by Sunniva Dee
We’re an hour from doors opening on the biggest night of the year. I left Pandora to her own devices upstairs while my crew and I prepared Smother. She’s showering and primping. I’ve supplied her with endless champagne and strawberries to go with it. Because I want her content. Happy. I want her for me.
Pandora’s thinking about ditching me, but we’ve only just begun. Hell, I’ve never had to work to make a woman adore me before. I’m nothing if not tenacious, though, and it’s been a long time since I last failed on a mission.
I run through my mental checklist as I head upstairs and lock myself into the apartment.
One: Christian and I have prepped the top terrace we usually keep closed. The little storage room behind the counter has now been stacked floor to ceiling with kegs and cases of cheap chardonnay and champagne. The terrace bar will be manned by Arriane and Christian, and I’ll send more bartenders up toward the end of the night.
Two: all bouncers are on the lookout for Dominic. He won’t be allowed in.
Three: I still have Pandora’s phone, which I’ll keep until we’re ready to crash. I’ll leave it for someone to find when they clean up in the morning. By then, I’ve got to have her hooked on me.
Four: the girls are waiting impatiently downstairs. I’ll let them loose on Pandora in a minute. I just need to see her alone one last time before the night begins.
I slide the door to the bathroom open and find her leaning into the mirror, applying mascara. She’s wearing some dark corset-looking thing that causes her breasts to brim over. I can almost distinguish the faint red of her nipples. Below it, all she wears is a black thong, those round, white butt cheeks begging me to slap them. I don’t, though. I’m weighing my moves tonight.
Pandora responds nicely whenever I grab her, and this time is no exception. I surprise her. Press her front against the countertop, and use my hands to trap her in a hard embrace. Then, I dig into her with my hips, letting my mouth find an earlobe from my position of advantage behind her.
“Shit, Leon,” she gasps out in the apprehensive, aroused tone that drives me crazy. She might think she doesn’t want this, but I know what she felt right now. A jolt of lust low in her stomach. We’re two of a kind, Pandora and I. I need it to sink into her stubborn little head.
“I’ll give you a quick tumble, sugar.”
I shove against her, eliciting a moan she can’t hold back. “Nothing fancy. Minimal change in skin color,” I promise.
“Leon, I meant what I said.”
Pandora has never said “no” to me. The only times I haven’t pleasured her is when she’s been too drunk. “Your body doesn’t agree,” I husk against her ear, and she shudders.
“Your body wants me to bury myself in you and make you scream in ecstasy. That sound about right?”
“Shut up,” she hisses.
I flip her up into my arms, preparing to carry her to my bed. The makeup scatters off the sink while I whisper, “Remember how deep I can go in you?”
“Enough, Leon—we’re not doing this,” she almost sobs, and I enjoy—no, love—how turned on she is. I’m confident again. Oh yes, I’ll make her dream about me after.
I’m in the bedroom with a squirming Pandora in my arms when a triple knock on the apartment door interrupts us.
“Pandoooooraa?” sings one bright female voice, which instigates the choir. “Oh, Pandooooraaa!”
Then, a single high-pitched, “Where’s my wifey?”
“Fuck. Me,” I mutter and damn, do I mean it. Those friends of hers just lost the right to drinks on the house tonight.
“Yay!” Pandora squeals, wiggles her delicious ass out of my grasp, and races to the door. She turns the key and lets in the swarm of just-off-the-boat Childhood Village friends. Wow. By the prattling nuisance they present, there could be a dozen, not three of them.
I ease into a standing position, adjusting myself the best I can. Without a glance in my direction, they dig into Pandora’s untouched strawberries and champagne while inspecting every piece of clothing piled high on top of her open suitcase. From the rapid chattering, I catch how Pandora is in urgent need of a skirt. Mica finally scrutinizes me and quips, a tad too late, “Hope we didn’t interrupt anything, Leon.”
“What makes you think that?” I mutter, holding her gaze, and Mica’s blushing is an inadequate payback.
“Give me a break!” I shout at the bouncer. “How many years have I been coming here, Jason? I must have paid for an entire booth by now.”
