As I follow the hostess to Gideon’s table, I can’t help but notice the place is packed for a Tuesday night. The décor also catches my attention. It’s very opulent and matches the upscale note of the exterior of the building. Every detail has been carefully weighed. One glance at the patrons and you can tell they’re dripping in money.
“Rod!” Gideon waves.
I thank the hostess and make my way to his table.
“Gideon!”
We give each other a hug before sitting down.
“Did you find the place okay?” he asks.
“I did. It’s a little top-secret. Thank God for GPS,” I chuckle.
“It would kill the whole notion of privacy if it were too obvious.”
“No doubt,” I agree. “I guess you’ve been a member since the beginning?”
“I’ve been part of Carl’s circle since the days when he used to have these hush-hush underground parties where you’d receive the location on a pager––that really ages me––three hours before things kicked off. It was all word-of-mouth. Now, he has a fleet of locations that cater to people like me. The restaurant is a nice front.”
“The front is what keeps the wrong people away,” I say.
“You’re right. I’m surprised you never became a member here no matter how many times I tried to get you to join.”
“Dark Compulsion works well for me.” I like kinky. Not freaky.
“Pity. You’re missing out on so much, Rod.”
Rumor has it the Sanctuary is where the unspeakable happens. Just like Dark Compulsion, it’s an adult club for the rich and famous, but unlike my club, the Sanctuary only caters to those looking for hardcore BDSM—weird-ass fetishes, extreme erotic humiliation, masochism and the list goes on. No thanks. It also has a hefty annual fee. If you have a cool seventy-five thousand dollars burning a hole in your pocket, you’re guaranteed a good fuck, no strings attached and no drama post-fuck.
“I hope you were able to sort things out with your lawyers,” I say changing the subject.
“Ah, you’re referring to yesterday’s phone call. I wish I could say I had, but unfortunately it’s still a thorn in my side.”
“I’m sure everything will work out in your favor.”
“I sure hope so because it’s fucking annoying and a huge time-sucker,” he growls.
“I can understand.”
“Enough of this uninteresting legal talk, we’re here to catch up. Let’s get you a drink and we’ll order some food.”
“That sounds good.”
* * *
The meal was outstanding. I can’t say I expected anything less.
An hour later, the restaurant is a lot more animated than when I first arrived. When Gideon talked about catching up, I guess he meant sharing every detail of his life in London. He hasn’t asked too many questions about me and I haven’t offered to fill in the blanks.
“Do you still hang out with your bandmates?” he asks.
“We’re still very close. We hang out as often as we can. But you know how it is, we’ve gone in different directions and we each have a business to run. That said, no matter how crazy, we’ll spend the week between Christmas and New Year’s on Catalina Island. We each have a home there, so it’s great. We haven’t missed one yet. Holt still makes it back every year with his daughter.
“That’s good,” he nods before taking a sip of his Bloody Caesar Geisha. Think Bloody Caesar with a shot of sake.
I have no idea how he stomachs that thing.
“Holt, Beckett and Jace are related. They took me in like a fourth brother. I’m glad we still have such a strong relationship.”
“Keep your boys close,” he says. There seems to be more to his statement. “Whatever happened to that girl who pretended to be your shadow? Tsk—” he snaps his fingers together, trying to remember.
I arch an eyebrow. “Who?”
“Donatella? Diandra? Danika?” he squints his eyes. “The blonde who used to follow you around like a lost puppy.”
“Dominika?”
“That’s it! The Polish chick!”
“You mean my Austrian-born best friend.”
“Poland. Austria. Same thing.” Mexico. Costa Rica. Same thing. Not. “She’s still hoping your fame will brush off on her?”
Whoa.
“Gideon, Dominika isn’t that kind of person. She never expected anything from me. She has her own successful video production company now and her own studio—adjacent to ours. She’s made a name for herself in the industry on her own merit—not by riding my coattail. In fact, she’s brushed off my offer to help numerous times.”
“So she got her act together?”
“She was never lost. She always knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life.”
“Maybe I confused her shyness for being a bit lost.”
Not sure how that happened.
“She’s always been very well grounded.”
“Humph. Really?”
“Really,” I stress.
“She must be all grown up now.”
There’s something about how he said that.
“She’s twenty-five,” I deadpan.
“She was cute before—blonde, slender waist with good size tits and a hell of a mouth… she must be quite the piece of ass now.”
What the fuck?
My right hand curls up into a fist at Gideon’s crude, disrespectful and offensive remark. In fact, my whole body tenses.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s no secret, Rod, every guy in your entourage had eyes for her—”
“Remember yesterday you asked me a question and I wasn’t able to answer you before Peter called with some bad news?”
“Sorry Rod, a lot has happened since yesterday. Which question?”
“Dominika is my girlfriend so watch your fucking mouth,” I growl.
“Wow! Seriously?”
“Yes!”
“Oh, okay, sorry,” he says. A long stretch of silence elapses between us as I struggle to calm down. “You’ve been together long?”
