I chuckle. "That's the plan," I say, not wanting to tell him what I'm thinking. Truth is, I don't think I'll be satisfied even if this does turn into a huge income generating machine. I can't imagine just retiring right now. I work too much to even imagine what that would be like.
"Speaking of which," Nathan says as the limo rolls up to the sidewalk of the club. There's a good amount of press, and even a few of the VIPs are gathered outside the club. I'm as impressed by it during the day as I know it's going to look once the sun goes down. It was one of the things I insisted on, that our club looked as classy during the day as it will at night.
The crowd applauds as I get out. I shake hands with our local boxing champ and pose with him for a few publicity shots on the red carpet as the crowd builds. Cameras flash, and as the sun touches the horizon behind the club, it's a certified throng.
Nathan and I both adjust our suits, and I wave as we mount the platform in front of the fountain. Nathan pauses, giving me a wink. "It's show time!"
I know we look strange. I tower over Nathan at six foot three while he's a modest five foot six. The cameras are flashing in our faces as soon as we're ready, press calling our names and people in the crowd already chanting for the club.
Our staff strings the big red ribbon across the stairs leading up to the entrance, and I swear that I feel like I'm at a Hollywood premier. When Nathan brings over the special scissors that we're supposed to use for the ceremony, really just painted up hedge clippers, the camera flashes are nearly blinding. I lift my hand, taking the wireless mic from Nathan.
"Thank you all for coming," I start. "I'm not going to say that we're as important as opening a new wing at the university hospital. But I'm proud of the work our team has done, and I'm looking forward to enjoying a few hours relaxing here. Thank you again."
There's polite applause, and I take one arm of the clippers while Nathan takes the other.
A cheer goes up from the crowd as Nathan and I slice through the ribbon, and the two of us lead the VIPs up the stairs and through the doors. It's been awhile since I've been here. I've been so busy setting up my place here in town and getting things settled with my transition to Franklin Consolidated. But seeing it like this, I have to give it to the architects. The place is a dream, with the perfect blend of classic touches that I like along with cutting-edge lighting and styling. It's going to be a unique club for a very long time.
I check out the bar and the stage, then head to the VIP section overlooking the club just as the doormen start letting in the regular customers.
"This club is amazing," one of the first women through the doors says to Nathan as she comes up to where we are. She's going around and checking everything out I guess.
By the look in Nathan's eyes, I don't think he'd be opposed to taking her home tonight. "Thank you. My partner here helped, of course. But all the heavy lifting was on me," he says to her.
I smirk. Nathan's going to take the credit, huh? "Well, I let you do the heavy lifting since you're closer to the floor. Less distance to move."
The girl chuckles, but Nathan's undeterred. "You know what they say, big things come in small packages. And you're right, having three legs to stand on helps."
I have to chuckle. Nathan is an outrageous flirt, and it works. The girl's eyes flicker down to his crotch before she smiles. Nathan pats the seat on the couch next to him, and she sits down, making me shake my head. He's going to have a fun night.
"Champagne, sir," the waitress says, handing me a glass. She's wearing a form-fitting blouse, a damn near painted-on skirt, and is even some wearing some thick-rimmed glasses, totally playing up the naughty professional vibe of the night. But she's as professional as can be, just like we instructed all of our employees.
It was one of the things I insisted on. While I know Nathan would love to sample what some of the girls could offer him, I won't allow it on my watch. I want to set an example for Sophie, and that means showing her that I can treat my employees with respect. I can be a gentleman. And I want my employees acting with respect too.
"So how much do you think we'll clear tonight?" I ask, getting down to business. One of the local celebs comes up, shaking hands. I return the favor, sending over a bottle of Kristal as thanks for coming by.
"You send more bottles like that? We might break even," Nathan laughs. "We're doing just fine, man. I'll check with the manager before we leave tonight. He'll get me an estimate. But remember, tonight isn't about turning profit. It's about getting rep. We get rep now, and we make bank later."
We chat for another forty-five minutes or so, and I'm amazed as the club fills up. There's no way the folks still outside are getting in for hours unless they've got a reservation.
"Great turnout!" Nathan crows, loving the flow of people still coming through the doors. It's fun, and best of all, authentic.
"It is," I murmur. I have to say even I'm impressed. "It's a weight off my chest . . ."
My voice trails off as I see her walk in. She stands out in the crowd of mostly whites and blacks in a fire engine red dress that hugs her body like it was custom made for her. Long brown hair frames her angelic face, and while I'm too far away to see her eyes, her lips are perfect. The way her cheekbones are shaped, she looks like . . . "An Angel."
"What?" Nathan asks, but I barely hear him as I watch her breathlessly. She goes over to the bar with a girl who's obviously her friend or wingman, and a thread of anger courses through my head as I see some guy come up on her. I grip my glass harder as I see him laying on the moves, even though she doesn't seem too into it.
Nathan waves his hand in front of my face. "Yo, Jake, are you listening to me?"
I blink rapidly, shaking my head as I turn back to him. "Huh?"
"I said this place is going to change our lives."
"Hold that thought," I say, my eyes and my mind on one thing only. I toss back the rest of my glass and get to my feet, heading for the stairs. As I leave the VIP area, I'm not thinking about Nathan, or money, or even how well our grand opening is going to turn out tonight. All I can see is the angel in a red dress.
Chapter 3
Roxy
"So, how about we go back to my place?" the guy asks for the second time. Is ‘no thanks' somehow going to change in three minutes?
I try to hold back my annoyed scowl. Go back to his place? I'm about ready to splash my untouched beer in his fucking face. I've turned him down for a dance. He's not that bad-looking. I'm sure he could find some girl in here, even with his creepy ass vibe. Why the fuck's he still here with me?
I look around and see that Hannah's deserted me. I can see her over on the dance floor, twerking her ass up against some cute dude. I'm certain he's about five minutes from blowing a load in his slacks with the way she's moving.
I look back over just in time to see Dr. Strangelove pushing the bottle closer to me, like he's trying to remind me that it's there and force me to drink it, but he's gotta learn that there's a lot of scrap in this little body. "Drink up," he says.
That's it. I just can't with this guy.
I open my mouth to finally tell the guy to fuck off. I've been overly polite and have made it perfectly clear that I don't want what he's selling. But before the words can leave my lips, a penetrating voice behind me speaks up. "Everything okay, Angel? Sorry I'm late. I was busy upstairs."
I spin in my seat to get a look at the voice and my heart stops. Seriously, I might need a defibrillator to get it back beating again as the breath leaves my lungs. I take in the purest blue eyes I've ever seen under dark hair that glimmers and sparkles as the lights of the club catch deep within it. His chiseled jawline frames a sensual mouth, and it's hard to pull my eyes away from his gaze and take the rest of him in.
He's tall and broad-shouldered, his custom-tailored suit fitting him perfectly.
Fuck being a heartthrob. He's a heartstopper. That's what this guy is.
My mouth opens like a fish, but Mr. Heartstopper winks at me and I'm able to brush off my momentary shock enough to play along. "No, honey, I was just having him warm your seat for you until you got back from that little curb stomp appointment." I flash a smile, not letting the nervousness I feel flicker through. I turn and give Dr. Strangelove a pointed look. "Does that guy still have all of his front teeth?"
My former creepy-ass suitor scowls, and for a moment, I fear he's about ready to fight for his seat. But when Mr. Heartstopper gives him a hard look, he gets up from his seat, mumbles something, and disappears in the crowd.