“Sorry, Dominic. Boss’ orders.”
“Fuck no—what does Leon have against my money? Let me in or bring the idiot out!”
“Dude.” Palms facing me, Jason lifts meaty shoulders in a single shrug. He lowers a hand to wave in other customers. “Nothing I can do. Leon is busy in the club and has demanded not to be disturbed.”
I’m seething. I’ve waited too long already, and I need to get to Pandora. As soon as I saw her on the back of Leon’s Ducati, I sped over here, but Smother was locked down fortress-style, so I returned once they opened. “I fucking have a membership to this joint!” I yell at him.
“We don’t have memberships—”
“Not literally, dammit! Just let me in, Jason. Or bring me Pandora. She’s in there, right?”
“Leon’s chick?” he asks, eyebrows arching at my request.
“Excuse me: my friend, Pandora,” I specify.
“Yeah, you don’t want that.” When Jason shakes his head, he does it fast and with his mouth slightly open. The effect is some seriously quavering jowls, and if I weren’t angry, I’d be snickering.
“No, believe me—I do.”
“He’s very protective of his girlfriends—he wouldn’t be happy with either of you if she came out here. Sorry, Dominic. No can do.”
I’ve been at the door for a while now. It’s nine p.m. and with my luck, Pandora’s wasted already. “Shit, Jason! Fuck you.”
I stride off down the dark alleyway that hosts the entrance to Smother. From the corner, I call Christian. He’s being a girl, not picking up, so I text him.
Never mind—I’ll buzz Shannon.
My phone rings immediately, and Christian’s on the other side. “What’s up,” he asks.
“What do you think? How’s Pandora?”
“Good. Listen, man—I got to work, all right? Hang out tomorrow?”
Oh, hell no.
“You’re getting me in, dude, or I swear to you—”
“Did Jason tell you?” Christian asks.
“Yeah, what’s the deal? Is Leon afraid I’ll steal Pandora from under his nose or something?” I joke, but Christian doesn’t laugh or answer. “Why are you so damn loyal to the son of a bitch? You know how he gets with women. You should be helping Pandora.” When he still doesn’t reply, I barge on.
“She’s your girlfriend’s best friend, Christian. Shannon called me, asking for my help—how come you don’t fucking care?” I scream the last part out, and Christian wheezes into the phone.
“Dominic! The hell, man? Hold on, I’m going to the office.” He slams a door behind him, and it’s quieter. “Your precious wild child is fine, all right? She’s upstairs with the girls at the moment. They’re drinking and playing dress-up. She wasn’t doing so good yesterday, but she’s okay now.
“As to why I’m loyal to Leon? He treats his staff well. He’s loyal to us. And no one—no one in all of Deepsilver—pays the money he pays. I’m his second-in-command, dude. In one month, I earn what the bartenders at the Blood Bank gross in two. Yeah, so in short, I’m not jeopardizing my livelihood because of a girl he’ll tire of in a couple of weeks. She moves on, and I’m without a job? No. I warned Pandora, but she didn’t listen. At this point, Dominic, my hands are tied. Even Shannon understands that.”
I groan and rub my hand over my face. This can’t be another dead end. I am not waiting until the morning to see her.
I want my year to start right.
For that to happen, I’m fucking gi
ving her a New Year’s kiss tonight.
“You clean up nice, Wifey.” Mica nods, pulling at the stretchy fabric of the miniskirt she helped me pair with black lace pantyhose and my short stiletto boots. I grab a long, silver knitted jacket to drape over the black satin corset top.
“Nice boobs.” Shannon waggles her brows and starts rearranging the hair she just finished for me. It’s lying in studiously unorganized twirls down my back and over my shoulders. Mica dabs on a bit of gold dust at the top of said “nice boobs,” and Destiny clears her throat demonstratively.
“Quit calling me ‘Wifey’ now that you have a real wife,” I tease them both.
A tacit pact stops us from ruining the night by bringing up my parents and my week with Leon, and I love my girls even more. They make me feel normal. No one brushes the subject of my beverage of choice, pure VOSS spring water, either. Like everything else, we’ll discuss my new drinking habits in due time, in the safe haven of our apartment and over gallons of ice cream.
