Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Levette
The sound of construction was beginning to piss me off. One more drill being used, and I would be tempted to drive a screw through the skull of its workman.
After meeting with Lena, I signed the contract for the building I’d had my sights on for years.
When I told her that I had thought it all through, I meant it.
Life had been unfulfilling for years, and I was completely and utterly bored.
It was due to that boredom that I had created a whole business plan for a New Orleans club at least five years before I’d even taken the idea to Lena.
Preparation was key, and I was nothing if not precise in my planning.
“You good, boss?”
I scrubbed my face, accepting a glass of blood from Jack. “Peachy.”
Jack laughed, following me to the back room that was part storage, part office. “What’s on your mind?”
“The fucking noise,” I replied bluntly, dropping into the seat behind the makeshift desk we had. “How long until construction ends?”
“Three weeks for construction, two after that for interior refurb.”
“We can’t pay them to go quicker?”
Jack shook his head, pointing at the numbers on the invoice in front of me. “We’re already paying them a ridiculous amount to go this quickly. Humans can only work so fast, boss.”
I rolled my eyes. Humans were wonderful, but also pitifully weak sometimes. It was infuriating when you wanted things done at vampire speed, but had only mortals to do the work. I was not a creature made to be patient.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I brought it out, smirking when I saw that it was a text from Lena. Maggie was taking advice, after all.
Lena:
My liaison is arriving. Best behavior, asshole.
Lena:
Also, sorry. I needed someone I trusted.
Lena:
Play nice. This is how we get Ria back.
I squinted my eyes suspiciously, firing off a simple thumbs-up emoji back in reply. After signing a few documents for Jack to send off, I went back out to the heart of the club and awaited the arrival of Lena’s lackey.
The door creaked open—another thing that would need replacing—and I looked up, annoyed by yet another noise giving me a migraine. I stared, a little dumfounded for once, unable to comprehend what I was seeing.
“Warren,” I whispered, barely audible to even my own ears. His name was like an exhale from my lips, and suddenly I was picturing all the other times I had called his name: whispers, prayers, screams.
For a moment, we both stared at each other, unmoving. After an extended lifetime, you would think that there would be nothing to shock me. But a hundred years without laying eyes on him was torture, and now he was standing in the same room as me, looking like no time had passed.
He stood by the doorway in a silky, emerald shirt and tight, black pants tucked into chunky combat boots.
He was as handsome as ever, his shirt accentuating the vibrant orange of his hair and complementing his pale skin.
There was never a day in his life that Warren had not looked like the most handsome man that God ever allowed to grace the earth.
Warren blinked, his hand clenched around his bag as though he was tempted to turn around and walk out, pretending nothing had ever happened.
“She didn’t tell you, did she?” Warren asked quietly. He shook his head, chuckling lightly. “Little minx.”
Silence stretched between us, our history hanging heavy over our heads.
“A hundred years and here we are, looking at each other as though we’ve never met before; like we’re strangers.”
“We are strangers,” Warren replied, his response automatic and, with the wince of regret after the words fell from his lips, unintentional. “But no stranger in the world has ever looked at me with the intensity that you do, Monsieur.”
I laughed then, all tension leaving my body. Teasing—he was teasing me.
We stepped towards each other at the same time, slowly and deliberately. I looked him over, smiling. “You look—”
“The same?” he replied, rolling his eyes. “We are vampires.”
He said the word without malice or grief, and I realized that in our time apart, Warren had done exactly what he had originally intended…he had healed.
I shook my head, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him, making sure he was real. “No, that wasn’t what I was going to say. Vous avez l'air différent. Better, happier.”
Warren smiled, unburdened by the weight he used to carry on his shoulders. It was breathtaking. “I am. The world did not break me as I once thought it would.”
Suddenly, having so much space and awkwardness between us felt insane. I moved first, stepping closer and wrapping my arms around him in a hug, holding on as though I expected him to disappear.
