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2
Cece
Air horns sound; four high-powered steam machines blast off around the stage, and everyone on the dance floor cheers. Maddox Barkley calls out to them, and they let out another yell, then resume grinding their bodies against one another while he plays the beats. It’s here. It’s finally here.
“Amazing,” Stephanie tells me. She’s settled down since the grand opening of the club two days ago. She’s not as jittery even though she’s jumped up and down a couple of times tonight. “You did it, Cece. You actually did it!”
“I know, right?” I reply, unable to stop myself from letting out a proud and incredulous giggle.
This entire thing has been a dream of mine since I was sixteen.
It’s the end of the weekend, and I know the club is opening back up on Wednesday night for the weeknight shows, but the weekends are where it’s at. I’m bringing in a DJ known around the Los Angeles area for the Wednesday and Thursday shows, but Fridays thru Sundays are the nights for one of the biggest rock stars in the world. Not only that, he’s arguably the hottest member. Maddox Barkley was an integral piece of opening Luxe. I want it to be not only the most celebrated nightclub in California but around the country. And I will make that happen, no matter what the media says about me.
Yes, newspapers and gossip magazines lead with condescending titles and flat-out lies. The most recent one went something like, “Will Baby Mavin Ruin Mavin International?”
Look, I get it. My father is an international billionaire, and I’m Daddy’s little girl. When Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie were at the height of their fame, they were starring in reality TV shows and making music videos. They weren’t taking over parts of their father’s empire at eighteen.
So, yes, I understand some of the hate I receive. But it’s not like my father just handed me something I’m not ready for. I’ve been partying since I was thirteen. Being the daughter of Chester Mavin, I was born a socialite. What I’m not given, I can buy.
Wow, okay. When I put it that way, I do sound like a spoiled brat. I don’t mean to, and I’m doing my best to prove to everyone that I’m not. I’ve dreamed of opening Luxe for two years, and it’s finally happened.
Like I said, I’ve been partying and having fun for years. Most of the time with my best friend, Stephanie. When I encouraged her to start her own YouTube show, she did, and we’ve been two of the most popular stars—if that’s what you want to call us—in Southern California.
Being that as it is, I’ve been to every club there is. While some are fun, there was always something missing. Some are smaller, and those are great. A nice place to relax with music playing in the background. Some try to go all out with sparkling lights and champagne service. But inevitably, someone gets drunk or a fight breaks out, ruining the night.
What I’ve been wanting and never saw was an upscale place. Not simply fancy but luxurious. A nightclub where the stars can come and hang out without getting mangled by fans or stalked by paparazzi. I can’t tell you how many times the paparazzi have turned fun nights into fiascos by trying to get pictures of the latest Hollywood starlet or Grammy Award winner.
That’s when it hit me. A high-end place. Most places charge a cover, some more expensive than others. That’s where I started. Our cover charge was you had to be in the know, no money would get you in. Someone in the business had to get you on the list. Bottle service is available, and there are lined private booths for everyone. It’s exclusive. Regardless, I knew for it to be a success, I needed one of the hottest acts or DJs in the business.
We sent out feelers, and several stars got back to us, but when I saw Maddox Barkley’s name on the list, I knew we had to have him. The Kings of Karmichael is the hottest band on the planet, and Maddox Barkley is known to frequent clubs as a DJ.
All of that said, approving the design and look of the Luxe, getting Maddox as our resident DJ, and even pulling off this grand opening weekend has been the easy part. Being a spectacle and trying to get the world to take notice right off the bat is easy compared to actually running this place. But I’m ready for it. Like I said, I’ve wanted to do this for years.
“Look at him.” Stephanie bumps my arm, staring down through the glass window. The club is two stories, and we sit in a small room that looks out over everything, with reflective glass so we can see out, but no one on the outside can look in. “Is that the same girl who was around him last night?”
I examine the stage area and see a girl run her hand over Maddox’s shoulders, walking behind him. He leans over, saying something to her, and she smiles. “No, I think it was a girl with short, black hair.”
“King of Bad, right?” She giggles. “Has he talked to you?”
I shake my head. “No. Leslie is the talent contact. She deals with anything he needs.”
“I bet she does.”
Rolling my eyes, I let out a laugh. “For business. All of his stage lighting and anything else he needs for his setup. DJ B-More, too. I guess he’s anxious to play on Wednesday and Thursday, so that’s a good sign.”
“He was a good pickup, girl. I heard he sold out a set he had at The Roxy and Welters. People are talking about him.”
“Yeah, I’m thrilled we signed him.” Nodding, I head back to my small desk in the office. After grabbing my drink, I take a sip and lean against the desk. “I can’t believe it. It’s finally here. Now the real work starts.”
“Have you talked to your dad yet?”
I shake my head. “I wanted to wait until the weekend was over. Present all of the good publicity we got on it and the tills. We sold out of our bottle service last night, so I know this weekend was a success if only because of that. Hopefully, that’ll get some better headlines for me, too.”
“Cece, you’re amazing. Don’t listen to those people in Business Weekly and all that other junk. Who cares if you’re only eighteen? You’ve watched your father build Mavin International into the billion-dollar empire it is today your entire life. You’ve not only seen but assisted your mom in closing multimillion-dollar real estate deals around the world. You know the business. You are the business. You’re a Mavin. You can do this.”
I try to hear her words and block out all of the gossip headlines, or even legitimate newspaper headlines. The ones that have always referred to me as Daddy’s Girl, Little Miss Mavin, The Princess of L.A., and my personal favorite—note the sarcasm—Baby Mavin.
Of course, I didn’t do myself any favors by being exactly what they say I am in the past. Partying with celebrities twice my age but indulging in almost everything they were. Making my own headlines in gossip magazines for partying until five in the morning, crashing Coachella with Stephanie, where we walked on stage during one of Lady Gaga’s performances. Maybe the one I feel worst of all over is getting arrested for trying to shoplift a Louis Vuitton purse.
