7. Rule #7 Never watch your crush on a date with another woman if you can help it.
Amelia
Matis has such a good laugh. It’s hearty and affable and genuine. When he laughs, it makes everything feel warmer and lighter. As if nothing could possibly hurt.
Of course, listening to him laugh with another woman on a date does hurt.
“You okay, kiddo?”
I glance up from my fizzy pink cocktail to see Geo watching me with concern. I straighten my spine and force a smile across my lips. “I’m fine.”
“You should be out on dates of your own, not sitting around helping an old man. I think he’s got it from here.”
I glance over my shoulder to see Matis leaning back in his chair, smiling at the brunette woman, and I see just how right Geo is. He does have it from here.
“Well, I would be on dates of my own if he let me match with anyone.” I take a sip of my drink, slowly spinning my barstool back and forth.
Geo rests his arms on the bar and gives me a stern glare. “Is he really stopping you? You’re a big girl, Amelia. You should be able to match with whoever you want.”
“I know,” I reply with an eye roll. “But we sort of made a deal. I would help him with his dates, and he would help me find a good guy.”
“And is he?”
“Well…no. So far, he’s just stopping me.”
With an exasperated sigh, he gestures with his palm up. “Hand it over. Let me see the options.”
I fish my phone out of my purse and hand it over to the bartender. “Are you good at picking guys?”
He throws his head back with a laugh. “That’s funny.”
I take that as a no.
Opening the app, Geo and I start scrolling through the potential matches. “Oh, he’s cute,” he says when the first guy who pops up has curly brown hair and dashing green eyes.
“Matis said no DJs,” I reply, holding my thumb over the screen.
“Good point. Swipe left.”
“Excuse me, can I get a gin and tonic?”
Turning to the right, I make eye contact with a handsome guy with dirty-blond hair and a tattered blue T-shirt. His gaze catches on me as Geo stands upright and starts making the drink.
“Coming right up.”
I turn away from the guy and focus on my phone instead, but I feel his gaze flitting back toward me more than once.
It feels like it takes Geo ages to make the drink, because the entire time, I’m deliberating over turning back toward the guy to talk to him. I should. He is cute and like my type.
But something is holding me back.
Finally, as the guy opens his mouth as if to speak, Geo appears with his gin and tonic. The guy slips him some money and takes the drink, and then he’s gone, leaving me with a feeling of defeat.
Matis, 1.
Amelia, 0.
Laura giggles behind me, and I peer over my shoulder to see her reaching a hand out to touch Matis’s.
I can suddenly see their future spanned out in front of them.
They’ll have a great time tonight, so he’ll take her out again.
Maybe on the second date, they’ll kiss good night.
By then, they won’t be able to wait for another date, so he’ll ask her out the next day.
This time, she’ll just come to his place where they’ll finally take things to the next level and probably spend the night making out on his couch.
By the end of the first week, they’ll have sex and be totally obsessed with each other.
The next week, he won’t come to family dinner at Freya’s restaurant.
By their one-year anniversary, he’ll propose.
Then he’ll rarely come around anymore, choosing to spend his time with her instead.
And I’ll still be sitting here, alone.
Suddenly, I can’t take another second. Bursting up from the barstool, I grab my purse and shove my phone in my pocket. “Thanks, Geo,” I call before heading out the door of the speakeasy.
Just before I go, I glance back at Matis once more. He watches me go with a look of worry in his eyes, so I fake a grin for him and mouth, “Have fun.” Then I’m gone.
Wrapping my arms around my body, I walk toward the club. It’s only a few doors down the street, but after only two steps onto the cobblestones, I hear the footfall of someone exiting the bar to catch up to me.
Excitement bubbles up inside me as I assume it’s Matis, but when I spin around to find the dirty blond jogging toward me, I freeze.
“Hey,” he says awkwardly.
I step back cautiously, glancing around me as people pass by on the opposite side of the street. If he tried to haul me into the back of a van, surely I could scream loud enough that someone would help me.
He must notice the fear on my face because he puts up his hands. “Shit, sorry. I scared you. You speak English, right? I just… I saw you in the bar and I wanted to say hi, but I didn’t and regretted it. So now I am.” Clumsily, he raises a hand. “Hi.”
A giggle creeps through my lips as I hold up a hand. “Hi.”
“I’m Jacob.”
“I’m Amelia,” I reply.
He points behind him toward the speakeasy. “Would you like to come back in? I’ll buy you a drink.”
I glance toward the bar, knowing Matis is in there. If he sees me drinking with a strange guy with a hole in his T-shirt, he’s going to cause a scene. Even if Jacob seems really cute and actually kind of endearing.
