Chapter 3 | LBD
Luca
W hen I took over the running of Tao, the best nightclub in Chicago and our family business, I imagined networking with celebs, parties, and growing our brand. Instead, it’s been mountains of paperwork . If it’s not inventory, or staff rosters, it’s balancing books and paying people off. This isn’t exactly the dream I had in mind.
Stretching my neck from side to side, I get up from my desk chair and pace my office. The faint bass from the music of the nightclub pulses under my feet as I roll my shoulders back and try to refocus. I fought for the chance to prove I could run Tao, and I got it. I can’t give up the moment things get hard.
My frustration about the waste of an outfit surfaces, and I try to ignore it. Even if I spent hours putting this look together, from my perfectly done makeup, to my lace bodysuit, to the black miniskirt with slits. Now, my heels are laying next to my chair with my oversized blazer thrown over the back of it while I try to finish the accounting.
Exhaling hard, I make to run my fingers through my straight dark hair, forgetting I slicked it back tonight. I love the look of a sleek high pony; it accentuates my naturally tan skin and sculpted cheekbones. Except, no one will see that tonight because I’m sitting at my desk instead of socializing, where I belong. Checking the monitors on my desk, I see people cheering each other in the VIP section, and a pang of longing goes through me. I should be there with them, not in the office. But if I don’t do this, I will prove everyone right that I’m just a party girl, and I refuse to give anyone that satisfaction.
It helps knowing that my hard work has paid off because tonight we hit a record turnover. That’s why there is so much celebrating inside the club, and since I can’t join it, I sent Amelia a text to let her know the good news. My phone vibrates, and I reach over to see her response of congratulations.
“Well done babe! I’m so proud of you!”
The grin on my face is telling, I’m sure anyone can see how I feel about Amelia. She was the first person I told about our earnings tonight. Mom doesn’t even know yet, a fact she would be pissed about if she knew. I will never forget the first time I saw Amelia, when she came in asking for a job.
I was sitting at the bar finalizing a staff roster when Amelia walked in and threw her resume on the counter and insisted I should hire her. It was a pretty bold strategy, so I was intrigued. Looking up from my paperwork, I inspected her before I responded. “Tell me why I should hire you, even if we’re not looking right now?”
She rattled off a list of reasons as I paged through her resume, which was light on the work experience we usually required. I could see she had a hard life that much was obvious. But despite those signs she still had a fighting spirit, which was what I couldn’t ignore. Her reasons for being hired didn’t matter because I’m pretty sure she was lying about them all.
Holding my hand up to pause her mid sentence, I told her, “Go to Silva back there, she’ll get you set up. We’ll see how you do on a trial basis and take it from there.” She looked taken aback by my easy acceptance and cautiously said, “I thought you were going to tell me no. What convinced you?” Looking her straight in those beautiful emerald green eyes, I responded, “I would much rather be known as a business that looks after their staff than looks the other way. Respect and kindness do far more for loyalty than most people realize.”
Trying to wipe the giddy smile off my face, I put my phone down and get back to work. The sooner I can get this done, the sooner I can get out of here and join what’s left of the party. As if they’ve got a mind of their own, my eyes wander back to the statement picture wall. It’s covered in the photos Mom and Dad took with every big celebrity through the years. Soon, I’ll add my pictures to that wall.
Growing up as a child in the nightlife business was an interesting parenting choice. I’m not complaining because I loved it, and I’ve got some of the best memories from it. Whether it was napping in my parents’ office, sitting with the chefs in the kitchen, or our financial manager helping me with my homework, I’ve done it all.
It was only when I became older that I started realizing how exceptionally good at this my parents were, and that raising your child in a nightclub was a less than traditional choice. When I asked my parents about it, Dad, with his chest out proud, told me, “We didn’t have a child for someone else to raise. So we got creative and combined our worlds.”
All Supernatural Families know that our blood breeds true, even with a human as part of the equation. But I’ve always wondered if Dad felt like he had more to prove being the only human in our household. Being from the Human Faction meant he clawed his way up to the top to be with mom, and he never stopped working until the day he died. It's probably where I got it from.
I run my hand over the mahogany desk that I had custom made by a local designer. It’s the only newer piece in the office that I allowed myself. Everything else is older furnishing from when this used to be my parents’ office, from the maroon tiles, to the statement wall with the neon lights spelling ‘Tao’ and the photos framing it, as well as the plush carpet I wiggle my toes in.
To the outside world, Tao looks like a standard restaurant and nightclub, and while it absolutely is, for the Supernatural, it also caters to a few more things. Like, the money laundering option that moves all families’ money. Or the blood donor section that keeps the Undead fed. Our other nightclubs are on a much smaller scale and usually only have one or two of these elements. They haven’t been combined like we’ve done with Tao.
I had a rocky start, but now that I’ve gotten it figured out, Tao is flourishing under my leadership. There was a time I doubted I could do this on my own and plenty of late nights I spent crying down the phone to Amelia as I was flooded with paperwork and politics. Now that doubt is replaced with pride because I can do this. I’ve proven it.
