Friday Nights
Vex
Why don’t I pay an accountant to do this?
Because the last two stole from you.
“Vex.” Payne pokes his head in my office, letting in some of the music from the club below us.
“Yeah?”
“We just got a call from the Gatz’s security. They’re going to be ten minutes late for your meeting.”
Of course, they are. Why do I even provide safe spaces for stupid people to party? Because they pay me an even stupider amount of money for the privilege. “Is the VIP section ready for them?”
“Yeah. We cleared the entire space out for their group. We have four servers and six bouncers waiting on their arrival. I will be overseeing them all night.”
“Good. How are sales tonight?” I walk over to the window and look out at the full club below us.
“Steady. We’re going to need to bring on an extra bartender next week to handle the crowds we’re expecting the celebrity DJ to draw.”
“Add two just to be safe. And four extra bouncers.” I hate celebrities. I absolutely despise them. But they’re a necessary evil to keep revenue up. “Any problems?”
“Nah. Tac is on the door. It’s been a relatively quiet night so far.”
Those scare me. Bad things happen on quiet nights. “I’m going to go spend some time downstairs.”
“Your table is free, as always.”
“Is Roxanna coming in tonight?”
“We broke up. She wanted a new car.”
“Another one?”
Payne shakes his head. “Driving last year’s model was embarrassing her.”
“Her loss.” They never last long. That’s why I stopped bothering with relationships long ago. Women see my money and power and think it can all be theirs.
The farther down the stairs I go, the louder the music gets. I step out of an unmarked door that’s right next to my private booth.
The view from here isn’t as all-encompassing as from my office, but it’ll do. The next business I open is going to be quiet.
My eyes scan the floor randomly.
Every night there’s at least one couple that thinks they’re invisible. That no one can see them in the middle of the dance floor trying to have sex. “Nic, Marc, take care of it before they give a show we aren’t licensed for.”
My two guards head off to remove the offending couple from my dance floor and, most likely, my club .
What? Why is there a woman in a cardigan running across my club? Who let a librarian past the rope? Tac is smarter than that. Librarians don’t sneak into bars. They’re smart enough to keep themselves and their sexy little skirts out of my club.
She’s running straight at me. All it would take is a word to stop her, but I don’t utter the word.
Curiosity is going to be the death of me one of these days. But I need to know why. Why is she here? And why is she running towards the scariest person in the room? Sane… normal women run from me. They shield their children from me. They never run to me. I’m the monster in the room.
She skids to a stop, barely avoiding a fall as she slides into the booth next to me.
Curious though I may be, my hand grips the butt of my gun as I slide the safety off...
“Hello, darling.”
Her words punch me in the gut even though her breathless voice is soft and sweet.
Women say those two words to men they love, not to a random stranger in a bar.
Her eyes are anything but sweet. They move around wildly, but she doesn’t seem to actually see anything, or she’d be running in the opposite direction. Her hands shake to a beat completely unrelated to the music. But her pupils aren’t pinpoints like a junkie’s. And her breath doesn’t smell like booze.
The woman in front of me should be sitting on a floral couch with a cup of tea in one hand and a book in another. What she shouldn’t be doing is sitting in my club shaking like a leaf, making me want to wrap my arms around her and carry her back to my library.
I don’t do librarians.
She leans forward and waves of caramel silk brush against my fingers.
“Please help me. ”
She doesn’t need to say anymore because the explanation foolishly walks right up to my table.
“Come back here, you little—”
Dumb, drunk, and soon to be dead.
“Mr…Vex…Um. I didn’t…I thought…She didn’t—”
“Go now.” If he doesn’t get out of my sight now, I’m going to kill him in the middle of my dance floor.
My eyes go to Axe. There’s no need to explain what needs to be done.
There’s a room waiting for the walking dead. He’s going to regret being born before I’m done with him. And the only thing I’m going to regret is never getting to touch silk while drowning in her eyes.
Look up. Let me see them one more time.
“Thank you so much. I didn’t know what to do. I can’t believe it worked. Things on television shows never really work. It worked. I can’t believe you saved me. You saved me.”
As if she heard my thoughts, she lifts her eyes to mine.
Death is too kind for the animal that caused her this much fear.
Never have I seen such sweetness… such innocence in a woman. A man would sell his soul and burn down the world to possess a woman with those eyes.
A monster like me… shouldn’t even be in the same room as her.
She should leave.
