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1
STEPHEN
As I sit in my private room at Club Nitro, I feel the base of the music running through my body. The floor vibrates in time to the music, sending pulsing beats through my feet, up my legs, all the way to the pounding in my head. I have another fucking headache.
Club Nitro is Boston’s largest and most well-known club and it’s mine. Here, trust fund college kids merge with business types, and in the dark, secluded corners, deals are made and women are plentiful. Luxurious for a nightclub, Nitro offers top shelf liquor and world renown DJs in an environment filled with opulent decor consisting of chrome, black, and marble finishes.
There is a line of people out the door every single night, but many of them never get access to the party within. VIPs are dropped off by our high-end valet service at the secret side entrance to allow privacy from the paparazzi. Although they always take social media pictures throughout the evening, which usually doubles our entrance line for the following night.
I inherited the club from Shaun Marshall, Boston's most successful and wealthiest businessman, who is also married to my cousin Scarlett. He started the club a few years ago as a side business and put me at the helm when my life went to shit, and he fell in love with Scarlett. I purchased the club from him not long after and opened another one in New York City. Now I divide my time between the two.
The pounding in my head continues in time with the music, as I overlook the dancefloor through the floor to ceiling one way glass window while nursing my glass of whiskey. I try to relax in the dark brown leather Chesterfield lounge, rubbing my temples to try and alleviate the pain, as I take a sip of my drink, my fourth for tonight. I am sitting alone, which is not unusual, surrounded only by my thoughts.
There is never a shortage of beautiful women at my clubs, and I notice tonight is no exception, as my eyes rake over the floor down below. I walk the floor a few times each evening, and I always get stopped by a manicured hand to the chest. Sometimes I stop, sometimes I don’t. Other times, like tonight, I prefer to just look from afar.
Due to the nature of my business, I am nocturnal, so I don’t have time for a relationship, and it is better that way. For the past two years, I have worked my ass off to prove to everyone I am not the criminal my father was, and that I am a successful businessman in my own right.
I rub my eyes and then my temples again to try and alleviate the pounding in my head which hasn’t stopped since I fell victim to my father’s crimes. The constant ache is my penance for dad’s criminal activities which made me a household name.
If it wasn’t for my cousin Scarlett, I am not sure I would still be standing. Her and Shaun helped me get back on my feet after I lost everything. I had a jet set lifestyle, and I was ready to step into the CEO position at my very successful family business and then within a blink of an eye, I lost everything. My thoughts are interrupted when my personal barmaid Melanie steps into view. Melanie has been working for me for over a year now and is one of my best employees. She is always professional, discreet, and nothing ever seems too much trouble. From what I understand, her boyfriend is a total asshole, but none of that is my business.
“You want another, sir?”
I look at the glass in my hand and notice that it is empty. When did that happen?
I shake my head and Melanie moves out of sight. Discreet service is what we pride ourselves on here at Nitro, and it is why we have such a great clientele - especially in our VIP rooms. Dotted around the first floor, our VIP spaces are used by not only businesspeople, but visiting celebrities, global entrepreneurs, and only the elite of the elite can gain access. People broker deals here, simply have a good time with friends, or hook up with the bevvy of women willing and able to get a rich man in the hope that they can be a wealthy wife.
I look out at the club below and notice the crowd starting to thin out. We officially close at 5am, but tonight the VIP lounges are full, so we keep everything open a little longer - tactfully of course. By 6am, the bar closes and is replaced by caffeine, offering coffee or Mimosas for those who are left behind. Cars are waiting outside for the straggling guests, ready to take them wherever they need to go.
As they leave, even though I am exhausted, I go through the financials for the night, and I am pleased to see it was another excellent revenue generator. Even though the bar is now quiet, I stay a while longer, checking stock and paperwork, signing invoices and checks. If I don’t do it this morning, it will just be waiting for me tonight, so I would rather get it done.
