the building, you’ve already left.”

  “Not enough time in the day,” she said with an apologetic lift of her shoulders. “I’ve been busy working on the proposal.”

  “I’m afraid we’ve done a poor job of showing you the more exquisite pleasures of our fair city. From the moment you arrived, it’s been work, work, work and more work.”

  “There’s a lot to do,” she reasoned.

  “If you’re not doing anything special Wednesday night—if you can manage it—I wondered if you would like to accompany me to the Yurman party. They renovated the downtown store. There will be plenty of press there. Perhaps a few helpful contacts for you.”

  “That would be excellent. I would love to go.”

  “Great. Unfortunately, I was only able to secure one additional invite. Do you suppose Len and Raja will be overly upset if they have to sit this one out?”

  Thandie turned to search the girls out in the crowd. It was easy. Both girls were surrounded by a small group of men. They stood near a table, where a tall ice sculpture in the shape of a large R, for Radcliffe, was prominently mounted in the center.

  What she saw next sent a tremor of panic up her spine. With the support of one of her admirers, Raja was assisted to stand on top of the table. In order to make sure she did not tumble backward, the stranger supported her by keeping a firm hand planted on her bottom. Raja did not seem to mind because she was too preoccupied delivering an impromptu speech. Although Thandie could not hear what was being said, the crowd of men found it humorous.

  With a wave of her hand, she presented Len, who smiled and did a silly curtsy. Holding a shot glass filled with dark liquor up in the air, Raja began to slowly pour it on top of the frozen R. Len, having positioned her mouth on the lower tip of the sculpture, began sucking the liquor as fast as she could. The men clapped and cheered her on.

  Thandie was horrified. She wanted to turn away from the scene. It was just like the girls to embarrass themselves in front of a crowd.

  To make matters worse, Warren was pushing his way through the group. She held her breath for his reaction. He would either explode or do something equally irrational. When she saw his weathered face break into a wide grin and beg for his turn to be fed by Raja, Thandie turned her back on the spectacle.

  Rex gave her a look of concern. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Do you want me to calm things down over there?”

  “No.” She took a long drink from her glass. “It would only make things worse.”

  Rex studied the group carefully before slowly saying, “I gather they are always this enthusiastic.”

  “You have no idea,” said with a heavy sigh.

  Rex smiled. “Is their boss just as daring?”

  At this, she had to laugh. “Not even close.”

  Thankfully, he directed her farther out onto the balcony, where the noise from the party competed with the rolling waves of the ocean. To preoccupy her thoughts, Rex entertained her with stories from his past. Israeli born, Rex was raised in Spain for most of his life, before his family migrated to London. Thandie found his story fascinating.

  Whether he’d done it purposely or not, he’d managed to make her forget about the scene Len and Raja were causing indoors. Rex became distracted when a new wave of guests arrived. He pointed out various people in the crowd, careful to highlight those who
m he thought would be of interest to Thandie.

  “Who’s that?” Thandie asked, pointing across the patio to a photographer who appeared to be quite popular with the party attendees. Instead of asking people for permission to photograph them, the guests gravitated toward him.

  “Ringo Papler,” Rex supplied. “Freelance photographer. Seems to work for all the Miami society papers. Everybody wants to be shot by him. His pictures always seem to land on the cover page. Warren was smart to invite him. Ringo can make or break a shindig.”

  “And the woman snapping directions?” she asked, nodding to a white-haired woman with oversize black glasses, snapping her boney fingers and spitting demands to a young photographer.

  “Oh, that’s Mira Dietrich, the editor-in-chief of Look. She’s practically royalty around here. She can make life very easy for you if she likes you. The problem is she hates everyone. You’ll get to know her soon enough. She makes a point to meet all the new talent in town.”

  Eventually, Rex led her back inside. By now, the girls had retired their drinking game and were attempting salsa moves with a pair of ardent dance partners. Other guests had joined in, and soon the center of the living room was clustered with dancing couples.

  A group of newcomers filtered into the house. Thandie looked up and recognized a familiar face among the clutch of strangers. It was Romero. The party had now been in progress for over two hours. Thandie wasn’t sure if she was more surprised by his late appearance, or by the realization that he had friends.

  Smug as ever, Romero entered the room with a confidence uncommon for his young years. It was no time at all before people began circling around him, pressing in, eager to talk to him.

  Thandie leaned toward Rex and asked, “What do you think they’re asking him?”

  “The same thing we want to know.”

  “Which is?”

  “Where is Elliot,” he said simply. “If anyone knows, it would be Romero.”