“I can’t,” I reply. “Sorry. But…I’ll give you my number.”
His eyes light up. “I’d love your number.”
He fumbles for his phone and hands it to me. I stare at it for a moment before he realizes it’s locked.
“I’m such an idiot,” he mumbles to himself, and I laugh again.
After unlocking it for me, he passes it over, and I type my number into it.
“Here you go,” I say as I hand it back. “Text me sometime.”
“I definitely will,” he says with excitement. “All right…have a good night.”
I wave again before turning toward the club. “Have a good night.”
Walking the rest of the way, I have a renewed sense of excitement. Suddenly things are turning around. Not only did Matis make a comment about me being sexy, a stranger in the bar wanted my number.
Matis, 1.
Amelia, 1.
It’s Friday night and I don’t want to go home. Freya is with my brother and Archer tonight, and my parents left town for the weekend, leaving me alone. Which I hate.
So instead of going back to an empty house, I head into the club. It’s in full force tonight, and I can’t stand being on the floor when the music and the lights are going. It makes me feel like someone is banging a metal pot over my head.
I head up to the offices; it’s quiet upstairs since most everyone is either downstairs or home with their families.
Flipping on the lights of my studio, I drop my purse onto the table and dig out my noise-canceling headphones.
Turning on some chill beats, I get to work, trying to focus on the spring line.
I don’t get far. The music downstairs vibrates through the floor. These chairs are terribly uncomfortable, and the lighting in here is all wrong.
Not to mention the sound of Matis’s laughter echoes in my memory.
Is he still with her?
Is he going to kiss her?
Coloring in the palm trees on the midi skirt, I can’t seem to focus, and my work is suffering for it. With exasperation, I toss my colored pencil down.
Then an idea comes to me. A few months back, when I couldn’t focus up here with everyone else working around me, I found a perfect place in the club for a little silence and dim lighting.
I doubt it would be open tonight, though.
Pulling out my phone I check the app we use to track room rentals and availability. It’s early enough that a lot of the rooms are still empty.
And lucky me…the voyeur room is still available.
“Yes,” I whisper to myself as I quickly reserve it for one hour before anyone can take it. I’m able to reserve it for maintenance for the next hour to save the cleaning crew from having to come in when I’m done. It’s not like I’ll be doing anything in there.
No one has to know I’m reserving a room on a busy weekend night for myself when we could easily rent it out to a member. It’s early and I won’t be in there long. I just want to get some work done. Besides, the voyeur room gets rented the least anyway.
Grabbing my things, I hang my headphones around my neck as I make my way downstairs. When I pass the street-level bar, I wave to Weston, who seems to be keeping busy.
The lower, basement level of the club is vibrant tonight, sexual energy seeping through the space as I meander through the bodies around the dance floor toward the hallway of rooms at the back.
Before leaving the main room, I sneak a glance back at the dance floor to see the movement of sex among the naked bodies. My stomach tightens and my thighs clench. I could never just sit here and watch, although I have definitely thought about it.
Mostly because I’m an owner and that would feel strange, I have never actually partaken in any of the activities down here. Never mind the fact that nearly every single one of the other owners have used the club for their own pleasure, I still don’t feel right about it.
I doubt Phoenix uses the club, though. But I could never see her enjoying anything at all.
Leaving the room of debauchery behind, I head to the voyeur room at the end of the hall.
The voyeur room is sort of like two rooms in one.
It includes a “viewing” area and a regular sex area.
People can bring friends or lovers or whoever they want in here to get cozy and enjoy the show, movie theater style.
Sliding my key card against the lock, I open the door, and I walk into the room. The lights are dim and cozy, and the soundproofed walls are so thick it’s like being in a bank vault. I can’t hear a thing in here.
The room is split by a sheer curtain on a ceiling track.
It’s currently pulled halfway across the room, but the idea is that people on the bed can be seen through the curtain if they want a hint of privacy…
or they can pull it aside if they want none at all.
Either way, the couch is available for viewing—or more.
But I happen to know from experience that this is the comfiest couch in this entire club.
And not kinky experience. I’ve never actually used this room for its intended purpose.
Only for hiding away from the distractions upstairs.
And thanks to the world’s best cleaning crew, I don’t have any reservations about reclining across it, pulling a nearby blanket over my legs.
“Perfect.”
The room says reserved on the app for the next hour, so I shouldn’t have to worry about anyone coming in.
With my sketch pad on my lap and my headphones over my ears, I get back to work on my design. It’s like being alone without being alone.
It’s so nice in fact that I hardly notice when I feel myself drifting off to sleep.