We say our goodbyes and head out of the club, leaving Daisy inside. She has to meet some people.

“Do you feel like we were invited down here simply to hear her pitch?” I ask.

“Hmm, perhaps.” Elliott winks. “But it doesn’t matter. We’re in London now and I for one want to make the most of it.” His arm slips round my waist as he stands aside for me to jump first into the black cab his security detail drives us around in.

“Where can we go that’s fun around here?” he asks.

“We have a membership to a new private members club, somewhere a little lighter than you’ve just attended?” our driver suggests.

“Where is it?” Elliott asks.

“Soho.”

That’s it, without further ado, we pull out into the traffic ready to light up the town.

We cross a path of black and white tiled floor to enter the basement bar through a huge circular hole in the wall. A walnut desk sits in front of the old bank vault. We’re granted access and head inside a lounging area with a combination of Art Déco style comfy chairs and sofas. The most spectacular part about this space is the walls. They’re the old safety deposit boxes so where this lounge bar could have been dank and dismal, the lighting does a sensational job of highlighting these quirky artifacts. Similarly, the acoustics which could have been a problem, are perfect. Easy beats ricochet off the metal casings, and three twenty-somethings who have obviously had more to drink than we did over lunch are swaying to the beat as though this place is their regular hideout.

“Have you ever been anywhere like this before?” I turn to Elliott, a huge grin spread across my face.

“No, never. This place is amazing.”

We stand at the door, for longer than is cool and survey the spectacle.

“There’s no bar,” I say.

“Don’t worry, just pick a seat and they’ll come and serve us.”

I’m not really a vibe kind of guy so it’s never been something I’ve taken much notice of, but this place definitely has a vibe.

“I love it in here.” The beat of the music reverberates inside me. It’s not so loud that I have to shout for Elliott to hear, but it’s loud enough to create a great atmosphere.

A waiter appears from nowhere and despite the no-doubt phenomenal price tag our security firm pay a retainer for to grant us and their other clients access to this venue, he’s not trussed up in a black and white tux. Instead he wears an open shirt and slacks. I have a selection of nine beers to choose from. Elliott orders a bottle of champagne.

“Why the heck not?” He laughs.

It’s lovely to see him so impressed by somewhere. We sit in companionable silence, just drinking in the wow factor.

“I guess being with you has its perks.” I nudge him, my mouth spread in a wide grin as my Thai beer is placed down. He leans in and I close my eyes in ecstasy waiting for his lips to brush against mine. The anticipation is enough for tension to build in my pants, and when our skin finally touches, a wave of pure elation washes from my lips, through my heart, and down into my groin.

“You’re doing it again,” I mumble as shivers race around my body.

He pecks me, slips down to my ear, and whispers, “Me too.”

The sultry move has me begging. “Let’s go find the bathrooms.”