Nicholas

 

 

My initial plan for this evening was to have dinner with Sophia, but she's got something going on that doesn't include me. I can't say I was surprised when she sent me that text message yesterday saying she was busy tonight. The woman could write a book on how to play hard to get. It should bother me enough that I give up on her and move on, but the challenge is too enticing. I want her and it's not just because I can't have her at the moment.

I've kissed hundreds of women in my life. Until the other day, I thought I possessed the ability to kiss a woman and walk away. I can't do that with Sophia. The kiss we shared only made me want her more. That hasn't changed.

What has changed is my method to try and distract myself from the non-stop thoughts of her that have overtaken my life. I managed to write a few thousand words early this morning but then my focus went to shit when I passed by the piano on my way to the kitchen.

I needed out of the apartment, so I fled. I walked through Central Park until I found myself on Fifth Avenue. A quick trip up the elevator of one of the most prestigious buildings on the block and I was in the office of an old friend.

Crew Benton, a guy I went to high school with, sought me out on social media a few months ago after he ran into Liam. We reignited our friendship and when I stopped by his office at Matiz Cosmetics earlier today, he invited me to join him tonight at a club he's investing in. He's hosting the soft launch and as much as I try to avoid the club scene unless I'm looking to hook-up, I agreed to tag along.

My motivation has everything to do with Sophia. I want a reprieve from the longing and I can't think of a better place than a club to make that a reality.

"Veil East," Crew says into his phone, his hand raking through his black hair. "I bought a club in Vegas, rebranded it as Veil West and you can fill in the blanks from there."

He rolls his eyes as he motions toward the bar. "I don't give a shit if you quote me directly or not. I want a feature piece on the front page of your website. You agreed to that so don't fuck with me now."

I laugh aloud as I listen to him talk to whoever the poor soul on the other end of that call is.

"Get me a scotch, Nick," he says as he moves the phone away from his mouth. "Order whatever you want. Drinks are on the house tonight."

"Fucking billionaire show off," I jest. "I'm ordering a bottle of whatever costs the most."

"Don't be a dick," he says that into the phone.

I walk through the large open space toward the bar. We arrived an hour before the doors are set to open and the club's employees are milling about, readying everything for the anticipated guests.

"Let me guess…" the curvy blonde behind the bar starts talking as I approach her. "Crew wants a scotch, right?"

"You know him too well." I laugh. "I'll take the same."

"Neat?"

"Sure." I nod. "Are you expecting a full house tonight?"

"We'll be at capacity within the hour." She slides two tumblers half full of scotch toward me. "I read Burden's Proof."

My brows lift in surprise. I shouldn't be shocked that she knows who I am. She's part of my target demographic.  She's young and judging by the bare ring finger on her left hand, she's unattached. A solid part of my fan base is women just like her. "Did you like it?"

She leans over the bar until her tits are almost spilling out over the top of her black V-neck T-shirt. "I fucking loved it. I can't wait for Action's Cause. Can you give me a hint about what to expect?"

I'll never tire of this. The rush that comes from talking to someone about my work is addictive. "I can't. My publicist would kill me on the spot."

"Now, that would be a shame." She inches even closer, her tits straining against the thin fabric of her shirt. "My name is Penny, by the way."

I don't introduce myself because it's wasted effort. "Good to meet you, Penny. I need to get this drink to Crew before he comes looking for it."

"Come back when you need a refill, Nicholas."

I nod before I turn back toward where Crew is standing. If Penny isn't a sure thing, I don't know what is. Two weeks ago I would have been all over her by midnight and she would have been on her knees in a corner by the time her shift was done. Not tonight, though. Tonight, I'm keeping my dick where it belongs; in my jeans aching for a taste of Sophia.

 

***

 

I'm standing on a ledge on the upper concourse two hours later when I spot her in the club below. It should have been impossible to pick her out among the crowd of blending bodies, but the way she moves is unmistakable.

Sophia is here. She's in Veil East grinding against some hack in a two-piece gray suit that looks like it came off the rack at a fire sale. She, on the other hand, looks exquisite as always. Her dress is black and strapless. She's straightened her hair, so it falls loosely down her back. She looks edgy, sexy and when she turns in my direction, I can see that her lips are their signature deep red.

I grip the metal rail in front of me, my fingers stiff from anger. She plays hard-to-fucking-get with me, yet she's dancing like she's ready to screw the guy she's with.

She said she didn't have a boyfriend which means she's either a bigger liar than I thought, or he's a random hook-up.

"Penny can't keep her mouth shut about you, Nick." Crew slaps me from behind on the back. "You can use the executive office if you want to entertain her. I'm not against doing a favor for a friend."

"I'm not interested," I say over my shoulder. "Thanks for the offer though."

He steps in place beside me, a newly filled tumbler of scotch in his hand. "Are you seeing someone?"

"No," I answer quickly before I stumble back. "I was interested in someone, but that was a fucking waste of my time."

"What's going on?" He turns so he's facing me, his green eyes scanning my face. "You look like shit. What the hell happened in the past twenty minutes since I went downstairs?"

I draw in a deep breath of air. "I met a woman recently. I thought there was something between us but she's dry humping some idiot on the dance floor."

"Where?" He arches his neck out to look at the packed dance floor.

"It doesn't matter," I snap. "She blew me off with an excuse about having plans. Now I know."

"You know shit." He motions for one of the security guards dressed in a black suit to approach us. "Point her out and we'll get her up here. If you want her away from the guy she's dancing with, I can make that happen."

"Don't bother." I wave the burly security guard away. "What's the point?"

"The point is you want her."

I laugh loudly. "Not if she's out looking for a quick fuck."

"Who knew you had standards?" He chuckles before he takes a drink. "Tonight is invitation only. Point her out. Maybe I know her."

I don't know how the hell he thinks he can recognize anyone from our vantage point. It's a goddamn miracle that I spotted Sophia from where we are. "She's brunette, long hair, black strapless dress. She's in the middle of the floor practically crawling all over a brown-haired guy in a cheap suit."

He doesn't even bother to glance in the direction I'm pointing. Instead he looks right at me. "Does she have pale blue eyes, full red lips and an ass that should be illegal?"

I don't know whether to punch him or fall over from shock. "That's her."

He turns back to the security guard. "Go get, Sophia. Tell her I need to see her now."