The Willingness to Burn (5 page)

Chapter 6

Afterward, they lay in bed naked. The crisp cool comforter fell disheveled upon them barely covering any of their bare bodies. Jace rested in an almost sitting position, propped up on pillows, running his fingers through Maddy’s hair and gently scratching her scalp.

“This is so amazing,” Maddy said.

“Yeah, it is. Not quite the way you expected this Saturday morning to go, huh?”

“Not if you asked me yesterday morning,” Maddy said and giggled slightly.

“I aim to surprise.” Jace smirked.

Maddy laughed slightly. “Well, then I think you’ve succeeded,” Maddy said as she leaned up to kiss him before returning her head to his chest.

The brilliant morning sun came in through the windows accenting the tropical luxury feel of the entire room.

“You know what I really want?” Jace asked, gazing out the window.

“Breakfast?”

Jace laughed. “Yes, but what else I want—”

“What’s that?” Maddy reached her arm across Jace and caressed her finger over his hip bone.

“I want to own a house down here.”

The breeze came through the open window and the thin veil that was the white curtain danced before falling. The warm breeze was a welcome change from icy cool air conditioning.

“Oh my God, that would be amazing.” Maddy propped up on his chest. “I’ll come visit all the time.” She smiled innocently.

“You’d better.”

Jace leaned forward and planted his lips on her forehead.

“I imagine it wouldn’t be too expensive, either,” he continued.

“What are you thinking? Hut by the water?”

“Well, maybe at first, but what I really want is a mansion on the water.”

“A mansion, huh?” Maddy waggled her eyebrows in excitement.

“Yeah, a mansion in paradise. Who doesn’t want that?”

“Everyone wants that,” Maddy pointed out.

“Exactly, and why settle for a hut, it’s not like you’re paying New York prices down here.”

“A hut on the water would cost like five million in the city,” Maddy stated.

“Yeah, right?” Jace pushed himself up to accommodate Maddy’s new position. “But down here, the land is practically free so might as well go big, right?”

“I like it.” Maddy smiled.

“Almost like our own private resort.”

“
Our
own private resort?”

“Well, you said you’d come and visit.”

“Oh, yes I would.” Maddy nuzzled her head into his neck.

Jace smiled. “So just imagine, a resort that you never have to wear clothes at.”

“Ooo, I like that. No more tan lines.”

Jace smirked. “Yeah, that too.”

Chapter 7

The day was grim and Jace sat in his new office and stared out the window staring into the fog that overlaid the city. It was weird for that time of year. It was as though a large gray cloud just descended upon them blotting out the view. The fog seemed to trap the humidity down on the street and under the hot August sun, and the word sweltering came to life in the city. But Jace couldn’t feel any of that from his office. All he could see was the gray sky, the sun fighting to shine through and failing miserably. It is what people thought about when they thought of the city—smog.

As Jace gazed out and daydreamed for a brief moment, Dexter boomed into his office. The door swung and slammed against the back wall.

“Jesus Christ!” Jace shouted snapping to attention.

“You can still call me Dex,” a drunken Dexter tried to say in a sly tone.

“How did it go?”

“You Sir, are looking at your newest competition.” Dexter opened his suit jacket and took a half spin.

“No shit?” Jace leaped to his feet and walked toward Dexter

“Yeah, man. Signed, locked, and loaded!”

Dexter extended his hand and Jace grabbed it to pull him in for a one-armed hug.

“Fuck yeah, bro! How much was it?“

“Eighty million.”

“This mother
fucker
,” Jace exclaimed, slapping Dexter on the chest.

“I know, right?”

“Why aren’t you slurring yet?” Jace looked down at his watch. “It’s almost four!”

“A problem I was hoping to remedy.”

“And I have just the remedy.”

Jace walked over to the bar in his office and selected a bottle of McAllen 25 and two glasses.

“Drinking all fancy,” Dexter remarked.

“It’s a celebration.” Jace poured each of them a drink.

They clinked glasses and downed the five-hundred-dollar-a-glass scotch.

“What else you got for today?” Dexter asked.

“I have a meeting with a doctor at six.”

“Yeah? Personal account or business?”

“Personal, but he’s one of the top oncologists in the country.”

“Oh, very nice.”

“Yeah, so that personal account might be worth somewhere around ten million.”

“Hey man, every bit helps.”

Jace jabbed Dexter’s arm.

“Hey man, they can’t all be homeruns. Base hits still keep you in the game.”

