Chapter 2
Charlie
“CHARLIE! Get your ass over here!” Mel waves her hands at me, her loud voice cutting through the beat of the music.
Swaying my hips slowly, carefully trying not to spill the margaritas in both my hands, I weave through the crowd towards her on the dance floor.
“Anyone decent tonight?” I ask, handing her a drink while my eyes scan the crowd around us, soaking everyone in. It seems to be a full house tonight, which is exactly what we want. Friday night is our usual hookup night.
“Not for me.” Mel smirks. “But that guy in VIP? The one sitting alone in the booth. He can’t keep his eyes off you.” She signals with her eyes, sipping on her drink.
I dance around her, trying to catch a glimpse of the VIP area. Jesus fucking Christ, his blue eyes are locked on me like a hawk and I am gone, instantly dripping.
Frozen on the spot, my heart stalls for a beat, my breath catching in my throat. “Should I go over?” I whisper, even though he can’t hear us, but our eyes are still connected from across the dance floor.
“Hold up, Charlie, you can’t look too eager,” Mel says, breaking my gaze back to her. “You need to show him what you got first. Go jump in one of the cages.”
I hand her my drink and shove past the waiting women in line. “Hey, she can’t do that,” they grumble to the bouncer, but he just shrugs, not giving a fuck. Perks of becoming a regular here.
I slowly climb into the cage, and the bouncer shuts the door behind me, locking me in.
I hold on to the bars while it ascends above the dance floor.
I’ve been in the cage plenty of times, but that feeling you get in your stomach when you know everyone is staring at you, wanting you, never fades. If anything, it increases every time.
But tonight, I’m not feeling it in my stomach.
It’s between my legs. I gaze over the crowd and see his eyes still fixed on me.
I start to dance to the rhythm of the music, my gaze only on him while my arms move along my body, like we’re the only ones in the room.
If anyone was looking up right now, they would be getting a great view of my ass in Mel’s short dress I borrowed, as I start slut dropping in the cage.
By the third song, I’m out of breath and wave my hand, signaling for the bouncers to let me down.
Mel comes rushing over to me, passing me a fresh drink to skull.
“If I was a lesbian, I would totally fuck you right now.” She tosses my sweaty hair and readjusts my dress so my tits are pushed up more—if that’s even possible—and slaps me on the ass.
“Go get him, girl.” She’s the best wing woman a girl could ask for.
I head for the VIP area, but as I approach, the bouncer’s arm shoots out, blocking me. He’s built like a brick wall, so there’s no way of getting around him. “Not allowed,” he growls over the music.
Glaring up at him, I’m about ready to snap back when a deep voice cuts in. “Let her in, Roger.”
I shove past Roger, patting his chest on the way.
“Thanks, Roger,” I say, dripping with sarcasm.
He grunts out his disapproval as I settle opposite the man in the booth, leaning forward just enough to give him a clear view of my pushed-up cleavage.
Thanks, Mel. “I see you can’t take your eyes off me. ”
He ignores my comment and looks me up and down, slowly gazing over my chest. “What do you drink?” he asks bluntly, licking his lips.
“I’ll have what you’re drinking,” I say casually, sitting up a little straighter under his gaze.
He signals with his finger, and a short, blonde waitress comes rushing towards us.
She reaches down for the whiskey bottle that sits on the table and pours us each a whiskey without a word.
I glance up at her and she’s looking at me curiously, like I don’t belong here or with him. What’s her problem?
I don’t bother thanking her as I take a sip of my whiskey, soaking in his appearance.
His aura is intense, commanding respect.
Dark hair and a chiseled face that pulls you in with a single look.
His tailored suit hugs every muscle, his dress shirt casually unbuttoned halfway down his chest. I catch a glimpse of the tattoo winding across his chest and up his neck: a skull with an array of guns and knives on his chest. The crown it’s wearing has a letter C on it, sits along the front of his neck, in clear view of anyone to see.
Strange! But the flaming heart on his neck is kind of cute.
I clench my thighs together. From the look of him, I think he would be a great time in bed.
But who does the C stand for? Does he have a girlfriend already?
“Sara says you’re a regular at my club?” He leans back and drapes his arms over the chair, taking a sip from his glass.
