15. Chapter 14
Over the last few weeks, little problems around Heaven’s Door started piling up faster than Marcus could fix them.
At first he blamed it on stress and people getting careless.
Wrong inventory orders. Missing deposits.
Dancers showing up late or quitting without notice.
Just small shit that came with running a packed club every night.
But lately it felt like every time Marcus handled one problem, another one popped right back up waiting on him. The tension around the club been thicker than usual, and everybody felt it. The staff was snapping at each other, the promoters were complaining, and security stayed on edge.
Tonight was already in the works to be another damn headache for him.
Heaven’s Door was packed before midnight even hit. The music was poppin' like always. Bottle girls rushed through the crowd carrying sparklers while dancers floated from section to section chasing money and attention. Friday nights usually ran smooth when Marcus handled VIP reservations himself.
Usually.
Tonight was a different story.
Marcus stood near the bar scrolling through his phone with frustration written all over his face while one of the security guards leaned close trying to explain something over the music.
“What you mean they both booked Section A?” Marcus snapped.
“I’m telling you what they saying,” the guard yelled back. “Both parties got confirmation texts.”
Marcus cussed under his breath and pushed through the crowd toward VIP. The second he got upstairs, the whole section was already turning into a damn circus.
A group of men wearing designer and heavy chains stood near the couches arguing with another party that had just walked in carrying bottles and birthday balloons. Everybody was talking over each other while one of the promoters kept trying to calm things down before it got ugly.
“Nah fuck that,” one man barked. “I spent ten bands on this section already.”
“And I got confirmation yesterday!” the other man shouted while waving his phone around. “So who the fuck y’all playing with?”
Marcus snatched both phones trying to figure out what happened.
Both confirmations were real.
They had the same section, booked at the same time, with the same hostess signature.
He couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. “How the fuck this happen?”
Nobody answered him. The DJ kept the music going but the energy in VIP shifted fast. People started going live recording the altercation.
Dancers whispered to each other backstage.
Security moved closer because arguments inside Heaven’s Door usually ended with blood on the floor if they continued too long.
Marcus ran a frustrated hand over his beard while trying to fix the mess before it ended up somewhere online.
“Aight, listen,” he said tightly. “I’ll move one party to the VIP section and cover two extra bottles. We gon handle this.”
“Nah,” one of the men snapped. “You handle it now. Cause this shit got us looking stupid.”
Downstairs, June stood near the bar watching everything unfold while Mercedes mixed drinks beside her.
“You think Marcus is okay?” Mercedes asked while glancing upstairs.
"He'll figure it out." June said as she sipped her drink.
Back upstairs, Marcus was damn near sweating now. One problem turned into three when another waitress rushed over saying the premium liquor order never got delivered either.
“What you mean it never came?” Marcus barked.
The waitress looked nervous. “They said nobody confirmed the payment.”
Marcus stared at her like he was about to lose his shit.
Everything that could go wrong tonight was happening back-to-back: Phones were ringing off the fuckin' hook regarding complaints, VIP guests demanding refunds, promoters stressing over not meeting deadlines and customers actin' like they ain't have a lick of common sense.
The whole club felt seconds away from falling apart.
And right in the middle of all the chaos, June finally made her way upstairs.
Marcus rubbed his forehead trying not to snap on everybody around him.
“Baby…” she said gently while touching his arm. “Take a breath.”
Marcus exhaled hard and looked at her like she was the only thing keeping him sane at that moment.
“I don’t even know what the fuck going on tonight.”
June frowned slightly while rubbing the side of his arm. “You been stressed for weeks,” she said. “Maybe you just need rest.”
Marcus shook his head in frustration. “Everybody's fucking up tonight.”
June fixed the collar of his shirt before smoothing her hands against his chest. “Bae, look at me,” she said.
Marcus finally lifted his eyes to hers.
“You built this place from nothing. One bad night ain’t enough to break you.” She reassured him.
The tightness in his face eased just a little while she rested her arms around his neck.
And standing there with June pressed against him while Heaven’s Door unraveled floor by floor downstairs, Marcus really started believing everything was still under control.
The club was still trying to recover from the disaster earlier.
Staff rushed around fixing sections while security stayed tight near VIP in case another argument popped off.
Marcus had been in a fucked up mood all night ever since the double booking situation blew up in his face, and everybody around Heaven’s Door felt it.
