From the driver's seat, Jake said, "What client?"
At this, Bianca launched into a long, detailed explanation – giving Jake way more information than she had ever given me.
This was why, on the following night, I found myself lost in the commotion of a packed nightclub, accompanied by Jake and Bianca of all people.
Supposedly, she was working – for Jake this time, not Vince. What her responsibilities were, I still wasn't sure. And actually, I hadn't asked – probably because I'd been a little preoccupied with Jake, who had distracting me in all my favorite ways.
One of those ways, it seemed, was dragging me out to a club that I'd been dying to visit ever since it opened a few months earlier. The place, named Stage Left, used to be an old theater forever ago. But tonight, it was jam-packed, with a huge dance floor, crazy lighting, and techno music blaring out across the crowd.
Around the club's perimeter, high balconies jutted out from the second and third levels, giving its occupants a bird's-eye view of the action below.
Still, based on what Bianca had told us in the car, I knew there was a lot more to this whole club scene than a simple night out. Standing just inside the front entrance, I turned to Jake. "I still don't get it," I said. "Why exactly are we here? Because of Vince?"
"No," Jake said. "Because of you." He reached out for me, pulling me close to his side while the crowd surged around us. Over the pulsing dance music, he said, "But at midnight, you need to make yourself scarce. Alright?"
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I've got a fight."
I felt my body tense. "What?"
"Yeah," he said. "So you'll need to hang loose. Stay with Bianca. Okay?"
I pulled back, feeling myself frown. "Why didn't you say something?"
"I just did."
I gave him a look. "I meant before."
He reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "Don't worry. I've got this."
"That's still no kind of answer."
He grinned down at me. "I didn't want you to worry. But trust me, when it's over? You'll be happy."
Around us, the music was pulsing harder now, making it almost hard to concentrate. Standing a few feet behind us, Bianca was squinting into the crowd as if searching for someone. After a long moment, she pointed. "There."
I turned to look. She was pointing at an upper balcony area – no doubt a throwback from the building's old theatre days. But what, exactly, was she pointing at?
"Go snag our table," Jake told her. "We'll be up in a few."
Bianca frowned. "You want me to go by myself? Why?"
"Because I'm paying you to," Jake said. "And I've got something important to do."
"Fine. Whatever," she said, stomping off toward the direction she had just pointed.
After I watched her disappear into the crowd, I turned to Jake. "What is it you have to do?"
He leaned close and said in a low, seductive voice, "Last night, someone filed a complaint. You remember what it was?"
I felt myself smile. I had made the briefest passing comment that he had never once danced with me. I hadn't even realized he'd been listening. But when he reached for my hand and tugged me toward the dance floor, I couldn't but laugh as we waded through the crowd, heading toward the center.
Over the noise, I called out to him, "Don't you want a drink first?"
He stopped and turned around. "Do you?"
"No." I smiled up at him. "But you're a guy."
"So?"
"So I've never known one who's willing to dance sober."
His gaze met mine, and he wrapped his arms tight around me. "With you? You're my drug. Anything else? Don't need it."
I pressed myself close to him. "You're my drug too," I said, although in all the noise and commotion, I had no idea whether he even heard me.
So I let my body do the talking, pressing myself against him, and feeling his hips grind against mine as one song led to another. As the beats changed, I lost track of time, along with the crowd surrounding us.
A few songs in, I felt a tap on my shoulder. When I turned to look, I spotted Julie of all people, the same girl who'd been with Rango that awful night at the hotel. She was flanked by who else, but the same blond as before.
The blond, who tonight, was dressed like a naughty schoolgirl, was doing this half-dance, half-stagger thing as she gazed at Jake, with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. She gave him a sloppy wave and called out, "I love you!"
When I glanced at Jake, I couldn't help but laugh. He wasn't even looking at the girl. He was still looking at me. So together, we ignored them, probably in hopes they'd go away.
"Oh come on!" Julie called. "The more the merrier, right?"
Laughing, Jake shook his head. "Sorry, I don't share."