But I can’t let her go. Not until her breathing goes back to normal and the wild fear leaves her eyes.
Those eyes will haunt me in my sleep and shatter me while I’m awake. The longer I stare into them, the more they enthrall me.
“Thank you.”
Again, two little words are a gift I don’t deserve. Courtly nonsense tries to make it out of my own lips. Only fools say, ‘It was an honor to protect a woman such as you’ or that ‘I would kill a million men to keep you safe’.
“What kind of cookies do you like?”
What? “Are you crazy?” You don’t offer a monster like me cookies. You run .
“Sometimes. But I think I’m the good kind of crazy.”
“You shouldn’t be here.” You shouldn’t be anywhere near me. The longer you’re here, the less control I have.
“I have your drinks.” Drey walks up and sets down three drinks on the table. “Two white gummy bear shots. And one glass of champagne.”
Why did she just wink at my librarian?
The color of the champagne is off. It’s just a shade or two from the pale gold it should be. There’s something… I lift the glass to my lips and take a sip.
Ginger ale. This is a glass of ginger ale with some mineral water.
She doesn’t drink.
The sweet little librarian doesn’t drink.
How did she get into my club? “Who let you into my club? My bouncers know better than to let trouble inside.” Anyone can see she doesn’t belong here.
“I am not trouble. I’ll have you know I’ve never gotten so much as a speeding ticket or detention in school. My parents never needed to ground me once. I’ve never cheated on a test or paid my taxes late. Trouble isn’t even in my vocabulary.”
That temper… “Who let you in?”
She folds her arms across her chest and glares at me. It’s like a kitten glaring at a mountain lion. “I have just as much right as anyone else to be in here.”
No. You don’t. The people who walk in these doors understand the rules. The filth found in here should never touch you.
“After the week I’ve had, I deserve to have some fun.”
“What kind of week did you have?” Someone else needs to die.
“It was my first week at a new job. Well, not my first week since I had to go in for training before this, but it was my first week actually working working, you know what I mean? I want my coworkers to like me, but this is a hard job with lots of burnout and people seem a little bit wacky. Nice. But completely nutty. A few girls from work asked me to join them for drinks after work, and I thought it would be the perfect way to get to know them. But I was wrong. I should have gone with Adonis’ group to eat dinner. Dinner was safer. It doesn’t involve drunk creeps or sexy guys that can crush bones with their bare hands, but think I’m trouble, which I’m not.”
She rambles…
“Do you think this is funny? Because let me assure you, it isn’t.”
“Definitely trouble. Who is Adonis?” So that I can kill him. It’s not logical, but the thought of any other man looking at her makes my blood boil.
“My boss. That’s his name, Adonis.” She tips her head to the side.
Her boss, the creep, wants to take advantage of his power. “Don’t have dinner with him.” I need a drink.
“Why not? How else am I going to get to know my coworkers?”
Innocent little librarian. “Because dating your boss is a dumb idea. Those things never work out. If you like the job, avoid the boss.”
“Dating my boss? He didn’t ask me out on a date. He asked me to go with the work group to eat dinner.”
How did she get into her mid-twenties without understanding how this world works? “It’s a precursor to asking you out. He’s seeing if you’re worth the effort first.”
“Excuse me? First, you tell me that I’m trouble. Then you drink my drink. Now you’re telling me that my hot boss wants to ask me out.”
You’re definitely trouble.
“My boss isn’t interested in me at all.”
Every man that looks at you is interested. They’re just afraid of taking their shot and missing. “You’re wrong.”
“Am not.”
I want to kiss those pouty lips. Focus… “Fifty bucks says he asks you out within a month.” It’s an unfair bet.
“I don’t gamble.”
“You don’t gamble, and you don’t drink. What do you do?” Women like you don’t exist in my world.
I lift my glass to my lips to avoid reaching up and brushing a finger across her wrinkled brow. “You should leave.” Before I can’t control my baser impulses .
“Fine, I’ll go, but you need to answer one question first.”
The hurt look she gives me is better than the alternative. “What?”
“What kind of cookies do you like?”
Cookies… she’s back to asking about cookies. “Chocolate chip.”
“With or without nuts?”
“That’s not one question.”
“Fine. But you’ll be stuck with whatever I pick… Um…” Her eyes go to where my arm is still wrapped around her.
Every part of me protests letting her go.
“Thank you again.” She walks out of my life forever…