I groan. “I don’t need your help, Harp. But thank you.” I nod my head toward her table. “Your friends look like they’re waiting on you to order.”
She looks over her shoulder. “Oh, yeah, I better go. We ended up going out tonight. We ran into Stan and Rachel in Soho, and they took us to some dive bar around the corner from here.” She laughs like it’s funny. “Enjoy your night. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says, bending down and pulling me into her. “He’s cute,” she whispers, and I grin across the table at Carter.
“Talk to you tomorrow,” I say, waving at her, Cal, and the other two at her table.
“That was . . .”
“A close-ass call,” I mumble, leaning over the table. “If she found out I’m working at Silver, that whole interaction would’ve gone sideways fast. Thanks for your quick thinking.”
He grins. “Women can’t resist my charm.”
I giggle. “Thank God for that.”
“You know I get it,” he says, turning serious. “She clearly loves you, Bailey. If she’d have a problem with you working at the club, it’s only because she cares.”
I know he’s right, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m out of options. What I need is for her to believe in me. To know I’m a different person. I can do this even if I shouldn’t.
“Let’s get out of here. I’m exhausted,” I suggest, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole. Incredibly, Carter never pushes. It’s like he already understands when to let stuff go. I appreciate him more and more with every minute I spend with him.
Carter insists on paying the bill, and we say our goodbyes for the night—well, morning. Having a normal night out with a potential friend was just what I needed. I think I can do this city after all.
5
Drew
My life sometimes feels like an endless cycle.
Every day, I spend it doing the same thing—wake up, work out, go to work. Occasionally, I indulge in other pleasantries, but ever since I’ve decided I wanted to branch off and open something new, do something new, I’ve been too busy.
So now, I eat, sleep, and work.
I’ve been here since around nine this morning. Most would think owning a club like mine is fun, but it’s not.
I work all the goddamn time.
I’m a control freak and do everything myself.
Then there’s the fact that I’m planning on opening a restaurant soon. That brings on a whole other set of problems and responsibilities. If I were smart, I’d hire someone to manage the whole process for me.
Phone calls and meetings have me sequestered in my office until well past dinner, and it’s only going to get worse.
Looking at the clock, I see it’s already after ten.
The club is not at capacity yet, but enough of the high-paying clients are present to have a full staff on the premises.
Give it a few hours and it doesn’t matter what night it is—Silver will be packed.
As much as I’d love to stay cocooned in this office and get ahead on my paperwork, it’s time to head downstairs and check out how the night is going.
I’m particularly interested in how my new employee is faring. Whether it’s to ensure she’s keeping clean or simply to catch sight of her, I haven’t a clue. I don’t even want to examine that one. She’s off-limits for so many reasons.
I’m about to head over to the bar where she’s currently working with Carter when I notice the room that Reese always occupies has the curtain closed.
Fucking Reese.
One of these days that guy is going to have to grow up and stop trying to ruin his life.
Switching directions, I head in the direction of the VIP section instead of the bar.
Some might ask why I indulge him.
A deep-seated sense of guilt has me wanting to protect him. I know you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped, but at least, if he’s under my roof, I know he’s relatively safe.
I can’t stop him from doing drugs, but if he’s here, I can try to push away the devil on his shoulder.
Which is what I’m about to do now. I have a strict no-drug rule here, and Reese and his friends are the only ones who push it.
Most of the patrons of my club respect the rules because they know the alternative is being blacklisted. Nobody wants to lose access to the hottest club in town, even if the rules are strict.
Reese has always been a thorn in my side, especially on the club rules. If it’s not drugs, it’s harassing my waitresses.
I should kick him out, but instead, I’ll open the drapes and monitor him.
I’d remove the drapes, but one of the key elements of this club is the ability for the rich and famous to have fun and drink without having to worry about pictures being leaked to TMZ. No matter how exclusive we are, a beautiful reporter posing as just someone trying to gain access, could easily slip by the bouncers. So the curtains stay to protect our customers, even if removing them would be easier than having to babysit this little shit. Sins of the past causing problems in the present.