“No, that’s it, thank you.”
“Our pleasure. As you requested, I made sure to call the local papers and paparazzi, they were going to show up anyway because they wanted to get a look at Pitbull, but now they know that Kiegan will be here as well. I’ve made sure that there will be pictures of him printed online.”
“Excellent, thank you Karen.”
With that I stood up and shook her hand, and knowing there was nothing else for me to do, I made my way back to the pounding music and crowded dance floor.
Of course, I wanted to let Kiegan know we had a VIP room. That was exactly where I intended to spend all my time, I had no desire whatsoever to go out and dance with some drunk idiots. Clubbing just wasn’t my scene. If it were up to me, I’d be curled up in bed with a glass of white wine and a good book, but unfortunately, that doesn’t get your boss’ picture on the front page of TMZ.
Squishing my way through the crowds, I found myself in the middle of a group of people dancing away to the latest Katy Perry hit. I spotted Kiegan through the crowd and forced my way through.
“There’s a VIP room set up for you, whenever you want it,” I yelled into his ear as he spotted me, not even breaking a beat.
“Sweet, thanks sis. Wanna dance?”
“Absolutely not,” I yelled back.
“Good,” he replied, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer towards him.
“Wait, I said no!” I exclaimed, trying to pull away from him.
“I know what you said, and I know what you really want,” he said into my ear, and I knew he was right. Damn him, he was right. How did he know? Why did he have this effect on me?
“Fine, one song,” I conceded, trying to turn off the voice in my brain yelling at me to stop it, yelling at me to go to the VIP room and play 94% on my phone until it was time to go.
As we moved together, our bodies as one on the dance floor, it was like everyone else disappeared. I didn’t think about anything other than the beat, and the man standing in front of me, the man I’d had sex with less than twelve hours earlier, the most taboo kind of sex.
The beat pounded in my ears as his hands found my hips, the feeling of his fingers on my skin bringing back memories from before, and I knew that if I didn’t get away after one song, I was going to be in trouble.
Three songs later I finally pulled away.
“I’m done,” I yelled at Kiegan. “I’ll be in the VIP room.”
He just smiled at me and nodded before I turned and made my way up an old set of stairs to the loft guarded by a bouncer.
“I’m with Kiegan Hunt, I’m his PA Tina,” I told the guy, who nodded and let me in. “Second door on the left,” he told me, and I walked through a hallway that quite frankly reminded me of what I imagined the private area of a strip club must have looked like. White carpets with pink and UV fluorescent light shining all over it, white walls, and solid doors that led into windowless rooms. I knew this was one of the hottest clubs in Miami, and if this was what passed for hip and modern, and not the clubbing equivalent of 80s porn, well then I was well out of the loop.
I opened the second door to the left and found myself in a room that was at least quite a bit classier than the hallway. The walls were black, black lights shone down on me, and a whole bunch of dark purple and blue bean bag chairs and couches were spread out throughout the room. Three bottles of champagne sat in bowls of slowly melting ice, with dozens of glasses set on small tables around the couches.
A floor-to-ceiling window, obviously one-way, gave me a perfect view of the whole dance floor. Pitbull was well above everyone else in the DJ booth, spinning his own music in with those of other popular bands, the crowd screaming his name from time to time. I stood at the window and watched the partiers. I could see Kiegan, dancing away with some random chick, and forced my jealousy down. At least he’s not touching her, I told myself to make myself feel better.
Why do you care? This is Operation Nothing Happened, remember? So Kiegan can do whatever he wants, just like he always has.
I sighed as my brain tried to act as the voice of reason. It was too bad my body never seemed to agree.
I turned away from the window and sat down on one of the couches. The music blasted into this room through the speakers, but it wasn’t quite as deafeningly loud as down on the floor.
Looking at the champagne, I decided I deserved a drink. I popped it open and poured myself a glass. Sipped it slowly as I lay down on the couch and closed my eyes. How the hell had my life gotten so complicated? It was my birthday, the start of my twenties, and this was definitely not what I had envisaged to start off the greatest decade of my life.