Warren stayed still for a moment before he unfroze, wrapping his arms around my waist in return. Our bodies relaxed into each other, and I sighed, letting myself have one moment of unfiltered joy.
There was no gracefulness to the hug, no holding back.
A century of missed embraces made me desperate to have him close again, even for a moment.
Memories clicked into place of everything we had done together and lived through; heated arguments, devastating lows, the most beautiful, tender moments that made the world feel right.
We pulled away from each other slowly, not quite stepping away entirely.
“So,” he said, gesturing to the construction happening around us, “I guess we’re working together.”
“Indeed.”
We both laughed, a little awkward and unsure. Neither of us was uncomfortable, but a lot of time had passed, and we no longer knew each other. It was a weird feeling to be in a room with someone you had promised to love forever, knowing that your story didn’t end with a happily ever after.
Over one hundred years ago, we had parted as heartbroken lovers. Now we stood together again, a whole new future to figure out together.
“Show me around?” Warren asked.
I grabbed the floor plan from the office and laid it out between us on a table.
“This is what I want it to look like. We need a long walkway into the club, and keep it dark for the ambiance. That leads into here,” I said, pointing to the large square in the middle, “which would be the dance floor. I want a stage at the back here so we can host live music events when we need to, but I figure we’d mostly be using a speaker system.
Booths along each side of the dance floor so that if anyone wants privacy to feed, they can get it there without being out of our security’s sight. ”
Warren hummed his approval, leaning closer to see the scribbled notes I had around the edges. I inhaled slowly, his scent enveloping me and making my mouth water.
Clearing my throat, I pointed to the sectional rectangle at the opposite end of the stage. “This would be the bar. We’ll have one half for alcohol and the other for blood so that we can cater to both clienteles.”
“This is great, Levy,” Warren said, looking up to grin at me. “Really, I mean it. Lena is going to love it.”
I smiled back, nodding. “Okay, and here,” I said, getting excited to have his approval, “is a restricted area. It leads to the stairwell going to the second level.”
“What’s up there?”
“My office, obviously,” I replied smugly, laughing when Warren rolled his eyes. “Whole panel of huge glass windows overlooking the entire club, but it’ll be one-way glass. That way, I can keep an eye on everyone without having to be down there and mingling every night.”
Warren sat up, watching me for a moment. “You really have this shit figured out. You want this.”
I nodded. He was right. I had thought this through, created so many versions and blueprints until it was practically perfect. I wanted it so badly, and I was determined to make it happen.
“Good. Then let’s get to work. Put me to use, Levy.”
Those words shot straight to my cock, and I looked away, determined not to let him see the effect he still had on me. I had to be professional.
I could do this.
December, 2024 (New Orleans)
The construction inside the club was almost done, and I was eager to get started on making it look like something other than a crime scene.
To my surprise, it had been easy to bring Warren up to speed and begin our working partnership.
The coven business Lena had sent him over the years had given him extensive management expertise and the ability to get things done quickly, which I was extremely grateful for.
Jack and Warren had run into each other within the first two days of Warren’s arrival, and I braced myself for a bloody battle between them.
Though there was nothing between Jack and me, there was no guarantee that Warren, in his new state of mind, could see that.
I was pleasantly surprised when Warren extended his hand to the other vampire and offered an apology for the last time they had met.
Jack accepted, though I could tell my right-hand man was anything but trusting of my ex-lover.
I had explained the curse years ago, but Jack was loyal and cared less about his broken arm than about how devastated I was to have lost Warren once again.
Their truce made things easier to get work done. I was able to keep Warren up to date with everything I was doing, while relying on Jack to ensure my other businesses were thriving despite my absence.
By the time Christmas rolled around, we were already making strides in our plans for the club.
The one thing we could not decide on, however, was the name.
Every idea was vetoed by Warren, insisting that a demographic wouldn’t like it or that it reflected my age.
I wanted to strangle him every time he said no to my choices, but that line of thinking often led to memories of other types of choking, and I had to excuse myself before I made a move.
I was trying my best to honor Lena’s rules.