2. Aria
TWO
Aria
W ith another two pitchers down, I look at my watch and see the time. We agreed we wanted to dance, so a club it is. But my feet are already starting to hurt, I really want to kick off my heels and walk barefoot. Getting up out of my chair carefully, I stand on my heels and find my balance, pressing my hand to the pillar next to me until I’m upright and steady on my feet. As we walk through Expressions, Stacy stops every few steps to say goodbye to different people. It takes us a few minutes to get out the door but when we do, the cool air on my face is welcomed.
The walk to Opulence is only a few minutes, so I take off my stilettos and carry them until we reach the front of the nightclub. “I should’ve worn my Crocs.”
Stacy gasps. “Not fucking likely.”
After being out in the cool fresh air, the alcohol we’ve already had hits me, and I feel a little tipsy. I haven’t drunk this much in so long. Stacy giggles at me, I have to narrow my eyes to focus on her. Her arm loops mine to keep me close.
She leans into me, “You need to act sober or these assholes are not letting us in.”
I steady my stance but the giggle falls from my lips. A giggle? I don’t giggle; I’m not one of those girls. Or maybe I am, but just never given the chance.
As we reach the end of the line, I look up at the huge doorman and smile sweetly, he shakes his head as he lifts the red rope to let us through. “Have a good night, ladies.”
“Why thank you.” To my ears I sound appreciative but from the smirk the doorman gives me and the tug on my arm from Stacy, I’m guessing I sound as pissed as I’m feeling. I wave to the doorman and shuffle my feet along in small steps to catch up with Stacy. Once we’ve paid the entrance fee, we go through the double doors into a huge lobby, there’s a staircase leading up to the first floor, some restrooms and two other sets of doors. I stare at the decor. The name fits this place well. The red carpets and gold tones set it off. It’s grand, alright. A coat store stands off to the side and while I stand here and gape at my surroundings, people walk around me, bumping my shoulders left and right. I’m pulled along again as we go through the next set of doors, nodding at the next doorman in thanks.
The music thumps and a heavy scent fills the air as we move through the large space, it’s not too full right now and there’s room to breathe as we find a spot at the bar. We order our drink of choice, a vodka with lemon and lime for me and gin for Stacy. Then we move away from the bar and find a spot near the dance floor. There’s some dance tune on, and in my drunken haze I can’t even make out what it is, but the tune is amazing. My body moves to the music as I sip my vodka through a straw.
“Ah man, I need to dance.”
Careful not to spill my drink, I make my way to the dance floor. I turn to make sure Stacy is behind but she’s still standing there looking on, smirking at me. “Come on… Pleeease?”
Her eyes roll but she starts to move forward, and in my excitement, I spin back around but clumsily collide with a hard body. “Oomph.” My hands press against the wall in front of me in the hope I don’t faceplant the ground. As my eyes flicker open, I’m mesmerized. A suit clad body stands firm with his hands gripping my biceps. Man, he smells so good. His scent clouds my senses, and all I can think is, Gabriel never smells this good. The drink spills over my hand and brings me back to my senses, but his shirt is wet beneath my palms. I admire his form, dragging my gaze up his body until I reach his eyes. When I say man, I mean God. I can’t tell much in this light, but shit, his eyes are stunning. They're bright blue and his hair is the darkest brown, almost black. The glass slips from my fingers, hitting the ground, but I can’t tear my eyes away from his face. There should be a law about looking that good. I also seem to have lost the ability to speak.
“Are you okay?”
The baritone in his voice rumbles over the music as his hands cup my shoulders to keep me upright.
In my daze I hear Stacy’s voice at the side of me. “Fucking hell, Ari. What are you doing?”
“I’m so sorry, she’s a little tipsy.” She apologizes for me because I’m still mesmerized.
“Don’t be.” He says kindly.
As his eyes roam over my face, his perfectly shaped lips grin and his brows lift. I glance down at his shirt before working my way back up. “I am so sorry about your shirt.” My voice has a breathy intonation.
“It’ll dry. What’s your name?”
“Aria.” I breathe huskily.
Looking around him, I see two mountains of men flanking him. I shrink back and manage to bring myself to my senses. “Let me get you another.” Before I can decline, his thumb and finger snap and one of the men steps forward. “Get the lady whatever she’s drinking.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I shake my head, trying to get my point across. His eyes tell me he’s not going to take no for an answer, and I relent almost too easily. “Vodka with lemon and lime, please.”
“You heard the lady.” The man behind him nods, and he leans over to say something to him and then to the other. “Aria, how would you and your friend like to spend the evening in VIP.”
“Shit, seriously?” My eyes go wide, almost like they're about to pop out. Way to act cool .
I hear his laugh over the music. “Yes, seriously. Let my man escort you.” His hand touches mine and he lifts it to brush his lips across my knuckles. A shiver runs through my arm, and a lopsided smirk appears on his mouth. He leans back and releases my hand at the same time. It’s like everything moves in slow motion, but then with a swift nod he walks away with one of the guys in tow and the other waits for us. “Follow me, ladies.”