Blondie edged closer to call out, "It's not her we want." She licked her lips. "I mean, unless you're into that sort of thing."
"I'm not," Jake said, wrapping his arms tighter around me to form a cocoon of protection against everything – the crowd, the noise, random ho-bags. Whether they wandered off or not, I had no idea, because I was soon utterly lost to everything but him.
When his lips found mine, I sagged against him, not caring who was around, or whether our tempo matched the music. We made our own rhythm, and it seemed to go on forever. Finally, when I was almost too breathless to move, I pulled back to look at him. His hair was damp, and his eyes were twin coals of desire. I felt myself swallow and suddenly wished we could get out of here, now.
When the music changed tempo yet again, to a slow, sultry love song with sexual undertones, he pulled me tight against him once more, and I gave up thoughts of anything but this. His chest felt hard against my cheek, and his arms felt strong around my back, shielding me, caressing me, claiming me – until his body suddenly stiffened.
I stopped moving to gaze up at him. "What?"
"Nothing," he said. "Go find Bianca, alright?"
"Why?" I asked.
He glanced at something behind me. "Because you're not gonna want to see this."
Chapter 51
I turned around and stifled a groan. Working his way through the crowd was Rango, my jerk of an ex-boyfriend. Elbowing his way forward, Rango gave Jake a murderous glare. "This is my house," Rango yelled over the noise. "You need to get the fuck out."
I glanced around. "Your house?" I called back. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Next to me, Jake spoke in a low, amused voice that even over the music, somehow managed to carry well beyond arm's reach. "It means he's a tough guy when he thinks he has backup." Jake looked toward Rango and said, "Am I right, Dingo?"
Oh brother. Not this again.
Standing only a few feet away now, Rango looked ready to explode. "It's Rango, assshole."
Jake's brow furrowed. "Rango Asshole?" He glanced toward me. "I thought his last name was Marzoni, but hey, whatever."
Still worried about Jake's "backup" comment, I looked past Rango to scan the crowd. I saw nothing, just bodies moving in time with the music. I gave Jake a concerned look. "What'd you mean by backup?"
Rango swaggered forward. "I don't need backup," he told Jake. "I need you to get the fuck out. Now."
"Luna." Jake said, "remember what I told you before?"
About finding Bianca? Sure, I remembered. But I wasn't going to back down and leave Jake to deal with my ex while I scurried off to hide in the shadows. I looked to Rango and said, "I'm not going anywhere."
Rango bared his teeth. "Been missing me, huh?"
I laughed. "In your dreams, dumb-ass."
Rango's face reddened, and he took another step forward. Jake stepped sideways to block his path. That's when I noticed something. I wouldn’t need to find Bianca, because the way it looked, she was coming up behind Rango, fast.
Around us, the music was still blaring, but no one was dancing, not near us, anyway. As I watched, Bianca weaved her way through the crowd, getting closer with each passing second. I glanced bac
k at Jake. For someone who'd just been told to leave, he looked pretty comfortable where he was.
He grinned at Rango and said, "Tell me something."
Rango glared at him. "What?"
"Do you work at being a douchebag, or does it come naturally?"
Rango made a low growling sound. His fist flew backward and plunged toward Jake. Jake caught the fist with one hand. He gave it a squeeze. Rango let out a squeak and fell to his knees.
Jake turned to me. "Told you he was a pussy."
It was true. He had. Repeatedly. But that didn't make the situation any less awkward. Plus, Trey's words from the job-trailer came back to haunt me. The way it sounded, Rango's family was connected. If that was true, Jake was risking life and limb out here. Rango was so not worth it.
"Jake," I said, "let's go, okay?"
"Not a chance." Jake flicked his head toward Rango. "You wanna hit him?"
"Me?" I drew back. "No."
He grinned over at me. "You sure?"
I looked down at Rango. His face was beet-red, and his eyes were blazing as he glared up at us.
The guy had squashed my car and tried to ruin my life. He had scared me more than I wanted to admit. Part of me did want to hit him, but that hardly seemed sporting.