“Hell yeah they do. Two hundred grand will still keep the lights on.”

Jace laughed.

“Prior to today, I bet that’s more than your net worth.”

“Keyword is
prior
.”

“Now
that
is the important part. What are you doing to celebrate?”

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t wait until six.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Jace noticed Mark standing at the door.

“With Mark? That guy’s an asshole!” Jace grinned.

“Hey, fuck you Taster’s Choice,” Mark said, walking into the office.

“Hey, it was Dunkin Donuts.”

Mark grabbed a glass and the bottle.

“You know, that’s a good nickname for you,” Mark teased.

“Yeah I like it too; I’m going to tell people you came up with it after blowing me,” Jace jabbed.

Mark laughed and poured himself a drink then approached the two men and refilled their glasses.

“All right, let’s toast this bitch,” Mark said, raising his glass. “To Dex, finally nailing down a client, and
finally
getting his balls.”

Jace snapped his hand at Dexter pretending to hit him in the groin and Dexter flinched accordingly. The glasses clinked and the men drank.

“All right, you ready?”

“Fuck yeah,” Dexter exclaimed.

“Jace, you coming?”

“I’m gonna meet you, I’ve got another client today.”

“Yeah? You got it?” Mark asked.

“Yeah, I got it, It’s a lay-up from another client.”

“Those are always the best.”

Jace nodded.

“Alright Folgers, call me when you’re done.”

“Will do.”

Dexter and Mark left the office, and Jace went back to his desk to go over his presentation.

*

Hours later, Jace arrived at Club 517. The club had only been open for a few months and was at the top of the hot spot list that summer. And oddly enough, he thought as he fished in his pocket for money to bribe the bouncer, would most likely be closed by next summer. Most of those kinds of clubs were open for a year, maybe two, before they fell from fame. Then the same people would open similar clubs in different or sometimes even the same location, rename it, and popularity would soar again. And they were in the mist of the address naming phase. 212, 517, 306. All clubs booming right now on the simple idea that names were overrated. It was the experience. And also easy to find.

The music blared, and the crowded establishment was nearing its capacity as was evident by the line to get in. The bass vibrated everything. Jace made a B-line to the VIP section which was the only place for two men who just took down eight-hundred grand each.

The bouncer stopped Jace at the VIP, and before he could explain that he was with a group that was without a doubt buying the place out, he saw Dexter with his face in a short brunette’s chest.
Oh god, already
? Jace looked down at his watch and saw that it was only nine o’clock, and he knew just what Dexter was doing. Dexter then turned, looking out with a big smile on his face and saw Jace. His expression immediately changed to one of pleasant surprise, like a kid discovering an unopened gift that had been hidden deep in a Christmas tree. Dexter screamed something at the top of his lungs, which was muted by the music, then rushed over to the bouncer. Jace gave up on explaining himself and just pointed to the incoming drunkard.

Dexter side-stepped the large man and grabbed Jace, giving him a big hug, and pulled him into the VIP.

Upon reaching the table, Jace saw that they had literally bought out the entire bar, getting one of every bottle they had to offer and a few more bottles of vodka. The seven masters of the universe were surrounded by no less than fifteen beautiful women. It was referred to as a models and bottles party in the industry.

After shaking hands with a few other guys at the firm, Mark grabbed Jace and pulled him in close.

“How did it go?” he shouted in his ear.

“Locked down.”

“Signed and sealed?”

“You bet.”

“You’re a fucking beast!”

Mark pulled Jace in a headlock and Jace saw the pile of coke sitting on the glass VIP table. Mark’s enthusiasm was obviously fueled by more than just vodka.

The ready-made pile of white on the table began calling his name. Although Jace was able to avoid it for a while, he should have expected to see it there that night. But what was he going to do? Not go to Dexter’s celebration?
That would just be rude.

Jace was always amazed by how the legit, successful establishments would just let them act like they owned the place. And for the price of ten to twenty grand a night, he supposed they didn’t care. They would turn a blind eye to coke, hookers, anything. It was all in the name of business, and as he poured a drink and really thought about it, that was why they were the “it” spot of the season, and in all likelihood the reason why they never stayed open for that long—they let lunatics act like they were above the law.

Jace sat down, and almost as though they were assigned, a model, a skinny Russian girl, sat on his lap and introduced herself. She was Natalia, an aspiring ass model for Calvin Kline from Brooklyn. She loved the city and hated fur.
Typical model
, he thought. 

