Before she knew it, she was out on the runway again, stepping frantically down the length of the runway to where the cameras were eagerly waiting for their last chance to devour. The designer followed, taking a bow. Everything had gone without a hitch. Perfect.
Her thoughts returned to Ricky, yet again, and how he was faring back in Marbella, wondering if he'd managed to get things sorted. She could almost see him in the tiny space, sitting watching TV. In some way, as much as she tried to not feel that way, it felt like a betrayal, but she had no right to feel that way. She’d expected they would be perfectly happy living at her parents’ place, but he'd made this decision without her and she didn't quite know how to take that, didn't know what it meant. It did cause a little bit of an unease in her belly, but she was just being silly. Of course, they can’t meet and straightaway live together, that would be too… she didn't know what to call that. She would've been perfectly happy putting a ring on her finger and calling it a day, but perhaps that was just unrealistic.
Chapter 13
Shania pulled her little Mini into a carpark in front of a row of shops. She got out and clicked the key to lock it, walking to the café where she’d agreed to meet with Trish. The café had cast iron tables and umbrellas on the sidewalk; little barriers with advertisement canvases cordoning off the area. Trish was waving as she spotted Shania, rising so they kissed cheeks before sitting down again
“How are you?” Trish asked.
“Good,” Shania said, placing her wallet and phone down on the table. “Strange to be back, you know? I didn't expect I ever would, but here I am. Gotta go where the career takes me, right?”
“So you're a confirmed corporate type now?”
“Sure am. It’s funny how things work out.”
“Miss dancing?”
“I do in a way, but this opportunity is too good to give up. I'm learning so much. For a long time, I didn't think I was capable of doing this kind of job, and I still have moments of doubt, but I pulled through. Fake it until you make it if you have to.”
Trish smiled. She looked good—happy and tanned. “I'm really pleased for you. Glad you found something you feel really excited about.”
“Desk job not your kind of thing?” Shania asked.
“Maybe one day when I'm back in Sydney, but you know I'm here in Marbella; I don't want to spend my time in an office unless I have to.”
“Still not ready to return home, then?”
“Not yet. We’ll go someday.”
“How’s Cory?”
“Good,” Trish said with a gushing smile that Shania wanted to roll her eyes at. Trish had that smile and look on her face when she spoke about Cory. This was Trish in love. She'd always had a thing for Cory, but they were a couple and they’d been so for a while now. It must be lasting. Shania was happy for her.
“So are you working with Felix?” Trish asked.
“We work in the same building. He strictly avoids me.”
Trish bit her lip. “I'm not surprised. He was a total mess when you left. Saying that, he was a total mess while you were here. He seems to lose the plot around you. It’s probably best you two stay apart.”
“Warning me off Felix?” This was a surprise.
“I'm just saying you should be a little bit mindful of him. He’s more fragile than you give him credit for.”
Any word she would use to describe Felix; it wouldn't be fragile. Shania snorted. “Look, if he wants to act like a little bitch, that’s his problem. But don't worry, he's staying well clear of me and I honestly don’t give a shit.”
Trish sighed. For some reason, she had a strange friendship with Felix. Felix didn't like poor people, but apparently he adored Trish, depended on her and used her as a safety net of some kind. Although Cory had probably driven him away by now. Trish and Felix are funny in that they’re both dismissive of each other, but still defend each other.
“I don't care about Felix,” Shania repeated, looking away out onto the streets and the cars passing by. “He’s not my type.” That wasn't entirely true because for a while they’d gotten on like a house on fire, and it had been hot. But then Felix had gone and ruined it by expecting more than he should. He had that sense of entitlement around him, which really irked her, as if he expected her to be grateful to be with him—while he had certainly overestimated her gratitude. And as for putting this massive opportunity of a career aside for him, he was plain out of his mind.
“So how are all your friends, that girl Adelaide?” Shania said, changing to another topic of conversation.
“You never met her, did you?”
“No.” But her presence had always been like a ghost.
“I hear she's coming back soon. Obviously, I'm really excited about seeing her again. It hasn't been the same since she's been gone.”
Shania watched Trish for a moment. She didn't have that kind of friendship that Trish had with Adelaide, the person she missed like crazy when they were away. She’d had friends in high school, more of a group really, but she never had that best friend that Adelaide represented to Trish. At times, she wondered what she'd missed out on not having a best friend. But then maybe she just wasn't made that way. She valued her independence too much. Besides, friends screwed you over; she’d learned that the hard way.
Trish had never really included her in her social group, not that Shania had minded. Those Australians were all a little bit weird in her book. Theirs was a friendship that both of them knew wasn't going to last any length of time.
“Have you seen Esme?” Trish asked.
“No, I haven't. I don't quite know what to do with that relationship,” Shania admitted.
“Could make things more complicated with Felix.”
“Things are always complicated with Felix.”
Shania was getting sick of talking about Felix. It only served to highlight how superficial their friendship was.
“So how was Mexico? I've never been,” Trish said.