Running my hand through my hair, I look at my Rolex and notice that it is 8am already. I sigh, shut off my computer and put all my files away before grabbing my Hugo Boss suit jacket and do a final walk-through of the club, checking and cross-checking everything. I am surprised to find a VIP table still active, and walk over to Jake, my Head of Security and one of my best friends who is watching over them. Jake looks at me with a tired smirk. Jake and I have been close for years, and I rely on him heavily for many things, including keeping me and my business safe. He is a scary motherfucker to look at, tall and a solid wall of muscle, but also extremely quick and agile. He is the smartest man I know, both strategically and with a high IQ as well. He is focused, all work and no play. I don’t actually think I have ever seen him with a woman, nothing long-term anyway. We both stand, watching the remaining guests for a while, waiting for their conversation to end naturally. It’s been a long night, so I know he is as keen to get home and to bed as I am, so together we start to shuffle them out.
We get them up and walk them out of the club, and I grab a coffee from the bar on my way through. Not wanting them to leave without an escort, I push them through the front doors, and follow them out to the sidewalk to ensure they are on their way safely as Jake locks up behind us.
The sun is blindingly bright once I step outside. Taking a quick sip of the coffee, which tastes like pure heaven, I enjoy the warmth I feel as it slides down my throat. I turn to follow my guests who are laughing and staggering down the sidewalk when I run into something, or rather someone.
“What the fu…” I start to say as I notice a small woman stumble in front of me and start to lose her footing, about to fall onto the ground. I reach out and grab her wrist, pulling her back before she falls. She is petite, my large body towers over her, and I underestimate her weight as I pull her back too hard, making us collide into each other, chest to chest with warm coffee spilling down both our fronts. One of my hands is on the small of her back, the other still holding her wrist, my hand nearly wrapping around it twice. She is so dainty.
I make the mistake of looking down at her, and my eyes land on the most stunning woman I have ever seen. She is looking up at me, her chocolate brown hair catching the morning sun's rays is tied up in a cute top knot. Her cheeks are pale pink, and she has heart shaped lips. She is wearing a tight white t-shirt and classic blue jeans with converse sneakers, looking as fresh as a daisy, except for the coffee stain which is now spreading on her top. I take a sharp breath and I smell her aroma; a delicate smell of rose infiltrates my nostrils before the smell of fresh coffee startles me out of my daydream. The pounding in my head immediately stops and is replaced with a pounding in my heart.
***
2
MOLLY
“Oh my God!” I screech and jump back, out of the hands of the man who grabbed me. He smells like a liquor store and the people he is with are stumbling around, so clearly, they have all just come from a club. I pull my now coffee-stained white t-shirt off my wet chest and fan it out, the hot coffee scorching my skin and the cool breeze I create keeping it cool.
“Shit, sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” he says, rubbing his hand to the back of his neck in what looks like a gesture of his embarrassment.
I look back up at the man and take him in. He is all man. Tall, dressed in a dark, crisp suit, dark hair and a gorgeous half smile; he looks like he just stepped off the cover of a magazine. If it wasn’t for the coffee dripping down his white shirt, he would be immaculate. His square jaw is covered with a shadow of growth and his piercing blue eyes are staring right at me. He has a few buttons undone to reveal a finely sculpted chest, and from what I felt mere moments ago, a toned midsection as well.
Before I can say anything, the drunk couple who are walking with the man interrupt us with their drunken laughter, thinking this whole ordeal is hilarious. How is it possible people are intoxicated at 8am in the morning? The girl looks like she has been dragged backwards through a bush, her eyes are smudged with black mascara and her red lipstick has seen better days. She is stumbling around in those ridiculously expensive red-soled shoes all the celebrities wear and a pink dress wrapped around her so tight, her boobs look like they are going to pop right out of the top. The guy with her looks like he has had one too many burgers at the local diner, as his stomach tries hard to stay within the confines of his blue business shirt and the buttons are pulled tightly across his bulging midsection.
I look at them with a scowl as the overweight middle-aged man catches my eye. “Nice tits, sweetheart.” I look down to notice my white top now completely see-through from the liquid spill, my new lace underwear now on full display.
“Eck!” I say as I fold my arms around myself. OMG, can this day get any worse? How embarrassing! Can the ground please just swallow me up now? I look to the sky, silently praying I can get out of this awkward situation quickly.