Arriane has outdone herself downstairs. She’s Leon’s favorite bartender besides Christian, and her creative touch has turned the bar into a living rendition of fireworks. The walls are loosely draped in white fabric, and Smother’s stage lighting has been limited to cold blues, pinks, and whites. They dance in slow motion against the waves formed by the textiles. Lava lamps in the same shades are scattered over tables and counters, while a fine string of led lights frame the ceiling.
“Goodness,” Destiny says from the apartment stairs. “That’s crazy.”
Leon meets me before I take the last step down. His smile is happy and relaxed. He’s damn handsome in his semiformal, always-black outfit, and I curse myself for wearing black too. I had no intention of matching him.
Arriane’s gaze flows our way. She bobs out a greeting, and I gesture around the packed-to-the-brim-with-people room to her in a “damn, girl!” sort of gesture.
Her smile grows, and she lowers into a curtsy cut strait from a Victorian-inspired film. I point to the terrace, and she nods, proud.
Leon’s arm goes around my waist and nudges me into his side with the experience of a decade. He surveys the others from over my head, and says, “Ready to party?”
“Yeah!” Mica shouts, and both Destiny and Shannon whoop. What they think about Leon per se isn’t important when they’re bubbly-sparkly on his champagne and he throws it out like a challenge. Of course they’ll plunge in.
I jiggle my bottle of VOSS as Leon ushers my girls ahead of us toward the terrace stairs. Arriane has wound the banister in blue strings of star-shaped lights, and as the music fades from below, the thump of a different song greets us above. Leon’s hands are warm on my waist, and I hate how my skin still puckers at his touch as he guides me through the crowd.
The dark night twinkles with stars, outdoing Arriane’s decorations up here by miles. Christian sneaks out from behind the bar and grabs Shannon’s face in his hands. His eyes smile even as he shuts them in the kiss he sucks her into, and I’m so excited for them. I miss—miss…
Leon tucks my unruly mane behind my ear. He’s careful when he pecks my lips, and politeness might be what keeps me from turning away. I’ve told him, and yet—he’s not listening.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day. Another year. Finally, my New Year’s resolutions will take effect. Every one of them!
“Geez, it’s ten-thirty already?” Mica says, widening her baby blues at Destiny and me.
“Yep! An hour and a half until we start the new year together,” Destiny tells Mica, only Mica, before she flicks a glance at me, realizing how alone I am. Leon cups my head in his palm and nudges me against his chest. For him, not for me, I wish I could respond to his silent agreement to Destiny’s declaration.
I’m standing here like a jackass, breathing in the starlit night while Pandora is inside. I can’t get in—I can’t get to her. It’s not. Fucking. Working. What does it say about me if I can’t even reach the girl I love?
Everyone else is there too. Everyone except me. I try Christian again, but his phone goes straight to voicemail. Shannon’s number renders no response either, and I curse myself for not getting Mica’s and Destiny’s numbers.
In the end, I call Smother’s main line, hoping they’ll answer, and the tightness over my ribs slips, if even for an instant, as I recognize Arriane’s voice on the line.
“Arriane,” I breathe, relieved. Then, I’m happy when she doesn’t hear me; they’ve probably all been instructed not to let me in.
“Hello, you’ve reached Smother. This is Arriane?” she repeats herself.
“Yes, ma’am, I need to reach my daughter, Shannon Greene.” I change the pitch of my voice a little to be on the safe side. “It’s an emergency,” I add.
“Sir, we have a full house tonight due to our New Year’s Eve bash,” Arriane explains. “I wouldn’t know where to find your daughter.”
“I believe her boyfriend works at your bar? Christian… Christian,” I act like I don’t remember his last name.
“Malkievich?” Arriane suggests.
“Yes, exactly. Shannon should be celebrating with him tonight.”
“Sir, let me try to locate her,” Arriane says. “But as I mentioned, we’ve got a crowd on our hands, so this might take a while.”
“Sure, I understand, Miss,” I respond in my new, gravelly pitch, “let me leave a call-back number.”
