Men of Mayhem (68 page)

“We’re doing amazing numbers at the door even with it being ladies’ night. There’re at least a hundred outside waiting to get it.”

“They may be in sooner than expected. Some asshole has been keeping bar three private and hasn’t had a bottle in two hours. The bar is doing zero business up there.”

“Do you need me to go up?”

“No, that’s why you heard me yelling. Joey’s relaying the information for me. I told him to tell that entitled bastard to either start buying or get the fuck out.”

“I don’t understand why they’d let that go on. They know the rules.”

“Obviously not. Make sure they learn them again, or no more private parties. This night was important. I wanted to see if we could give the ladies a night free with the rest handled. Even though the numbers are fucking awesome, they could be better.”

My desk phone rang, and I reached for the receiver.

“Yeah?”

“Boss, he’s leaving. Said a few things, his entourage said a few things. I’m having them escorted out now.”

“Good, make sure all of them get ID’d. I don’t ever want them to step in here again.”

“Already done.”

I hung up the phone and stood quickly away from my desk. I walked over and stood at the two-way mirror that surrounded the whole length of my floor. I kept my gaze focused on the far wall and watched as the party of assholes was led down the stairs and out of the club.

“Ah, damn. Is that the football player…Sam something?” Luke asked.

“Yeah, he’s lucky. I should have gone up there and introduced my fist to his face.”

“We don’t need that at all, Nico.”

“I know, I’m just…I don’t know, still pissed about this shit tonight.”

“Sorry I didn’t catch what Derrick had done sooner, Nico. He had it hidden well. Who would have thought he could fix the invoices to look like we were getting shorted product?”

“From now on, I need you or Bobby to do it. Don’t let anyone from the outside work on it anymore.”

“Will do. So, you haven’t said anything,” Luke added, as I continued scanning my club.

“Said anything about what?”

Luke laughed a little, and I turned to see what was so funny. “Man, where is your head? Look.” He pointed behind me.

Turning, I saw it. I didn’t know how I hadn’t noticed it before. In the middle of the floor by the far wall was a floor to ceiling pole with a platform.

“There’s a stripper pole in my office.”

“Yeah, for entertainment.”

“Yours or mine?” I questioned.

“Everyone’s.” He laughed.

“Thanks, man.”

“What are friends for?”

I shook the hand of my oldest friend, one of the few people I trusted with my life. I knew he had my best interests in mind, and for him to put that pole in my office was fitting.

A flash of something sparkly glowed to my right, and my eyes zeroed in on it. There, sitting on one of the couches, was a beautiful brown-haired woman who looked completely out of place. Even more so when a man slid onto the couch next to her. She glanced up, her eyes widening in surprise. I watched her mouth move, her head shake
no
before she moved away, but he followed.

“I’m going to get a drink,” I said before heading out of my office and down the stairs.

I made my way through the throngs of people as I watched her get up and head for the bar. I slowed my pace a little bit to observe. The guy on the couch glanced between the girl and his friends. The looks they shared didn’t seem right, so I watched for a moment as he shifted something in his hand.

I gestured to one of my guys, and he stepped over to me.

“That one on the couch,” I said. “And the group over there by the pillar. Escort them out, please. Before you do, have one of the door guys check them. They’re holding something, and I don’t think it’s legal.”

“Yes, boss.”

She remained at the bar, her gaze down as she stared intently at her girly pink drink as if frightened it would get up and walk away. I prepared myself with each step; I would introduce myself using my fake name, buy her a drink or two, and see where the night led us.

I walked over and stood behind her for a minute. Her body stilled. I could smell the faint scent of vanilla coming from her hair. I walked in closer and stood shoulder to shoulder with her, watching her face flush and her fingers twist and twirl the straw in the glass.

It’s okay, my beauty. You don’t need to be afraid of me.

Christianna

I wondered if they put something in the water to make men so rude. When the guy sat next to me, I told him I wasn’t interested, that I had a boyfriend even though I don’t. Finally I told him to go away, and when he moved closer to me, I figured the only safe place was at the bar surrounded by people. Maybe I could hint to one of the bartenders for help. They wouldn’t let me be harassed all night, right?

When I asked for another drink, I took a chance to look around to see if I could find my sister. Alex had been dancing with a man who couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and it was intense watching them move across the floor. I felt like a voyeur, watching as they danced slow and seductive. Then I turned back around just as my drink was placed before me. I slid the man a twenty, telling him to keep the change as I took a hearty sip of the concoction.

I felt a bump from the side and then another, which had me a little freaked out. In my college days, they lectured us about date rape drugs and how easy it would be to slip it into your drink. I always worried about that, especially in this setting. I wasn’t sure what anyone would do. I certainly didn’t want to take any chances.

And then I felt something that I couldn’t describe, like a sensation of someone watching me and
wanting
me. I shifted before straightening as the feeling moved closer. I didn’t see him, but I didn’t need to. Whatever was happening between us seemed to be radiating off him in waves. I could smell him, a mix of rugged man and fresh laundry. I probably looked like a dope because I kept inhaling him repeatedly. Something desperate in me wanted to register his scent to my memory.