“We’ve been steady for a month. It’s still new, but we’ve known each other for so long. It’s stupid it took us this long to clue into our feelings.”
“Feelings?” he echoes. “What a dirty word,” Gideon grimaces. “Never thought I’d live to see the day where a former rocker and certifiable bad boy pussy-magnet like you would say that kind of shit.”
“Things change. People change,” I defend.
He’s changed as well, but not for the better.
“Hey, if you don’t mind being in a boring relationship, more power to you,” he smirks. “More pussy for guys like me who still have their balls attached to their cock,” he laughs.
I just stare at him.
Most people would say congratulations, mazel tov, way to go, or, it’s about time. Gideon is almost dismissive. I’m not sure why it irks me so much considering he’s in and out of LA, but it does.
For the next few long seconds we sip our drinks, avoiding each other’s gaze. The tension swirling between us is overwhelming.
“I have a play room at the club,” he says breaking the awkward silence between us. “I was hoping we might hangout after this. You’re way more handsome than I’ll ever be and I’m hoping it’ll tip the pendulum in my favor,” he laughs. Didn’t he hear what I just said? “My dick is dying to punish a willing pussy. All this legal shit really did a trick on my dick, but a nice young, tight ass would help. Maybe we can share a few girls?”
“I have a girlfriend, remember?”
“I don’t see her around,” he shrugs. “It’s just us boys,” he play-punches me.
“Bros before hoes?” I sneer.
“Exactly. And don’t you ever forget it.”
Idiot.
“Aren’t you a little old to still adhere to that kind of thinking?”
“I know where my loyalty lies,” he says.
Misguided fool.
“My loyalty lies
with my girlfriend.”
“Rod—”
“Just because Dom is out of town for a few days doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck another woman behind her back.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of two or three wet pussies.” He laughs at his own joke. I don’t.
“Same thing, Gideon.”
“You know the rules. What happens at the club stays at the club.”
He just doesn’t get it.
“I wouldn’t set foot in any private club in LA—or anywhere else in the world—without Dom.”
“It’s our little secret, Rod,” he presses. “She doesn’t have to know. It’ll do you good to dip your dick into something fresh for a change.”
What’s wrong with this guy?
“I’ll know, and I’ll have broken her trust. You’ll know, and you can use it against me—”
“I wouldn’t.” Sure.
“It doesn’t matter. That’s not the kind of relationship we have and frankly I don’t want another woman,” I contend.
“For fuck’s sake, Rod, you could’ve done so much better. Dominika? Really? Wait ’til you get tired of her and realize you’re better off without her.”
My mouth drops open in shock.
Huh?
I cast an incredulous gaze his way. “Do you have a beef with Dom?”
Gideon lifts his hands up in truce. “Not at all. I’m just giving you my opinion.”
“In that case, drop it.”
“Come on, Rod—”
“I never asked for your opinion or blessing, Gideon. What right do you have to waltz back into town after five years and tell me who I should or shouldn’t date? I’m a grown ass man.”
“At some point in time, my opinion mattered,” he deadpans.
“That ship has sailed. Your opinion no longer counts.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way. I only want what’s best for you, Rod.”
No, seriously. Who the hell does he think he is?
“And Dom isn’t?”
“I don’t think she’s good enough.”
What an arrogant statement.
“You know nothing about her,” I say a little too loud.
“You should be with a woman who elevates you,” he argues.
“Rich coming from a guy who doesn’t even believe in relationships,” I sneer. “You know what, I think it’s time for me to go.” I get up, dig my hand into my pocket, pull out my wallet and drop four hundred dollars on the table. “That should cover it,” I say.
“I can’t believe you’d choose a woman over me. This is LA, Rod, there’s plenty of ass… none of it worth damaging a long-standing friendship.”
My eyebrows hit my forehead in shock.
When I recover, I study him long and hard.
The mentor I once knew and admired is dead to me.
“If we didn’t have a history, I’d punch you in the face for those crass remarks about Dom. My girlfriend.” I allow for a pregnant pause. “Don’t let it happen ever again,” I warn.
I walk out of the Labyrinth Lounge without granting Gideon a second glance.
CHAPTER 28
Dominika
“Let’s take ten, people!” I say to the crew.
“Hey, Dope D, good call on the extra lighting,” Kool A shouts. He doesn’t believe in using my name or nickname.
It wasn’t my call. It was part of his very long list of requests.
This yacht has more voltage shining bright on it than a nuclear power plant.
“The video will look slick once we get it right,” I simply say.
“Word has it you’re the best, Dope D.”
Have I mentioned how much I hate that name?
“Word would be right,” I offer him a small smile.
“And she’s funny too,” Kool A says, visibly impressed.
“Time is ticking. You should start your break now,” I cut to the chase.
“Can we take twenty instead of ten? I need to send off a bunch of text messages to my peeps. You know how it is when you’re on top,” he says with a cocksure grin.
