Money can buy happiness.
We walked outside to say goodbye to Grandpa. The day was beautiful. The sky was blue, and my hopes were high. I was finally going to make my dreams of becoming an actress a reality. New York was a tough place, and I knew that to survive I may have to lie, cheat, and steal, but I wasn’t worried. I had learned from the best—my grandpa.
“Well, you’re all set, Clarissa,” Grandpa said. “One last thing. My ex-boss, Moretti, gave me his son’s number in New York. His son runs the Moretti nightclubs in New York. He told me you can contact his son and he’ll get you a job while you get situated.”
“Grandpa! Those are strip joints. I don’t feel comfortable asking for a job at a strip joint,” I shot back.
“That’s right,” my mom interjected. “I’m not sending her to New York to be a stripper. What’s the matter with you?”
“Relax, both of you, relax,” Grandpa said.
He let out a big sigh.
The sky changed; it was getting darker, but it was only 5:00 p.m.
“Look, Moretti owes me many favors. His son is going to give you a job. If you don’t feel comfortable, don’t take it, but don’t be so hasty in turning it down before you even get there. You’re going to need a job.”
My mom and I nodded.
“I love you, Grandpa,” I said.
“I love you, too, sweetie,” he replied.
We embraced.
Little did I know his days were numbered.
“Bye, Grandpa,” I said as he walked away to get into his car.
Mom waved goodbye.
Grandpa slowly took off down the street, and I ran out to the middle of the street and waved. He honked his horn, took out his left arm, and waved back.
“Love you, Grandpa,” I whispered to myself.
Vincent Moretti, here I come.
CHAPTER 3
COLE
PRESENT
Iwalked into the club with Michael. The lighting was moderate; we were in the middle of the day. The bar looked messy. The bartender had forgotten to clean up again. I needed to have a talk with him.
The neon sign read Cole’s Jazz Club. As I looked around, everything else was clean. The club manager had made sure of that.
My dad had left all his clubs to me in his will. He made good on his promise. That’s the way he’d accumulated his wealth. Michael was set to inherit all of it should anything happen to me.
A beautiful blonde was sitting at the end of the bar, sipping on a Diet Dr. Spencer. My heart skipped for a moment. Michael walked a couple of steps ahead of me.
“Hi, Blondie. So how do you like the club so far?” Michael asked.
“Oh, yes. This will do just fine,” she said in a sultry voice.
“This is my dad, Mr. Cole Bennett.”
“You can call me Cole,” I replied. I was smitten. I couldn’t hide it.
