“Yeah, but it’s—”
“I don’t give a fuck if it’s the president.” I looked down at him. “It’s in the contract they signed. No outside alcohol. You need me to do it?”
He shook his head. “No, sir. I can handle it.”
I nodded my approval. Dominic was a college student who busted his ass here and pulled good grades. He was a good kid. Funny how I saw him as a kid when he was twenty-two and I was thirty-four. But I’d lived a hell of a lot in my years on this Earth. A little too much at times.
My next stop was the kitchen, where I watched the staff silently from a corner. I made sure the food was leaving the shelf and heading to customers table shortly after being plated. We only served light food to most of our customers. Those in our VIP rooms could get anything their rich little hearts desired, though, whether it was a perfectly grilled steak or a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. We went out of our way to make Six a cut above the rest.
The sound of muffled, angry male voices caught my ear and I turned for the kitchen’s swinging door. I’d just gotten it open when I heard glass shattering. Motherfucker. I wasn’t about to allow a bar fight in my upscale club.
A crowd was clustered around a table near the bar and I pushed my way through. A couple of frat boys were throwing punches at each other and a third one held a broken beer bottle up, trying to hold off two more pimpled brats.
“Gimme that, you *,” I muttered, pulling the broken bottle out of the guy’s trembling hand.
I put it on the table and grabbed each of the two fighters by the collars of their shirts.
“Get your asses out of here,” I said as I dragged them toward the door. “Go spend your lunch money getting wasted somewhere else.”
Two of my bouncers, Cecil and Dan, approached. They each took one punk and finished dragging them to the door. I looked back and saw that another bouncer was sweeping the broken glass into a dustpan.
With that fire out, I decided to patrol the outside of the building. If nothing else, I needed some fresh air. Wiping the asses of adults all the time was fucking exhausting.
Vivian
Eric raised his glass in the air and smiled, his eyes full of meaning as they met mine.
“To new beginnings,” he murmured.
He clinked his glass against mine and raised it to his lips, tossing back a big drink of the amber liquid. I sipped my wine, my heart hammering in my chest. I had a very good feeling about him.
Could it really happen so quickly? This blind date was about the hundredth I’d gone on since accepting a job at a family law firm in New York City. I usually knew right away whether I’d met someone who’d make a good friend or someone who I should draft up a restraining order for at the end of the date.
Never had I met a man I could see a second, third and fourth date with. Until now.
Eric Masterson checked every box on my list for the perfect man. He was a good listener with a great sense of humor, had a great career as a stock broker and was very easy on the eyes. With dark, close-cropped hair, an athletic build and warm brown eyes, he’d drawn a second look from the women at the table next to us when we’d arrived. For the first time since arriving in the Big Apple ten months ago, I actually hoped for a goodnight kiss at the end of a date.
“So, Vivian,” Eric started.
“Viv,” I reminded him. “My friends call me Viv.”
“I’m hoping to be more than a friend.”
I felt a goofy grin spreading across my face. “Well, you’re off to a great start.”
“Another drink?”
I sighed and looked at my watch. “I wish I could, but I have an early hearing.”
I liked setting up dates for Thursday nights so I could beg off in the name of work when I needed to, but in this case, it was because I actually had to. It was after eleven, and my alarm relentlessly sounded at six every weekday.