"Yes, I'm sure." I told Jake. "Now, come on."
Jake gave a half shrug. "Not yet." Leaning over Rango, he said something low near Rango's ear. Rango glanced around, looking suddenly like a sky-diver without a parachute. A moment later, Jake shoved his hand forward, releasing Rango onto the floor. Rango slid backward a couple of feet before coming to a shaky stop near a familiar pair of high heels.
The heels belonged to Bianca, who plunged forward and reached out a hand – not to Rango, but toward my wrist. "Come on," she said.
With a confused shake of my head, I glanced toward Jake. He stepped toward Rango, who had jumped to his feet and stood glaring around the dance floor. "Get the fuck out of here," Rango bellowed. "All of you!"
Nobody moved. A guy near the front reached for his phone. He held it out and snapped a picture. The girl next to him laughed.
"I mean it!" Rango yelled.
Jake was grinning again. "You tell 'em, Dongo." And then, Jake's smile disappeared. He flicked his head toward the exit. "Five minutes," he told Rango. Without waiting for a response, Jake turned to me and said, "Go with Bianca. I'll see you later."
"Why?" I asked. "Where are you going?"
"Outside."
"For what?" I asked.
With a sound of impatience, Bianca reached out and grabbed my hand. She gave it a yank. I resisted.
"Come on," she hissed, "before we get kicked out."
My gaze narrowed. "I don't care if we get kicked out."
Jake turned toward me. "Trust me," he said. "Just go with her, alright?"
I hadn't always trusted him. And honestly, I didn't want to now – for his sake, not mine. But I guess I owed him this. So with a small nod, I yanked my hand out of Bianca's grip and motioned for her to lead the way.
As I weaved my way through the crowd, I turned to glance over my shoulder. But Jake was already gone.
Reluctantly, I followed Bianca up a wide stairway to the third level. Soon, I was settled with her at a small private table in one of the club's many balconies.
From my new vantage point, I looked down on the crowd – dancing, gyrating, drinking. The energy was pulsing, but I couldn’t bring myself to care, not when I didn't know what was going on with Jake.
I scanned the crowd, but saw nothing useful. Had they really gone outside? And if so, were they coming back? Or at least, was Jake coming back?
I dug out my cell phone and checked the time. It was half past eleven. I felt my eyebrows furrow. Jake had warned me about a fight at midnight. Had he meant with Rango? If so, things were running way ahead of schedule.
I scanned the dance floor, and then the neighboring balconies, seeking something – anything – to distract me from my own thoughts. I found the distraction in the next balcony over, where a private party was spiraling way out of control.
Chapter 52
In the nearby balcony, a massive guy with a bullet-shaped head was the center of some sort of commotion. He was surrounded by two girls and a couple of guys – all dressed to kill, and louder than loud, even in the noisy club.
I watched from the corner of my eye as the guy, laughing like a maniac, slammed his drink onto the table, and said something that I couldn't make out. The rest of the table roared with laughter.
The two girls cozied up close to the big guy's side. The girl on his right, a buxom brunette who could've been a model, tipped her head upward and gave his neck a long sensual lick.
The guy threw back his head and laughed again. Instantly, everyone else joined in. They were still laughing when a petite, blonde cocktail waitress arrived with a tray of drinks. With a shaky smile, she began placing the drinks on the table, one in front of each person.
When she placed the drink in front of the big guy, he stopped laughing. He glared up at her. Around him, the table grew silent.
"What the fuck is this?" he yelled, glancing down at his drink. The girl to his left, a platinum blond in a tight purple dress, giggled and said something that I couldn’t understand.
After a long, tense moment, the big guy laughed. Immediately, the rest of the table joined in. The waitress, with a smile still frozen in place, picked up the guy's drink and put it on her tray. When she turned to leave, one of the guys – a player type with overly styled hair, tossed a wadded up cocktail napkin at her back.
When it bounced off her shoulder, her steps faltered before she kept on going.
"Hey!" the player type yelled to her receding back. "Aren't you gonna pick that up!"
