Grabbing my phone off the table, I quickly swipe it and bring up messenger.
Izzy:Hey? You busy?
Anna:No, what's up? Are you freaking out yet? LOL
Izzy:Not funny. Tell me I'm not going to die.
Anna:My God, you're dramatic. I looked him up. He's hot! You go,girl!!
Izzy:Why does everyone keep saying that to me? I don't care if he's hot; I just want to go back to work. Finish restoring the fresco. Think it's too late to run?
Anna:Stop it! Go meet him! Flash that big juicy butt and shove those big tits in his face. You are beautiful, Izz. Don't let your family fuck with your head. If all else fails, I'll take your place. :)
Izzy:You have a dirty mind, you know? LOL
Anna:I know, but that's why you love me. You'll be fine, Izz. You are brilliant, super smart, speak three languages, and have a body to die for. Fuck him if he can't see it. Text me tonight. I want to hear everything. I love you!
Izzy: Ilove you too. ( Perve ;) Drinks tomorrow night for sure.
Anna's right, just get it over with. Who knows, maybe I might get lucky and get that condo and the three cats out of this nightmare of a life. Dr. Marshall advises faking it until you make it. Think positive thoughts and they will come.
I give myself a full-body shake.
Standing up from my dressing table, I head over to my walk-in closet and start flipping through the hangers, looking for my red dress. Red is a power colour so they say; and it looks great with my pale skin tone, green eyes, and jet-black hair. I pull the garment off the hanger, I head out, and I lay it on my bed.
Catching a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror on the closet door. I turn and take a good look, noting all my flaws. I'm not now, nor will I ever be perfect. I'm terrified of almost everything. I have an anxiety disorder that, if left unchecked, turns me into a zombie. A career in modelling has long been gone since I was twelve. Ugh!
Turning to the side, I suck in my stomach. There's no way I can hold the little pouch in for 5 hours. Puffing out a breath, my belly pops out and I squeeze it.
There is no way I can pretend or hide who I am, so screw the makeup. I don't wear it, never have and he'll hate what he sees anyway, so I'm coming oh-natural.
Bullets, cats, or whatever this marriage will be.
I can't control any of it anyway. Turning to the dress lying on my bed, picking it up, I run my hand over the soft silk. If all else fails, at least I'll look pretty.
∞∞∞
Chapter 3 ~ Alexander
Carlos pulls into my parking spot at the back of the club, I am too impatient to wait for him to open the car door. I step out, taking a minute to adjust my blazer and button the front as I stride to the back door. Carlos jogged past me, pressed his key card to the reader, and the green light beeped. He opened the door, stepped back, and held it open for me while scanning the parking lot for threats. I turned my shoulder and stepped over the threshold. I take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds.
I can actually say that I love this smell. Stale beer and cigarette smoke mixed with a hint of vanilla from the many cigars smoked in the back rooms. We also add it to the fresh air vents we pump into the ventilation.
It's dark in the long hallway leading to the front of the club. Doors to various storerooms and staff rooms line the hall, only visible from the running lights at the bottom of the wall, the only light that can be seen in this corridor. I installed them this way for a reason. Fucking up against a wall in a dark hall, hundreds of people a few feet away parting, never knowing who might catch you?
Yeah, those are the nights I live for.
This place is more than just a bar to me. It is an extension of myself. I've turned this shithole into one of the most coveted nightclubs and sex clubs this city has ever seen. I worked my ass off to turn this run-down warehouse into what it is today. And I thought I’d have a few more years to enjoy it, sow more wildoats, as my mother calls it. If she only knew what kind of oats I actuallysowand I want to, fuck do I want to. But duty calls.
On the main floor is the nightclub.
A state-of-the-art sound system and a bar that extends the entire length of the club's longest wall. Burgundy booths with dark wood tables and tufted cushions line the exterior of the perimeter. I built little stages for the clubs' in-house dancers, naturally enclosed to prevent drunk customers from touching my girls. I like to give the crowd something to ogle while they're spending their money on high-priced liquor and the hope of getting laid.
The dance floor is huge, and most nights it is full of sweaty bodies grinding to the beat of the music looking for a good time. Glass shelves run to the top of the ceiling with a railing holding up the sliding ladder that runs the entire length of the wall. The glass bottles gleam to the roof, each bottle sparkling as the club's dim lighting hits them at different angles.
I filled my shelves with every kind of liquor you could ever want. I don’t mess around with my booze. With our kind of business, one needs to be prepared to serve the best to thebest.
I like the club... But I like sex more. The basement is where my world begins.