I watched as he placed both hands on the bar, and I admired them for a second from the corner of my eye. They were big, and he wasn’t wearing a ring. He never said a single word nor gestured with his hands to the bartender but when I looked up I saw the bartender call out that he’d be right with him.

I took another sip of my drink, twirling the straw again one final time.

Well, at least the scenery is nice to look at
, I thought, before setting my drink back down. I noticed a subtle movement to my right, and then the man leaned in a foot from my face and smiled.

“Hello,” he said, and I turned slightly toward the sound of his voice. He had exquisite silvery gray eyes that seemed to twinkle as he looked intently at my face.

“Hi.”

“My name is Mason.” He extended his hand, and I slid my hand into his and shook it in return.

“Christianna.”

“Lovely name.” A green bottled beer was placed before him.

“Thank you,” I said with a smile, his eyes still locked on mine.

“So, Christianna, I’m not going to encounter a pissed off boyfriend while I’m standing with you, am I?”

I giggled, then covered my face. “Um…no, no boyfriend.”

“You’re not here alone, are you?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“No, not alone. My sister is out there dancing.”

“And what, you don’t dance?”

“I do dance, it’s just that this isn’t really me. I’m not a dance club kind of girl.”

“I understand.” He took a swig of beer.

“So what about you, Mason? Why aren’t you dancing?”

He smiled, big and bright, before placing the now empty bottle on the bar. “Well, if I may be honest…”

“Please.”

“I was wondering where my night was going to take me and then a shimmer caught my eye. You. So I came over, and here I am. Would you care to dance with me?”

“Okay.” I left my empty glass on the bar.

“You should never leave your glass unoccupied. Bad things can happen,” he warned.

“Oh, I know. I’m done with it.”

Mason gestured with his hand and the glass and his bottle were scooped up by one of the bartenders.

We glided out on the dance floor, the music and mood changing so rapidly, as if someone had created this moment just for our dance. Mason placed one of his hands on the small of my back before using the other to place my hand on his bicep. I placed my other hand on his other arm.

He didn’t dance close, the way the guys did in high school or the way the guys at frat parties did. Although he remained close enough so it looked to outsiders that we could possibly be a romantic couple. My gaze never left his face, my hands stroking and caressing the muscles of his forearms underneath his perfectly tailored jacket.

The slow songs seemed to go on forever. I raised my hands to his shoulders before both of my hands rested softly at the back of his neck. As we danced, it started to feel as if we were in another place at another time. I didn’t see anything around us because my sole focus remained on him.

Suddenly we were just standing in the middle of the dance floor. His hands gripped my waist harder than he’d ever touched me. When I finally snapped out of it, I noticed we were standing in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by a bevy of gyrating bodies and women who were rubbing up against him.

Mason shielded me from the group, making his way through the throngs of people. He led me up a set of stairs that seemed a bit quieter than where we were. By the time I reached the top step his hold on me lessened and I was able to take in my surroundings. We seemed to be on another level of the club. I could still hear the music downstairs but it had gotten quieter and the softer music was playing up here.

Leading me to a quiet corner, Mason tucked me into his side on the booth. I didn’t understand why he’d made this move though it made me feel a way I’d never felt before.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked while brushing the hair out of my face.

“Yes, please.” I smiled, and he stood up and walked toward the bar.

I watched as he spoke to the bartender while the drinks were being made. As soon as they were done, he walked back over to me, scooting in next to me. His eyes were only on me, and he only seemed interested in me. It shocked me, considering all the beautiful women surrounding us.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he said. It seemed as if he genuinely wanted to know.

Taking a sip of liquid courage, I smiled before I answered. “I just graduated a few months ago from college, started working at a local PR firm downtown last month.” I didn’t offer much detail. I didn’t normally tell people much about me, only the necessary things. I tried to be as vague as I possibly could without seeming strange.

“What degree did you get?”

I smiled again, hoping he didn’t see me as a nerdy bookworm. “I graduated with dual degrees in communication and English literature.”

“So, you can pretty much discuss your love of books with added flair.”

I nodded, taking another sip. “I can.”

“I bet your parents are very proud of your accomplishments.”

“They are. I’m the baby, so they thought I did too much at times, but they were the loudest people during my graduation so I knew I made them proud.”

“How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

“I have three sisters and one brother. Do you have any siblings?”

“Nope, I’m an only child. Which is rare in my family. I do have a best friend who my parents treat like another son.”

“May I ask why it’s rare?”

“Well, because my family is Italian and they live for big families.”

Nodding again, I understood. My parents were also Italian and the size of our family reunions could rival the populations of some towns.

Mason scooted in closer to me, running his fingers through my hair. His face close, his eyes locked on mine. I glanced down at his lips, perfect and ready. I wanted to kiss him. No, I
needed
to. I leaned in, pressing my lips to his before curling my hand around the back of his neck.