“Si tu ne croyais pas aux fant?mes avant de venir ici ce soir, il en est la preuve. Il a un intérêt dans ce club. Une danseuse. Elle ne parle à personne ici. Jamais. Elle est escortée partout où elle va. Un des videurs les a suivis une fois et a disparu. Ce ne sont pas les hommes avec qui plaisanter.” If you didn’t believe in ghosts before you came here tonight, he is proof. He has one interest in this club. A dancer. She doesn’t talk to anyone here. Not ever. She’s escorted everywhere she goes. One of the bouncers followed them once and disappeared. These are not the men to be messed with.
“Merci.” Thank you.
Just after our exchange, I stop drinking, and after politely declining several appealing suggestions from my dancer, I pry Preston from the brunette. Wrapping his arm around my neck, I begin the task of hauling him out of the club while he struggles against me, whispering declarations to his abandoned dancer standing feet away.
“Je te retrouverai, mon amour.” I will find you again, my love. Palm on his chest, he grins at her. “Finally, I have found true love in the city made for lovers. And now I have to leave. Au revoir, ma chérie.”
“I’m willing to bet she’ll move on quickly,” I huff as he struggles against me, slurring his sentimental goodbye.
He turns to face me, not at all pleased I’ve cut this part of our night short. “What do you know about love, man?”
“That it’s distracting your feet, do me a favor and try to remember what they’re for.”
“That blonde was into you. Why didn’t you pounce on that?”
“Not my type.”
“What is your type? You like a whip cracker and rope, don’t you? It’s always the quiet ones. Tell me, King, am I right?”
“Use your feet,” I grunt as I practically drag him across the room.
“I bet you like ’em mean,” he says, stopping the two of us in the middle of the club. “I need to take a piss.”
After waiting an eternity outside the bathroom, we make it to the entrance, which is now deserted, thanks to the lateness of the hour and the rapidly dropping temperature.
“Where’s the car?”
“I called him while I was taking a leak. He’s not far.”
He leans back against the side of the building, his eyes closed. “I shouldn’t have had that last drink. The air is helping. I’ll be all right in a minute. Just need my second wind. The night is still young, King.”
“You’re done.”
“I am, aren’t I?” He slowly opens his eyes, not a trace of humor in his tone. “In more ways than one.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, even with my parents six feet under, I have expectations to meet. A family full of overachievers to impress back home. The minute I step off that plane, they’ll be peering over my shoulder for the rest of my life.” He exhales, his breath visible and glowing from the neon shed off the club lights. “For you, this was a Friday night, but for me…well, it’s my last hurrah.”
“You’ve got college.”
“No, I don’t.” He nods over his shoulder toward the club. “No offense to working ladies, but I’m not interested in strippers, man. It was just something to check off my list. Another experience I can say I didn’t miss out on. There are no strip clubs in my future. Hell, there’s no fucking fun in my future.”
“What’s in your future?”
“Boredom. A shit ton of it, followed by more boredom. Rich boy problems, I know.” He cups the back of his head. His slicked brown locks thoroughly picked through by the fingers of the dancer. “The money is mine, but with it comes the pressure. I have to accomplish more than being a spoiled trust fund baby. Want to know the worst part? The road ahead isn’t that unappealing to me. I’m kind of a no-frills guy.”