“It was interesting. I lived in Nevada most of my life, so Mexicans and their culture were always part of it, but it's a really different thing when you're in Mexico itself. It's an awesome country,” she said. “I’d definitely go back. It’s a cool place.”
“How’s your Spanish?” Trish asked.
“It's okay. I can get by.”
“See, I don’t know Spanish. Would that be a problem?”
“If you're outside like Tijuana or Mexico City, or some other tourist town, then yes, it would make things hard.”
Trish was obsessed with travel, as were all her friends. That was their basic purpose of them leaving Australia. For some reason, they also placed additional value on traipsing around some backwaters and far off country towns, where no one spoke English. This was beyond cool to Trish and her crowd.
Chapter 14
Jesus looked out across the pumping dance floor, watching the bodies gyrating to the pounding music. Ricky was up on the platform, doing his work. Jesus had changed his spot to earlier in the evening when the club was its busiest. Ricky had worked out well; he pulled in the customers and they loved him. Sales were up, customer numbers were too, and Ricky had been the reason.
Jesus watched the crowd for a while. There wasn't always rhyme or reason to who made a very successful DJ, but Ricky had what it took. He was handsome and the girls loved him. It was about pleasing the girls. Guys didn’t care; they went where the girls went. With the girls, you had to fire their loyalty and imagination and they gobbled up the tracks Ricky laid down.
This made Jesus turn his attention to the new club he was building, located down the coast a bit, more along the lines of a beach club. Beach clubs did well here, open air clubs that capitalised on the setting. There were a few of them, but there was room for another and leveraging off Shine’s success, Jesus hoped to repeat it in a slightly different setting.
With Ricky here, it would make sense to transfer him to the beach club, to have him as the headline act for the initial launch.
The longer Ricky was here, the better he was known. It might be time to do a bit of marketing specifically related to Ricky if that was the strategy he was to settle on. There was still a lot of work to do to repeat the success Jesus had made of Shine.
His dark eyes travelled along the club, watching women staring up at the DJ with adoration in his eyes. Jesus smiled. This was all good business.
He continued searching and his gaze settled on the blonde beauty that was Ricky’s girlfriend. She was gorgeous, a little on the thin side, but had an angelic face. Jesus knew her, a model and very successful at it. She’d been around Marbella for a while, probably grew up here. He had a memory of her when she was young and gangly, here with her friends. It could be someone else he was thinking of, he conceded.
She represented something unattainable, something others wanted. He could see why someone like Ricky would be drawn to her. A bit of a golden couple. Maybe even a little too good for someone like Ricky.
This got Jesus thinking about his beach club again. She represented what people sought after. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but it was a coolness, a sense of belonging that she had in spades. A sense of unquestioned elegance, understated and unchallengeable.
Perhaps there was an opportunity there to draw on this girl’s presence. He had Ricky, after all, why not go for the golden couple?
Still unsure what he was thinking, he walked over to her and watched her turn her clear blue eyes to him. “Hello, Jesus,” she said smiling. Perfect white teeth, a little on the small side.
“He is doing well,” Jesus said and he could see the pride in her eyes. This girl was in love with that boy and Jesus wasn't entirely sure that was a good idea. But who could challenge love? It was what it was. “Good enough to deserve top billing,” he continued. “I’ve given him the club’s busiest time.”
“They do really respond to him, don't they?”
Jesus didn't want to be completely Machiavellian, but he kept the girls coming in, staying and buying more drinks. “He is the kind of DJ a club owner wants,” Jesus admitted. “I'm working on a beach club. Might have Ricky work the launch, along with some guest acts.”
“I had heard that,” she said, turning her pale golden features to him. “How far away are you from launching?”
“The construction is almost finished. The internal fit out. Well, internal is perhaps the wrong word as it is open air, but the interiors are being fitted as we speak. There are still some issues around the marketing that need to be developed.”
“Sounds exciting,” she said. “It would be terribly exciting being involved with the opening of a club, getting to design a place.”
“You think so?” Jesus said, running his thumb along his lower lip, glad she sounded enthusiastic about the concept.
“Absolutely. Ricky would love it. I knew coming to Marbella would be good for his career. I’m sure he would do a good job. He seems to have a strong rapport with the crowd, doesn’t he?”
“It is a quality not everyone can manage. I would be stupid not to transfer that loyalty to the new club. But there’s still some issues around the fundamental club image I need to work out.” He watched her for a moment. She wasn’t a club kid; wasn’t part of this scene, but she was aspirational, the ‘It’ girl everyone wanted to be. Too nice to be hated, too successful to be overlooked; a fine line few knew how to traverse. “You have unique insight into trends. I would value your opinion.”
Surprise registered in her pretty eyes and her mouth open slightly as if she didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know anything about clubs.”
“The trick with clubs is to bring something new, something fresh. To distil a culture, and you represent a unique culture.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just an idea, unformed in entirety, but I suspect there is something there, something we could perhaps explore.”
She watched him for a moment. “I would love to,” she finally said.