Again, the table erupted in laughter. The guys at the table exchanged high-fives. The big guy planted a kiss on the brunette, and then the blonde.
"Jeez," Bianca said. "What's got your panties in a knot?"
I whirled to face her. "What?"
"You look like you want to kill someone." She gave me a smile that was all innocence. "It's not me, I hope?"
I motioned toward the table of rowdies. "Who is that guy?" I asked. "Do you know?"
She craned her neck and gave him a quick look. "Oh him? You seriously don't recognize him?"
"Should I?" I asked.
"Let's put it this way." She made a face. "You and me? That's the guy we were supposed to be baby-sitting tonight."
I felt my eyes widen. "Really? So that's Vince's client?"
"Not just any client," she said, "the guy's Tank Penetta, first round draft pick."
I looked around. "So if we're not watching out for him, who is? I mean, who's gonna smooth things over if they go to crap?"
At this Bianca gave a cat-like smile. "Funny you should ask. The way I hear it, his new baby-sitters ended up at the wrong place."
Against all my instincts, I felt myself smile back. "How'd that happen?"
"Cash," she said, "and plenty of it."
"Whose?" I asked.
"Jake's. Who else?" She glanced over at Tank's table. "Get this. He was paid ten grand to be here tonight."
"You're kidding," I said. "Why?"
"Oh come on," she said. "You know why."
Okay, so I knew how these things worked. Celebrities were paid all the time to show up at certain clubs or restaurants. But why on Earth would anyone want Tank? From what Bianca had told us in the car, he was a lot more trouble than was worth.
"Well obviously," I said, "it's for publicity. I do know that. But why him?"
"Got me," she said. "I didn't make the deal, just like I didn't pay off your signing bonus."
I shook my head. "What?"
"Haven't you heard?" She gave me a sour look. "Jake repaid it. All five grand."
I drew back. "To Vince? Why would Jake do that?"
"Gee, I wonder," Bianca said.
"But he hates Vince."
"Yeah," she said. "But that w
asn't really about Vince, now was it?"
I had no good answer to that, so I returned my gaze to Tank's balcony. The waitress was back with a new tray of drinks. One by one, she went through the same routine as before. Tank picked up his drink and gave it a look. He took a quick sip, frowned, and then slammed the glass back down.
The waitress flinched. He gave the glass a hard push, sending it toppling over the side of the table, where it splashed onto the floor, garnishments and all.
Silently, the waitress leaned down and picked up the glass, along with the little toothpick fruit-thingy. Tank laughed, and his companions followed suit.
Tray in hand, the waitress turned away, facing me as she navigated the narrow walkway. Her face was red, and her eyes were glassy. As she walked past, my heart went out to her. I'd never been a cocktail waitress, but I had been a bartender. I'd taken a lot of crap, and knew firsthand that the waitresses took even more. Under the table, my fists were balled into knots.
"Hey!" Bianca said, clapping her hands near my face. "Is anyone home in there?"
Startled, I turned to face her. "What?"
She scrunched up her face. "Are you hard of hearing or something?"
"No. Why?"
"Because," she said, "I've got to practically scream to get your attention. It's pretty annoying, actually."
"Annoying?" I said. "Really?" I raised my hands and gave them a good clap near her face.
She jerked her head backward and looked at me like I'd just lost my mind. "What'd you do that for?"
"Sorry," I said, giving her a look that was all innocence, "I thought's how we were communicating now."
"Oh forget it," she said, "I'm hitting the ladies room. You coming?"
"No."
She pursed her lips. "I'm not supposed to leave you alone."
"Oh c'mon," I said. "You can't be serious."
"Jake was very specific," she said.
"So what are you saying?" I asked. "That you're baby-sitting me now? Jeez. Just go. I'll be fine."
She bit her lip as she gazed around. "Alright," she finally said. "But remember, if he gets all mad about it, it was your move, not mine."
Watching her go, I actually felt relieved. If I was really lucky, there'd be a huge line in the ladies' room, and I wouldn't see her for hours.
Jake Me Page 20