4. AJ
Iwatch the car until it drives down the street and the red taillights turn the corner.
“What was that about?” Cody asks me, stepping up to my side.
“Too much to drink,” I murmur, my jaw clenched.
“Those girls? They only got here, like, an hour ago,” Cody says in disbelief.
“For some, it only takes one.” I know the words are not true. She wasn’t drunk. But she pissed me off. My anger hasn’t subsided all day. My body feels sticky from the cocktails, and my lack of sex has me wound tight. I shouldn’t have snapped at her. I shouldn’t have thrown her out, and I sure as fuck shouldn’t have touched her. I roll my head to try to get rid of the tension building and get myself under control. I have never been so irritated yet so attracted to a woman in my life.
She was hard to miss, but she was sitting up in the VIP section like it was her ivory fucking tower, drinking champagne that cost a small fortune. She was fucking sexy, and I wanted to argue some more, make her mad, and then fuck her hard against the wall. That is why she had to leave.
“How’s the front door?” I ask him, ignoring my inner turmoil and focusing on how it has been tonight.
“We are pushing people through. We are almost to capacity and the line is growing. I’m not sure what is going on tonight, but it is the biggest crowd we have ever had here,” Cody says.
“We need to keep the boys on alert, there are a lot of people here. It’s hard for them to keep their eyes on the job.” My eyes flick immediately back to the dark street.
“Boys. Jimmy needs us,” Brady says, poking his head out the door.
“All of us?” I ask, curious.
“Yep. He isn’t happy about something,” Brady says, and my shitty night just got even shittier. Jimmy is a friend, but we are also in business together and Fortress really needs this job. If I can’t do security, then there really isn’t much else for me. Anxiety crawls along my skin at just the thought of failure. Now that I am getting older and fighting is not really a future moneymaker for me like it once was, I need to make Fortress a success. Failing isn’t an option.
As Cody and I follow Brady inside, I think through what could be so important that he is dragging us to his office in the middle of a busy Saturday night. But I come up empty. Because all I can think about is the feisty brunette in the red dress that was too fucking short and too fucking tight, showing me every inch of her curves. A growl vibrates in my chest, and I shake my head to dislodge the wayward thoughts.
“Alright, we’re here. What’s happening?” I say the minute we push through the office doors and see Jimmy standing at his floor-to-ceiling windows, looking at his nightclub below. The glass is tinted and one way, meaning we can see out, but no one can see in.
“What the fuck just happened in the VIP area?” he spits out, looking at me sharply.
“What are you talking about?”
“Did you, or did you not, just throw Valerie Van Cleef out of my club?”
“Who the fuck is Valerie Van Cleef?” I huff out a laugh, having no idea what he is talking about.
“The woman you just escorted from the VIP lounge by picking her up and walking her out, dumping her at the door,” he says, his nostrils flaring.
“Oh, the woman we kicked out?” Cody says, putting two and two together.
“She was drunk,” I tell him simply, but I have a feeling that reason wouldn’t be enough for Jimmy with how he’s reacting.
“She only got here a fucking hour ago and had one glass of champagne!” Jimmy yells, and I straighten.
“What the hell is going on?” Brady asks, us three boys not understanding what the problem is.
“Fucking Valerie Van Cleef. Richest woman in Baltimore. Was just thrown out of my club by you! Didn’t you see the line! The fact that she was here tonight almost tripled our custom! And you go and kick her out! Have you lost your fucking mind?” And… the penny drops.
“Fuck me, she looked like she bathed in money. Now I know why,” Cody says, as Jimmy and I stare at each other. I can’t say I have heard of her before, but Jimmy seems to know exactly who she is. She did look good. Different from all the other women in the club. Her dress was perfect, her hair was perfect, her lips, nails, shoes, body, everything about her was fucking perfect.
“Fuck. I didn’t even get a photo for socials,” he grumbles as he runs his hand through his hair. “She can literally make or break this club. If she puts it out on social media she was here, the lines next week will be double. Now, after you threw her out, the opposite will probably happen, and the club will go under, and we will all be without a job.”
“Fuck,” I murmur, as the last half an hour finally settles in.
“Fuck is right.” Jimmy sighs.
“What can we do?” Brady asks, stepping forward, all three of us now knowing what is at stake.
“I’m not sure there is anything we can do. But I will try to call her or her friends this week, see if I can get them back so you can apologize to her,” he says, looking at me.
“I am not fucking apologizing,” I mutter. I don’t want to see her again. I can’t see her again. The vision of her is now permanently burned into my eyes and the feeling of her in my arms felt too fucking good.
“If you want this fucking gig, you will. Now get out of here,” Jimmy dismisses us, and I don’t wait before I bolt out the door. Angry at myself. Angry at Jimmy and angry at Little Miss Perfect.
But I know I don’t need to worry because she won”t be back. Women like her never come back.
As I step onto the main floor, the music is louder and the people appear drunker. It is past midnight and nothing good ever happens after midnight. Rolling my shoulders, I crunch my knuckles. Four more hours until I can call it a night, then sleep for a few hours before heading back to the gym. Because when you come from nothing, you work for everything.
There is no driver coming to take me home. I need to look after myself.