“Good. Why don't you come to the club tomorrow in the morning and I will tell you about my plans.”
“Absolutely,” she said and smiled. A perfect smile, he noted yet again. In his mind, he imagined some stunning photos of her, representing the club, not her, as such, but an image she could portray. A certain chicness. Black and pale gold. She looked almost bashful under his scrutiny, aware he was studying her.
“I hope to see you tomorrow,” he said and turned away. She really was too good for someone like Ricky. As much as he appreciated what Ricky did for the business, Ricky had a slickness about him that didn’t gel with her. Besides, Ricky was partaking in the delights. No one could fail to notice, except perhaps this girl. She wasn’t the kind to look the other way, so Jesus expected she didn't know. Love made people blind.
Returning upstairs to his office, he was pleased with this development. There was something good there, in this connection, something valuable. He still wasn’t sure how or why, but she provided an opportunity of an image—aloof, assured and cool.
He'd been worried about the marketing, worried about the image. He knew it wasn't right and had a feeling he had just found a path to cracking it.
Chapter 15
It was a busy night at the club and Ricky had just come off his set. He’d worked hard; heat was coming off his body. Some night, he just felt like dancing along with the crowd. It usually was a better set when he felt like that, when he felt the beat in his bones.
It was close to two in the morning, but he was too wired to go home just yet. Again, he thanked himself for having the foresight of getting his own apartment as he’d have hated having to sneak into Megan’s parents’ place in the early hours of the morning. When it came down to it, people like them would never approve of his work or lifestyle. Megan didn’t see that. Her rose-coloured glasses were so strong, she missed most things. She was a sweet girl, but in many ways, she wasn’t particularly savvy.
Walking over to the bar, he ordered a Southern Comfort and ginger beer. He preferred coke, but not this time of night. He was, after all, trying to wind down.
That girl had been in the club that night, the dark one, with long hair and a divine body. She’d danced and talked to Trish, who for a while had pulled her up on the platform. The girl could move and he’d just about gotten a hard-on watching her from his booth.
He wasn’t sure whether she was still around, but he hoped she was as he walked around the club, checking out the various nooks and crannies, where drunk partygoers were talking, or otherwise exploring less verbal means. The bouncers dragged out anyone who got carried away while in the view of others. This club had some class. If you had to get off with someone, you could use the bathrooms. Doing it in front of others was frowned on—not that it didn’t happen, particularly this time of the night, when people were too strung out to have qualms.
“That was sooo hot,” a girl said, approaching him with her friend. “I literally danced my arse off. Fully tranced, you know?” Her voice was a little slurred and her hands were all over him. For a moment, he considered whether he wanted to take what was on offer, but decided not to. It was almost too much hassle. He smiled to himself at the thought—seriously, it was on tap here, but right now, he was searching for the dark beauty.
“Glad you liked it,” he said. He went to move on, but she still clung. “Hey, you should come back tomorrow. I’ll play a track just for you.”
“Really?” she said, clasping her hands together with as much deference as if he’d proposed. “Oh my god, that would be sooo special.”
“I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He forced himself away from the gripping hands. Whatever plans this girl had for tomorrow, on her holiday in Marbella, she would be cancelling them. No harm not pulling in the punters, he thought, but he wouldn’t even remember her in five minutes.
Keeping up his search, he was rewarded by seeing the girl he was after talking to a guy in one of the seating areas. She was seated sideways, leaning on the backrest. He felt a bit of
a rush through him seeing her there. He’d had a feeling she would be here, as if he’d been meant to find her. Hell, her body was amazing.
Sauntering over, he sat down. The guy was some bruiser with pumped pecks and a tight T-shirt. Was that her type? She turned her eyes on him; they looked green maybe. Nice face, really nice, her dark hair caressing gorgeous cheeks and lush lips painted a berry colour. Her eyes were a little glassy, so she was clearly not sober.
“Hey,” he said. “Saw you before.”
“Did you?” she said as if surprised. Unmistakable American accent. Well, that was interesting. This place wasn’t exactly crawling with Americans. What brought someone like her to a place like this? Clearly, she could dance. The guy with her was downright pissed off with Ricky barging in, but Ricky couldn’t care less. She wasn’t exactly defending his claim either.
Her lips parted slightly and Ricky wondered if he could pull her. She certainly had the body for it, and she was watching him as if curious what he would do next.
“I suggest you and me go for a drink,” he said.
She smiled slowly; it tugged at the corner of those luscious lips. “I have a drink.”
“I mean somewhere a little more… secluded.”
The guy’s mouth was drawn tight. Did he think he was in with her before Ricky had come and interrupted? Mate, a girl like that is well beyond a guy like you, he wanted to say.
The girl’s finger stroked along the rim of her glass and Ricky just about grew hard watching it. “Couldn’t help myself. You’re the most gorgeous girl here.”
She didn’t look impressed and Ricky knew he had to change tactics. Gorgeous girls were rarely flattered by pointing out the obvious. “And with moves like that, you’re a dancer.”
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