Stacy and I look at each other, an excited squeal breaks through our lips and we push through the crowd, following him closely. The guy makes a path for us and we manage to keep up. I’m amazed how the crowd parts for him, and I’ve suddenly forgotten how sore my feet are.
The guy shoves the door open and holds it for us, passing another bouncer as we slip through. We get to the end of the short corridor to find stairs. Oh no, not stairs. Suddenly my feet are screaming at me again.
By the time I’ve reached the top, my feet are throbbing. I’m ready to take my shoes off again. Somehow though, I’m not sure it’s a good look in VIP. Stopping at the next set of doors, I clutch the doorframe, curling my toes in the pointed part of my stupid shoes. I stretch them back out before following the guy with no name into the smaller area. My eyes haven’t gone back to their normal size since that man stopped me from falling. But as I look around me, I can now see this is a different kind of clientele. We’re brushing shoulders with the elite. Stacy and I share another glance and the guy shows us to a table. “Your drinks will be with you shortly.”
“Thank you.” I call after him but he's already walking away.
“Oh my fucking God. Look at this place.”
“Wow, your clumsiness really did pay off this time.” Stacy chuckles.
“Yeah, and I don’t feel as tipsy now.”
“Good, because look…” she nods her head for me to look over my shoulder and I see a bottle of champagne in a bucket, two flutes and a dish of strawberries being brought over.
“Those aren’t for us.” I turn back around and sit comfortably in my chair and watch as the waiter walks past. “It would be nice though.” I bounce my eyebrows at my bestie.
The waiter walks around the table and smiles, “Ladies. With compliments.” he places the tray down, takes the bottle from the bucket and pours the bubbly into the flutes on the tray before placing a napkin down in front of each of us and places the glass down on top of it.
Just as he goes to walk away, I fling my hand out and stop him. “Excuse me, who sent this, I was waiting on vodka.”
He sniggers, “Mr. Miguel, Miss.”
I nod at the waiter but direct a shrug at Stacy as the waiter leaves us. I’m not sure how that knowledge helped us. “Who’s Mr. Miguel?” I say to thin air and shrug again nonchalantly.
“I have no idea but I’m gonna fucking enjoy this.” She takes a strawberry from the silver dish, sucks on the juice and lifts the flute to her lips to take a sip. “Thank you, Mr. Miguel, whoever the fuck you are.” A girly giggle falls from her lips.
I grasp my glass in my fingers and sip on the delicious Champagne before I take a strawberry from the dish and drop it in the bubbles. Before I drink anymore, I let the flavors simmer. I look around me, and my mind begins to work overtime. I am so out of place up here; I stick out like a sore thumb. Downstairs, I belong. But being in VIP isn't something I’m used to. I’m a nurse for Christ’s sake. I earn a pittance to be shouted at and abused by most, when all I want to do is help them.
“What are you thinking?” Stacy’s voice cuts into my thoughts,
“That I shouldn’t be up here. It’s amazing.”
“You have every right to be up here. How do you think all these people got up here?”
I focus on the women dotted around and the men they’re with, “Maybe because they're important and they have money to throw around. They also have class, I mean look at her…” My gaze falls on a woman perched on a stool; her red loose curls fall over one shoulder as she sips from a Champagne flute. Her eyes look tired but you can tell she’s there to play a part. She’s much younger than the man she’s with, I’d say. He leans forward and her lips tighten but when he leans back, they change into a smile. It’s a false smile though.
“What about her?” I ask, “She has class.”
“She’s a trophy wife, you can tell.” Stacy exclaims as she drinks more.
Taking my eyes off her for a second I look at Stacy. “Do you think she loves him?”
“Probably loves his bank account, his ten cars, and the mansion, more.” She laughs at her own statement.
“How can people do that? Surely you have to feel something for the person. How can you sleep in the same bed with the same person night in, night out, without feeling something?”
Stacy wraps her fingers around my hand, and I look over at her. “You really are gullible. I need to toughen you up.”
“What d’ya mean?” My voice raises an octave.
“You think she only sleeps with him? Come on Ari, come back to the real world.” My lips pull into a pout and I drink my Champagne. I tear my eyes away from the woman who holds all my questions. “She’s probably got some toyboy waiting for her.”
“Lucky bitch.” I laugh and drain the liquid from my glass before topping up mine and Stacy’s drinks. “And I get stuck with Gabe.”
“Your choice, babe. There’s only you that can change that.”
We can talk up here. It’s not like downstairs where it’s so loud you can’t hear each other speak, or even hear yourself think, but while our conversation has died down for now, I use the opportunity to check my phone again. I shouldn’t give a shit whether he’s called me or not, but I can’t help it. As I pull out my cell, I turn it back on. Once it’s loaded, I find the screen still blank. Bastard. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind when I see him tomorrow. Lifting my flute, I guzzle down more Champagne. I’m going to have such a hangover tomorrow but for once I don't care. I’m in VIP at Opulence. Most people would give their right arm for this opportunity. I drag the chair I’m sitting in closer to Stacy’s and turn on my camera to snap a selfie.
It didn’t happen if there’s no photo’s - right? If I have photos, I can rub them in his face. He says all I do is work and I'm boring. Well, I’ll show him.