Mark lined up two rails of coke on the table and motioned to Jace, to which Jace gritted his teeth and politely declined. The bitter nostalgic taste of coke crept into his mouth, and a flood of anxious energy washed over him. He knew that Mark could sense that in him. As an avid user, Mark would sense the weakness and would eventually convince Jace to take another ride on the white dragon. Mark was his boss, after all, although be it in a limited capacity nowadays. Mark was just a few short steps away from being partner at that point, and it was important to stay on his good side.

The hours passed, and as they came and went, so did more bottles, more coke, and more models. Jace was well plied by Ciroc and Mark stood over Kendra, a tall European girl who had moved to New York a few months ago off the strength of her Instagram following.

Mark lined up more coke and after Jace refused, he grinned and said something that Jace couldn’t hear, then poured a vile of coke on Kendra’s exposed cleavage. Jace looked at him hesitantly, but it was just a look. He knew the second that the white power touched down on her breasts he was going back to that familiar place. Mark offered him a nod of encouragement. As Mark offered him that nod, that mentor/mentee guiding nod, Jace buried his head in Kendra’s chest. He inhaled deeply through his nose and the bitter chemical taste of cocaine, a taste that he had always been fond of, engorged his senses.  He snorted and could feel the wet drip in the back of his throat.
Oh, fuck.

Mark smiled and slapped Jace on the back.

After another drink, Jace started rubbing his temples. He wanted more. Coke wasn’t the type of drug that you did once and then you were fine. It was the type that called out to you, that beckoned repeatedly. The downfall was much worse than the continued use. Jace looked over at Mark. He ground his teeth. Mark grinned back at him from beneath the Brazilian girl whose name Jace could not remember. Dexter plopped down on the couch next to Jace and signaled to Kendra that she needed to leave so that they could talk. Or, at least, that’s what he was going for. “Get the fuck out of here” was more of the message that was delivered.

“Bro, we are going to take over this fucking town.”

“You got that goddamn right.”

“Soon enough we’ll be partners, running this shit for ourselves.”

“Hell yeah, man. Having people like us doing all the work while we sit back and cash giant motherfucking checks.”
Behold, cocaine: the drug of ambition.

“You got that right.”

Mark slammed down on the couch on Jace’s other side and screamed at them.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here. We’re taking those girls to the W.” Mark motioned to the five girls who at that point were either models or hookers, there was really no way to be sure with Mark.

“Fuck yeah! Now we’re talking,” Dexter screamed.

Jace laughed. “All right, I gotta take a piss,” Jace responded.

“I’ll go with ya,” Mark said and stood up with Jace. “Dex! Take them out the backdoor to the car.”

Dexter nodded and the two men powered through the VIP and to the restroom.

The place was crowded and there was a line. But things of that nature were no concern to Mark. The rules of normal men no longer abided. He and Jace walked to the front of the line, gave the bouncer a fist full of hundreds, and walked in the bathroom.

Mark took up the urinal next to Jace and stared straight ahead—proper bathroom code.

“So ten million, huh?”

“Yessir,” Jace said with a slight slur.

“You’re really shining, man.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, I mean that, too. You’ve locked down what, four clients?”

“Five.”

“Five clients. In what, three, four months?”

“Yeah, about that.”

“That’s fucking golden, man. Rollover fees alone you’re gonna make a few mil this year.”

“Yeah I know, man. I’m so fucking excited.”

Mark finished and walked over to wash his hands.

“You should be,” he called out. The music was low and a scream was unnecessary to communicate at short distances.

Jace finished and zipped up.

“Most people don’t make it this far. We’re the few and the proud.”

Jace laughed. “Yeah, like the marines, huh?”

“There’s a lot more of them then us.”

“That’s true.”

Jace started washing his hands and Mark held a key with coke on it to Jace’s face.

“Here ya go.”

Jace snorted and shook his head with newfound energy. After all, he had already tasted it.
What’s a few more hits? If you’re going to do it, you might as well do it right.

“Hits the spot, don’t it?”

“You got that fucking right!” Jace exclaimed with the mania only suited to a drug user.

Mark took a bump of coke himself. “All right, let’s go grab these girls.”

“Lead the way, Sir.”

Mark navigated through the club to the VIP and out the back door. There, the limo service was waiting for them, and Natalia in her short red dress was standing outside smoking a cigarette. She looked gorgeous. With her four-inch heels, fuck-me eyes, and an ass that made you believe in God, she looked like a daydream.