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“Fancy seeing you here.”
Chapter 2
Chris
“How does it feel knowing you have another successful club without much ado?” Luke says while swirling his shot of whiskey.
I sip my vodka before answering, “Let’s just say it feels damn good.”
We are currently seated at the bar stand of my newly opened club. I’m wearing my sunglasses just to hide my identity. Nobody knows that I own the club yet.
Being the richest and most influential club owner in the world and having several branches all over the world has some consequences. I have many rivals, and the media usually ascribes my success to my late father’s name.
Bored and tired of the comparison, I decided to establish one in Malibu with a new name different from my last name. It was a test, and looking at my club, which was filled up with more people than I expected, it surely was a success. It eases the doubts in my heart.
“Cheers to another success.” He clinks his glass with mine.
“Cheers,” I say.
Luke lets out a low whistle, catching me off guard. “There’s a hot girl on the dance floor. I gotta hit that.”
I roll my eyes. “Good luck with that.”
He places his glass on the bar table and taps my shoulder. “See you tomorrow, bro.”
It’s typical of Luke to wander off when it comes to the opposite sex. I don’t have to lift my fingers before the girls come flocking to me. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to monitor my club's progress, and luckily, there’s no disturbance because I have my sunglasses on—though I keep getting weird looks.
I lean against the bar table and sip my drink. I let my eyes wander from the dance floor to the booth. I light my cigarette and scan the small sea of people to see any hint of dissatisfaction.
A lady in red catches my eye. I can only see her side view from where I'm standing and yet I'm entranced. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a smooth ponytail revealing her smooth skin. I'm beginning to doubt my plan of not taking someone home tonight.
Her nose scrunches in distaste as the lady who I assume is her friend deserts her. She turns and I almost choke on smoke.
It's her.
I take another drag of my cigarette, blowing smoke out of my nose.
It had been hard to get her out of my mind after seeing her a few hours ago. I had sensed someone watching me and was glad it was a gorgeous woman. Then Luke introduced her, and she turned out to be the Gianna who avoided me like a plague even though I was Nala’s big brother. What was more shocking was how she left me and Luke like we meant nothing.
I guess she still hates me. I deserve it, though. I really do.
She currently looks distressed. Then, when our eyes meet, time slows down.
Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I hold her stare. I don’t think that in my entire thirty-two years of existence I've ever felt so entranced by someone as Gianna.
Two things happen that completely knock the air out of my lungs. The first is when a flash of yellow from one of the club lights is cast upon her, making it look like a halo is surrounding her where she sits, and the second is when her distressed gaze turns into a glare. A glare that is enough to make anyone back away, but it does the opposite to me. It makes my blood rush to my groin.
I raise my glass in a toast to her, but she gives me a distasteful look. My pathetic self finds it sexy. I laugh at the ridiculousness of my reaction. I know I'm not drunk yet, so why am I acting like a sex-crazed jerk?
I place my cigarette on the ashtray. There's a strange urge in me to walk up to her and strike up a conversation. Apologize or anything. I just need to talk to her. So I find myself making my way towards her, brushing off anyone who comes my way.
“Gianna.” Her name slips off my lips, and she goes still. “Fancy seeing you here,” I say.
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Are you stalking me?”
I smile. “You watch too much Netflix.”
She looks unimpressed. “That's what a stalker would say.”
