Chapter 18 (1/2)

When I step out of the elevator, I spot Trevor’s black hair near the entrance. In his black dress pants and cream sweater, he reminds me of Noah a bit. I take a second to admire how handsome he looks before I make my presence known. When his eyes find me, they go wide, and he makes a noise between a cough and a squeak. I can’t help but laugh a little as his cheeks flush.

“You look . . . you look beautiful,” he says.

I smile and say, “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

His cheeks redden. “Thanks,” he murmurs. It’s an odd thing to see him off balance like this. He’s usually so calm and collected.

“There they are!” I hear Kimberly call.

“Wow, Kim!” I say and wave my hand over my face, like I’m dispelling some illusion. She looks stunning in a red halter dress that only reaches halfway down her thighs. Her short blond hair is pin straight, making her look sexy, yet classy at the same time.

“I have a feeling we’ll be fighting men off all night,” Christian says to Trevor, and they both laugh as they escort us out to the sidewalk.

At Christian’s instruction, the car takes us to a really nice seafood restaurant, where I have the most delicious salmon and crab cakes, and where Christian tells us all sorts of hilarious stories about his days in publishing in New York. We all have a great time, and Trevor and Kimberly tease him a little, since he has a good sense of humor about everything.

After dinner, the car takes us a short distance to an all-glass three-story building. Through its windows I watch hundreds of flashing lights illuminate swaying bodies, creating a fascinating mix of lights and darks across limbs and bodies. It’s not far off from what I envisioned a club would be like, though much larger and with a lot more people.

As we get out, Kimberly grabs my arm. “We’ll go to a more laid-back place tomorrow—some of the guys from the conference wanted to come here, so here we are!” She laughs.

The very large man guarding the door holds a clipboard in his hands and is clearly controlling access to the inside. A line of expectant partygoers fills the entire sidewalk and reaches around the corner of the street.

“Will we have to wait long?” I ask Trevor.

“Oh no.” He chuckles. “Mr. Vance doesn’t wait.”

I soon see what he means when Christian whispers something to the bouncer and the big man moves the rope to let us through immediately. I’m a little dazed when I walk in, with music pounding and lights dancing across the massive smoke-filled space.

I’m pretty sure I’ll never understand why people like to pay to get a headache and inhale synthetic smoke while grinding on strangers.

A woman in a short dress leads us up some stairs to a small room with thin curtains for walls. Within are two couches and a table.

“This is a VIP section, Tessa,” Kimberly tells me as I look around with curious eyes.

“Oh,” I answer simply and follow their lead by taking a seat on one of the couches.

“What do you usually drink?” Trevor asks me.

“Oh, I don’t usually,” I answer.

“Me either. Well, I like wine, but I’m not much of a drinker.”

“Oh no, you are drinking tonight, Tessa. You need it!” Kimberly says loudly.