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She knew the answer to that question only too well … because her entourage had forced her into it. It was alright for them, they hadn’t just come off stage after playing a full two and a half hour concert at the Mercedes Benz Arena. While she had sore feet and a blinding headache which the pumping beat of the heavy DJ mixed music at Berghain did nothing to dull, her people were fresh and ready to party.
Thank god, we are headed back to the States at the end of the week. I want to go home. I miss my house.
Chloe and her entourage were flying to Paris late tomorrow. Two days from now she would perform the final show of her whirlwind European tour. At least it wasn’t a full tour, just eight of the major capital cities. By Sunday night, she would be home in LA and back in her own bed.Yay.
A club server arrived and handed each member of Chloe’s party a glass of champagne. The other three members of Chloe’s official touring entourage—Marta her number one personal assistant, Gabriela her assistant’s assistant, and Stixxluv, Chloe’s stylist—all downed their drinks in one go, but Chloe was content to nurse hers.
True to form, her companions immediately began bickering over what hideously expensive bottle of booze they were planning to order next. On a night like tonight, when her people were in a mood to party hard, the bar tab could easily be in excess of twenty grand by the end of the evening.
Her tight knit little group was getting set up for a long night of partying. Life would be easier if Chloe gave a damn about clubbing, but after working her ass off all night, she had zero interest in letting loose. The headache was partly to blame, but truth be told, she was far more interested in the three other guests who were seated in the booth opposite to hers.
The other party consisted of two men and a red-headed woman. They looked so out of place, that Chloe couldn’t imagine how they had gotten through the front door. The woman was rocking a pale pink ballerina dress and matching high heeled boots, which had to be the very antithesis of the nightclub’s unofficial all-black uniform.
And the two men? They were dressed so achingly conservatively, it actually made her teeth hurt. Both wore black tailored pants and white Oxford dress shirts. Either one of them could have featured in a Hugo Boss fragrance ad.
Yet all three of this odd little group seemed perfectly at home in their little bubble, oblivious as to how much they stood out. From the way they behaved, it was clear they were used to being able to find a table at an exclusive techno club.Fascinating. Who were these people?
Over the heaving beat of the music, she caught the occasional word. They were all speaking English. The dark-haired guy sitting next to the girl in pink, was tapping his finger in time to the beat. His body language was both obvious and telling—he was hot for her. The red head, in turn, made no effort to move away when her male companion leaned in close. She crossed her long legs and preened, smoothing the edges of her skirt. Sexual tension vibrated between them.
But it was the third member of this well-dressed ménage à trois who really caught Chloe’s eye. His dark brown hair was lazily adorned with a pair of designer sunglasses. He wore his boredom like a shiny badge of honor. His confidence came with a noticeable lack of the cocky edge that was the hallmark of most men she met in LA.
I’ll have twenty bucks on that one being an American. Only an American male would wear his sunglasses perched on top of his head at night and not think he looks like an idiot. He probably thinks it’s cool.
Unfortunately, her American compatriot had it wrong. Berlin’s version of cool was defined by its artists and students, even its nightclub bouncers. Not preppy college boys.
You’re trying too hard buddy.
As if the object of her interest could read her mind, he suddenly slipped the sunglasses off his head and placed them on the low table in front of him. Tilting his chin up he raked his fingers through the strands of his short, dark brown hair. The elegant movement had the sleeve of his white shirt pulling taut around his bicep.Nice.Mister America, might be over dressed, but he had all the right moves.
Chloe’s heart skipped a beat as he turned and gave her a panty dropping smile.
Oh hello.
CHAPTERTWO
Chloe might well be used to the limelight, to having people constantly staring, but the way this guy looked at her, she was certain he could see right into her soul. And as much as she tried to tear her gaze away, it was held fast. His sexy, all-knowing grin informed her that not only did he know who she was, but that he wasn’t intimidated by her fame. That he was up to any challenge she might think to throw his way. This guy hadBig Dick Energycoming out his pores.
Who is this guy?
“Chloe. Chloe.” A hand appeared in front of her face. Startled, she turned to see Gabriela waving furiously at her.Huh?
“We are ordering two bottles of Cristal Rosé, and Stixxluv wants to get a bottle of Patrón for shots. I know you are watching your waist, but do you want anything?”
Bed. Sleep. And to meet that hot guy who is doing a great job of screwing me with his eyes. Not necessarily in that order.
She was always having to watch what she ate and drank. Her number one personal assistant Marta made it her business to have right of veto of all and anything Chloe put in her mouth. It sounded harsh, but the life of a pop star was so intense that having someone else manage the mental load of her diet just made things easier for her.
“No thank you Gabriela … actually, change of mind. I will have something. If they have Grey Goose on the menu, let’s get a bottle.”
The stranger from across the way looked like someone who would drink vodka, not because he loved it, but because it helped to make him appear edgy. In the privacy of his own home, he likely drank and enjoyed an old-fashioned American beer.
While her entourage busied themselves with ordering an insane amount of booze, Chloe, andSunglasses Guycontinued their little game of seeing who could blink first. He might have money and an attitude, but she had survived a shitty upbringing, followed by four years of living rough on the streets. He was going to have to try a lot harder to beat her.
I can play this game all night.
When the ballerina girl and the other suited guy both moved and got to their feet, MisterToo Cool For SchoolAmerica, had to stand in order to let his companions leave the booth. He broke off eye contact with Chloe. She could have taken that as a minor win, but decided she was having far too much fun to end the contest.
Chloe was waiting for the moment when the dark haired hunk would look her way once more.