Well, I couldn’t have done it without Silva. Our family owes a lot to her. She’s been with us since before I can remember, and while technically she’s an employee, she’s family, too. I know she would have done this work if I asked her to, but she’s better at the money laundering side, and Silva and I always agreed to play to our strengths instead of trying to do everything.
I’m better at understanding what people want and how to convert that into a profit, where Silva is better at making sure people remain happy, especially when they don’t want others to know what they’re up to.
Grabbing my phone again, I do a quick check on social media, especially after the influencer’s appearance, and the results are even better than I could have hoped for. Based on the hashtags I’m seeing, there is a line around the block to get into the club part of Tao. Also, we’re trending. While the wins are great, Tao isn’t mine yet. There is still work to do. Another knock at the door sounds, and I tell them to come in. Not looking up from my laptop, I immediately know it’s Amelia from the familiar passion fruit scent that wafts my way. I will always know when it’s her.
Looking up, I see her leaning against the door frame, giving me one of her signature sultry looks, and my heart skips a beat. My eyes don’t leave her delicious curves, which fill the waitress uniform she wears perfectly. It’s a sleeveless black cotton romper, with a diamante collar. She helped me design it, mulling over the ideas to find the right blend of stylish, with practicality, like, pockets, or buttons instead of a zipper.
Her nose scrunches at the mountain of paperwork before me as she scolds, “You’re working too hard again, and I know you forgot to eat and drink.” Entering my office and moving towards my fridge, she bends over and takes a bottle of blood from her apron, and I lean over, checking out the view. I wonder what she would look like with less on, preferably sauntering towards me…
Why am I acting like a hormonal teenager?
When she straightens, I hastily sit upright and watch as she approaches me. Not noticing the tumbler in her free hand till now, with the glass sweating on the side. “Greygoose, two shots, with only a splash of lime with your tonic. To take the edge off.” I don’t miss the double meaning of Amelia’s words.
Biting her lip and tucking her hair behind her ear, I’m overcome with the desire to run my fingers through it. She has the most beautiful waves in it, and I want to know what it feels like. But it’s those eyes that stand out against her porcelain skin and her plump pink lips that really captivate me.
Clearing my throat, I look for something to say, except I see Amelia distracted by something, those lips gaping open slightly. And I follow her gaze to see her staring at the suspenders peeking out of my skirt slit. Maybe this outfit wouldn’t go to waste after all…
Looking up at me with those beautiful green, distinctively curved, round eyes of hers, she breaks the spell, and randomly asks, “Why have you never wanted to drink from me?”
Taken aback at this question, I consider my answer. There are so many lines we haven’t crossed yet that this one didn’t even come to mind. Amelia moves behind my chair and starts massaging my tense shoulders, and I groan, feeling more than relief from the tension in my shoulders.
Sighing, I explain, “I don’t know if I could control myself if I drank your blood. Wanting so much from you is a dangerous line for me to tread with control.”
The warmth of her hands disappears as one of them brushes my hand on the desk, and my heart jumps again. It’s hard to play it cool when she’s so close to me. I’m not sure what’s worse, wanting someone who feels the way she does and not being able to have her, or these forbidden feelings.
Her back to me, she pointedly asks, “I take it you haven’t spoken to your mom about us then?” It sounds more like a statement than a question because we both know the truth. Just like that, the moment is over as I try to withhold a different groan, this time one of frustration.
I care about Amelia so much. But she wants something I can’t give her.
It’s why we’re in this weird place. Wanting each other, sharing each other's lives but never really being together. Giving her a sad smile, I let her know the answer hasn’t changed. How can I do so well with Tao but continuously fail her? Her jaw clenches as I watch her try to rein in her anger.
“I thought if I gave you time to find a way for us to be together, you would figure it out. But I’m kidding myself, aren’t I?” Her voice is like ice.
Standing up, I’m desperate to make her understand, but with any attempt I make to get closer to her; she flinches. I say with all the compassion I can muster, “You know the rules, Amelia. You’re not from the Human Faction, so I could never be with you. Just the fact that you know the truth about me puts you in danger. You know what my family expects of me. And while I’m not exactly thrilled, I’ve made my peace with it. I am all that stands between my family losing their empire, and I can’t–won’t let that happen.”
Amelia looks away, and I know she’s trying to keep her tears of frustration from forming. I feel like absolute shit for doing this to her, and if I could change it, I would. But I can’t. Leaning over, she kisses me on the cheek, and I catch a hint of that passion fruit scent again, before she tells me goodbye. This time, it feels permanent as she walks out the door, and I don’t stop her. Like a coward.
I hate myself for what I do to her, and I’m scared of the idea of not having her in my life. But I don’t have time to ponder this further as my phone chimes with another text, this time from Jude.
“Lexie’s dead. I’m coming home permanently. Keep an eye out, you could be in danger too. I will talk to you as soon as I can.”