“We can take as long as you want. When the record label gets the bill, you’ll just have to explain why it’s so high.”
“Ten it is,” Kool A agrees.
“We’re on the same page?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Good.
“I didn’t like those last shots,” Morgan, my 1st Assistant Director, says, approaching me.
“Neither did I. We’ll try a couple more takes and call it a day. I’m confident we have enough footage to edit the perfect scene when we get back to LA.”
“All right, you’re the boss,” he smiles. “I’m going to get some coffee. Want one?”
“Thanks, Morgan. I’ve hit my quota.”
“All right. See you in ten.”
“See you.”
A night shoot in Miami sounds like a dream. This one is anything but. Between rapper Kool A’s ridiculous demands and the slutty half-naked girls gyrating like whores on this rented 74 ft yacht, it’s even quite the spectacle. Alas, there’s no backing out now because the label paid me a hefty fee. Luckily, the rest of this video will be shot in Rod’s studio and the girls will be replaced by male background dancers.
I drop my camera on top of one of our large travel trunks and distance myself from the crew. Even though it’s ten o’clock at night, it’s still so hot and humid. As I slick back my hair, I can’t help but laugh. Isobel was right. Only in Miami can my super straight hair get a bit of a curl. Okay, technically, it’s a frizz, but I’ll take it. I can just imagine how wild her curls get down here. I close my eyes and welcome the warm breeze blowing against my face.
Life is pretty sweet.
As I bask in bliss, my phone vibrates. With rushed hands, I pull it out of the Louis Vuitton sling bag I keep it in when I’m on set.
-----
Hey! Still working hard?
Rod!
I can’t help the smile stretching my lips.
-----
I am. What about you?
-----
Same. I’m still at the office. How’s the shoot?
-----
He’s a rapper with an overinflated ego who thinks he has a talent for directing. Need I say more?
-----
Got it. I miss your voice. Can I call?
-----
I have about seven minutes.
-----
I’ll take it!
-----
You’re so demanding.
-----
You’re right.
-----
You’re lucky I love you so much.
God, I love writing those words.
So much has changed between us. I’m no longer afraid to tell Rod how I feel about him. Knowing it’s mutual is the most empowering feeling in the world.
-----
Calling now.
-----
“Hey, baby. I miss your sexy ass.”
I grin from ear to ear. “I miss yours too.”
“You like my ass?”
“Stop it.”
“Are you blushing thinking of my sexy ass, Dom?”
I hate that he knows me so well.
I still can’t believe we went from best friends, to lovers, to something so much more intimate and permanent.
We’re in a really good place.
“Did you call me to put dirty images in my head?”
“It’s hardly fair I’d be the only one in this predicament.”
“You’re an idiot, Wolfe.”
“Yeah, but you still love me.”
“I do.”
“Almost done?”
I let out a loud exhale. “Yeah. Day one is going so-so.”
“Will you have to stay in Miami longer?”
“No. I’ll wrap things up by Thursday night. There’s way too much going on in LA for me to stay an extra day in Miami. We’ll piece something together with what we shoot.”
“So
you’re still flying back early on Friday?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds like it’ll be an all-work-no-fun stay in Miami?”
“Other than the party last night, I’ve been stuck behind the camera. We fly out at six on Friday morning, so I can’t even sleep in on my last day here.”
“But you get to sleep—naked—in my arms Friday night. You know what that means?” he rasps.
I shiver at the delightful, sexy thought.
I grin again. “I can’t wait.”
“Neither can I.”
“How are things with you?” I ask, changing the subject.
“We have another meeting with Veemonth Records on Thursday. Hopefully we can come to an agreement so we can start working with a few of their artists. More work for us and more work for you,” he says.
“They’d be crazy not to want to work with us,” I joke.
“They’d be off their tree to think any other studio video production company or producer could revive their old-timers,” he chuckles.
“Preach!” I joke.
“Oh, guess who’s in town?”
Why don’t you tell me?” I laugh. “I might be here all night trying to guess.”
“Someone we haven’t seen in so long, I didn’t even remember what he looked like.”
I frown at the phone. “Holt is back in town?”
“No. Gideon is.”
Wh—what?
My world comes crashing. Horrific memories come flooding back just at the mention of my aggressor’s name.
I feel light-headed as a wave of nausea bubbles up from my stomach. I hold onto the ramp to avoid falling to my knees.
I swallow the sick feeling rising in my throat. “Gideon Wilding?”
Please God, say it isn’t so.
“Yeah. The one and only. Wild, huh?”
“Wild,” I say in a small voice. Panic surges through me. “He moved back to LA?”
“No. He’s still posted in London. He’s been in town for a few days. He’s dealing with something that involves lawyers, so I assume it’s serious.”
“I see. Did he call you?” I tread carefully.
“He showed up out of the blue at the studio yesterday. In fact, he was waiting for me when I got back from driving you to the airport.”
Torrid Love: Friends to Lovers Romance (Bad Boy Studs Book 1) Page 21