While I wait, I head to the back alley that gives way to Smother’s patio. On my first night with Pandora, we snuck out through the ladies’ bathroom window. It’s high on the wall. I’ll need something to stand on. Shit.
In vain, I scour the surroundings for anything tall enough for my purpose. I could run home, but I might not get back before twelve. My heart is a concrete block that sinks into my stomach.
Shannon finally calls back.
“Shannon!”
“Dominic? Damn, you scared me! Are you in town?”
“Yes, and I’ve been trying to get into the club since six p.m.”
“No freaking way?”
“How is she?” I ask. A quick glance at my watch shows eleven-thirty.
“Can she leave?” I add before Shannon even answers. “Leon straight out banned me from Smother. Would she come out for me?”
“He’s… I don’t know, Dominic. Leon is with her nonstop tonight. He’s wearing an earpiece so he can shoot off instructions without leaving her side. She’s dying to see you, though. Should I tell her you’re here?”
Shannon’s information worries me. I do not want Pandora to end up in a confrontation with Leon.
“I’m coming in. Do me a favor, Shannon. Open the window in the ladies’ room downstairs for me in… fifteen minutes. I’ll text you when I’m ready, okay? Don’t tell Pandora yet. I want to make sure this is doable.”
“’Kay, got it. Are you planning to sweep her off her feet?” she teases me.
I laugh quietly. “I’ll do my best, Shannon. I—want her last kiss of the year. It’s been a long time.”
“How about the first kiss of the new year?” she asks softly.
Yeah. And that.
The terrace swarms with Leon’s customers. Minute by minute, more and more people work their way upstairs as the clock ticks closer to midnight. Mica and Destiny somehow find a spot to dance, the music booming out over Deepsilver in a way that makes me understand why this section of the club is usually closed. Really, this must be noise pollution.
Shannon is back up from her phone call from somewhere quiet downstairs. She’s got a strange look on her face. “Is everything all right at home, Shannon?”
“Yeah, all’s cool. They’ve roped off the stairs now. Arriane just hung up a ‘Full’ sign at the bottom. Makes sense—I mean, look at this crowd.”
Leon’s hands have been on me the entire night. The way he’s conducted his business is by earpiece and messengers. The few times he’s been to the first floor, he’s insisted on my accompanying him. Destiny says I have misplaced pity
for this man, which might be true, but after tonight, I won’t ever return to Smother. I won’t have a haunt in Deepsilver anymore, and I will not look for a new one. My gut says I’m strong enough to pull this off.
Shannon disappears behind the bar to kiss her boyfriend. Then, she’s out of his arms and on her way down the stairs again. “Stay put,” she tells me unnecessarily. Like I’m going anywhere with my untouched glass of champagne and Leon’s hand on my knee.
“Sorry I’m slammed, sugar,” Leon says for the fifteenth time between his in-ear conversations with staff. “I’ll make it up to you in a couple of hours.” He adds it as if I haven’t already told him I’m returning to my apartment tonight.
My heart speeds up. Like a week ago at home in Rockcastle, my luggage is packed and ready upstairs. Shannon and the girls won’t split without me; as soon as people start leaving the bar, we will too. If Leon throws a fit, that’s when the confrontation will happen.
This is taking too fucking long. I went home and got a stepladder. Shannon replied to my last message five minutes ago, but the window’s still locked. Only ten minutes left. Shit.
If Pandora’s lips aren’t on me at midnight—
In a burst of music, the window swings open. Girls giggle and squeal, and Shannon’s face pokes out. “Hurry!” she shouts.
“Ya think?” I growl as I climb in.
“Oh, Romeo!” Some girl screams from inside, causing Shannon to perform one of Pandora’s patented eye rolls. Even that I miss from her.
“She’s upstairs,” Shannon says, dragging me out of the restroom. As soon as I’m out, I see Jason. What the hell kind of luck do I have tonight? This is a nightmare.
“Dominic! What do you think you’re doing? Come with me,” he booms over the music.
“Sorry, Jason. No can do,” I throw back his words from our phone conversation and bump my way through the throng in the direction of the stairs.
“Hey!” he shouts behind me, while Shannon screams, “Run, run!”