June sat beside him inside the owner’s section with one leg crossed over the other while the new diamond bracelet that Marcus gifted her sparkled against her wrist. Marcus barely let her out his sight lately.
Every time somebody approached the section, his hand found her thigh like some silent reminder that she was attached to him now.
Everyone picked up on it.
Especially STG Maverick.
The section curtains pushed open and the energy changed instantly when STG Maverick walked in with two members of his entourage behind him.
STG wore a matte-black Moncler puffer vest over a zipped-up grey track jacket and stacked Amiri jeans falling over a pair of some fresh gray New Balance 990's.
On his neck he wore a custom diamond chain that would blind the paparazzi cameras if they were around, an iced out Cartier Santos watch frozen on his wrist, and a classic Philadelphia Phillies fitted hat sitting low over his curly hair with a clean tapered fade.
He had that same look in his eyes like he never walked into a room worried about another nigga.
A few people nearby straightened up the second they saw him. Marcus was chillin' on the couch while June looked up from her drink. Maverick’s eyes landed on her first.
“Damn Ms. Lady,” he muttered with a grin. “So this where you been hiding at?”
June laughed before Marcus answered for her. “She ain’t hiding. She right where she supposed to be.”
June already felt the energy and neither man even raised his voice yet. Maverick stepped further into the section before dropping down across from them like he had every right to be there.
“I can’t even lie,” he said while looking at June again. “Ever since that night backstage, shawty been stuck in my head a lil bit.”
Marcus gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah? Well, keep them thoughts to yourself, homeboy."
Maverick allowed Marcus' comment to roll down his back. “Nah,” he said in a casual tone. “I just like women that stand out. Hard to find that nowadays.”
Marcus sat his drink down to light his blunt. “And I like niggas that know when to shut the fuck up.”
Someone in the section whistled. June looked between both men then scanned the VIP section wondering where the fuck security was at in case shit got ugly. She was not about to play referee between two big ass niggas.
Maverick stared at Marcus for a few seconds before smiling to himself. “There go that tough Tony shit again,” he said. “You keep talking to me like I’m one of these regular niggas in your club.”
Marcus looked at Maverick like he was beneath him. “And you keep forgetting whose fuckin' club you standing in.”
Maverick purposely leaned back comfortably against the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table in front of him like this was his shit instead of Marcus'.
“The difference between me and everybody else in here?” He glanced around the room before looking back at Marcus.
“Is that I go wherever the fuck I want and do whatever the fuck I want.”
Marcus stood up slowly after that and everybody nearby start paying attention to what was taking place. June immediately grabbed his wrist before the situation turned into something bigger.
“Marcus,” she said low.
His jaw flexed beneath the smoke while Maverick watched the whole thing with amusement sitting all over his face. Then Maverick looked directly at June again.
“You sure you like this controlling shit?” he asked. “Cause you don’t really strike me as the type to let a nigga tell you what to do.”
June opened her mouth, but Marcus answered first. “Ain’t nobody controlling her, nigga.”
Maverick smirked. “Shiiiit, coulda fooled me.”
Marcus pulled his wrist gently from June’s hand before stepping closer toward Maverick. The entire section felt tight now. Suffocating almost. “You starting to get real comfortable speaking on shit that don’t concern you.”
Maverick stood up. He was completely unfazed by Marcus tryna stand his ground. “And you seem real bothered over a fuckin' conversation.”
For a second it looked like neither man planned on backing down.
Then June stood between them. “Both of y’all doing too much right now.”
“Talk yo shit Ms. Lady,” Maverick muttered. “You da only one up in here making sense.”
Marcus shook his head slowly before stepping back toward the couch. But his eyes never left Maverick.
A smirk spread across his face again before he fixed his chain. "You know what? Never mind. Imma let you have it."
He nodded toward Marcus while backing toward the curtains. “Just don’t hold on too tight, my nigga. Women usually hate that typa shit.”
Then his eyes creeped over to June one last time. “And shawty… if you ever get tired of all this extra shit, you know where the real vibe at.”
Then him and his crew disappeared through the curtains. June couldn't help but to look over at Marcus. He kept a neutral and calm demeanor.
The look on his face gave away absolutely nothing.
And that was the part that concerned her the most.