“It’s a popular club, half these people are probably regulars, according to Sara,” I snap back defensively. So, he’s the club owner. Interesting…
His expression darkens instantly, his eyes turning from blue to almost black like there’s a demon in him. The air thickens around us with unspoken tension. “There’s nothing good here for you, Principessa,” he hisses.
Principessa… He’s Italian…
“I can decide that for myself.” Anger starts to boil within me. My temper has become shorter over the last year. But seriously, who does he think he is?
He leans closer to me, his voice low. “Fuck off while you can, Principessa.”
My anger blurs my vision, my rage igniting inside me. I’ve never met such a condescending ass before. Without thinking, I chuck the rest of my whiskey straight at him, drenching his handsome face and flawless suit that’s probably worth more than my whole closet.
Within seconds, Roger’s hands clamp around my waist, lifting me up effortlessly, dragging me away from the VIP section. Mel’s voice calls my name from a distance, but all I see is his devilish eyes and victorious smirk, like he’s just won a silent war between us.“
"See you real soon, Principessa," he shouts, raising his glass as I’m hauled out of the club, kicking, screaming, fighting my way back in so I can go claw at that man. Roger dumps my ass on the curb like last night’s leftovers.
Mel rushes after me. “What the actual hell, Charlie? What did you just do?”
“I don’t know,” I mumble, the night air slapping me cold as I try to steady myself up, brushing my long hair out of my face.
“Looks like we’ll be blacklisted from here.”
Mel hails a taxi for us to slide in. The city lights blur past the window as we drive through New York. His words hang heavily in my thoughts: “See you soon, Principessa.” I wonder what he meant by that…
After the chaos of last week’s encounter at Pulse, I decided to bury myself deeper into work and accept extra shifts at Doug’s Diner. It’s nothing glamorous—the owner’s a sleazeball, kind of obvious since his company is an innuendo for a DD cup size—but it’s enough to cover rent and scrape by.
When my father died last year, I didn’t continue my major in business.
I was only doing it because my father insisted, and I would’ve done anything to make him happy.
But after he died, I lost all motivation, I dropped out of my major and moved to New York City.
The Big Apple. The place my dad had always forbidden me to visit.
Growing up, it felt strange. Everyone else’s families frequently visited the city, but not mine.
Dad would always make excuses or take us elsewhere.
I stumbled into the waiter job at Doug’s Diner by accident two days later.
Forgetting to bring an umbrella on a walk through the city, I found refuge in the diner while waiting for a storm to pass.
After chatting with the waitress, she offered me a job on the spot.
I’m smart enough that I could get a good assistant job, but it’s not my passion.
Although, if I’m being honest, I don’t even know what my passion is, what I’m meant to be in life.
Tonight’s slower than normal, and there’s only one person left. I’ve been patiently waiting for him to leave so I can lock up early, but he seems to be taking his time. Wiping my hands on my apron, I stroll over to his booth in the back corner of the diner.
“Can I get you anything else?” I politely ask.
He looks up at me and smiles cheekily in his sleek, all-black Gucci clothes, his blonde hair pulled tight into a flawless top knot.
He almost has an eternal edge to him, but his brown eyes don’t miss a thing; sharp and calculating, scanning the quiet diner with deadly intensity, even though we’re the only two out the front.
He seems out of place in a diner like this.
“Just another cup of coffee,” he says, raising his mug for me.
“You’ve been here for four hours and all you order is coffee. I’ll be surprised if you can sleep at all tonight,” I laugh, refilling his cup.
“Care to join me and find out?” He winks.
Blushing, I hesitate, half considering his offer, but decide to quickly make up a lie instead when my mind trails back to the man front the club. “My boyfriend wouldn’t be happy with that,” I say, leaving the bill on his table before I turn to walk away.
“I don’t see no boyfriend around here. Do you?” he says seductively, stopping me in my tracks. I turn as he skulls the cup of coffee and throws some money on the table. “See you soon, beautiful.” He winks and walks out the door.
I sigh while I pick up the bill from his table.
Men…That’s the second one in a week to tell me I’ll see him soon.
My hand freezes as I reach to collect the tip.
$300? For just drinking coffee? Is this a joke?
I quickly run outside, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
He just disappeared into thin air. That’s strange…
he only walked out the door a couple seconds before me.
How could he vanish this quickly? Too bad if I was going to change my mind.
I ring out the till and lock up for the night before I start the eerie walk home.