Heartstopper Page 2

  He sits down beside me and grins, his eyes piercing into me. For some reason, my flesh crawls at his look. It’s just a bit off, even if he is hot.

  “So where you from?” His voice has a nasal, whiny tone it, and I regret telling him to have a seat.

  Somewhere you’re not, I want to say, and hopefully will never be. The words are on my lips, but I’m not comfortable being rude.

  “Summerfield,” I say diplomatically. Come on, it’s been ten months. I should give the guy a chance. Maybe he’s just nervous and he’s actually sweet.

  He arches an eyebrow. “Summerfield, huh? Where’s that?”

  I wave my hands nondescriptly. “Off somewhere on the coast.”

  He chuckles. “It’s like that, huh?” He nods at the waiter. “Can I have a Bud Light for my lady friend here?”

  “You don’t have to buy me a drink,” I try to protest. I hate beer.

  “I insist” he says firmly, grinning at me. “A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be sitting here alone without a beer.”

  “Is he the one?” Hannah whispers sarcastically in my ear. I could just kill her. The guy saddled next to her doesn’t give me the creeps and remind me of Draco Malfoy.

  I mouth No, giving her an outraged look.

  “Remember what you said. Unleash the Rox!” she jokes.

  More like I’m thinking of unleashing The Rock to come lay the smackdown on this dude’s ass if he doesn’t take a hint.

  The beer comes, and Mr. Weird tries to talk me up some more. “So, what do you do?”

  “Office stuff, nothing cool,” I reply, trying to politely let the guy know I’m not interested. “You’d be bored.”

  But he’s not having it. “Oh, every job seems boring when you’re doing it,” he says, fiddling with his drink. “Hey, try the beer. It’s pretty good.”

  “Not just yet. I don’t want to have to run to the ladies’ room all night,” I reply. Actually, hitting up the ladies’ room might be a good idea. It’d get me away from this guy.

  “Oh, I get that. But come on, what could one beer hurt? Hey, if you need to pee, I’ll escort you to the guy’s room. Nobody’ll say anything.”

  Seriously? Now I don’t feel bad. My gut feeling was right. This dude is a creep. As the music changes, I mutter under my breath, “Somebody please fucking save me.”

  Chapter 2

  Jake - One Hour Ago . . .

  “This is gonna be epic,” Nathan Scott, my childhood friend and business partner, boasts as the limo we’re in rounds the corner. He’s seated across from me, dressed sharp as a tack for our big night.

  “All the cards have lined up for us,” he continues. “We’ve got a great local band and an assload of local celebrities. We even got that girl who’s got like two million Instagram followers because of her ass. That ass and Club Jasmine are going to be in front of two million people by the end of the night. I’m telling you, we’ve got everything.” Nathan claps his hands and rubs them together. “This is going to be huge, Jake. Huge!”

  I shift again in my cushioned seat, messing with the cufflink of my shirt. I can’t deny the excitement in Nathan’s words, but I know you can do all the right things and still have a business fail. So I’m not getting my hopes up too much yet.

  The nightclub was his idea, developed right about the time the rumors started about Graham Holdings, the company I work for, buying out Franklin Consolidated. I’d been reluctant to invest at first. But when Nathan laid out the numbers, I was sold. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” I say.

  “Damn, man, can you be any more excited?” Nathan says, peering at me with a scowl. “This is a big day for us.”

  It’s not that I’m not excited, and I usually consider myself calm and collected under pressure, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sweating bullets. We poured a lot of money in this thing. In fact, I poured everything I’ve saved into this.

  I need this to succeed.

  Especially when I have Sophie depending on me to take care of her, I think to myself. Sophie’s my sixteen-year-old sister who was orphaned six years ago when our parents were taken in a car accident.

  She wanted to come with me tonight. Of course, she knew she couldn’t since she’s underage. “You can let me in. I don’t even need a fake ID,” she’d said, bouncing up and down and trying to look her cutest. Maybe that works when she wants me to let her buy a new skirt on my credit card, but this isn’t the same thing.

  Still, it makes me smile. I’d done the same shit when I was younger, but I’m not going to let her break off into bad habits.

  “See it?” Nathan asks as I’m still silent in my thoughts, his Bronx accent coming on full as he pulls my mind back to the limo. “The fuck? It’s all right in front of you. We got the whole fucking world at our feet.”

  Nathan's lucky that he works independently because he curses like a sailor.

  I adjust my collar, rolling my neck. I’m not in a full-on tux, but I’m in a designer suit that I bought just for the club. It’s a slightly brighter blue than I’d wear for my day job with a pristine white dress shirt and metallic red tie. Nathan insisted I wear something that ‘pops’. “I was just saying there’s a still lot of work to do, that’s all.”

  It’s easy for Nathan to feel more nonchalant about the whole project. He’s a stockbroker who’s gotten rich with other people’s money, whereas I’ve had to work for mine. My grandfather lent me a name and a legacy that got me into a good school, but Mom’s love of Dad meant a middle-class life. Climbing the corporate ladder has been grueling. I’ve busted my ass and more than once pulled eighteen-hour days to make sure that I’m in a place of power. I’m going to be the Regional President for the Franklin Consolidated subsidiary, and I plan to do great things with the role.

  Still, I’ve got responsibilities, Sophie being the chief one. The five million I sank into this club could set her up for life. Could being the operative word. “We have a long way to go,” I say.

  “And I have every confidence we’ll make back every red cent,” Nathan says. “You do too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have signed on.”

  It's hard to argue. I knew this was a risk, but I don’t mind that. I’ve always been guided by my instincts, and when something looks good, I go for it.

  I shrug. “You’re right. It’s just a helluva few days—our grand opening and this merger. I start in my new position on Monday.”

  “Oh, what’s up with that?”

  “I’m being sent to kick a little ass for an underperforming unit.” To say it’s been underperforming is a mild way of putting it. “I’ve been told to cut the fat or burn the place down if I have to. I’m not looking forward to being ‘that’ guy. I know some of the in-house employees are going to hate me.”

  “Oh, well. Fuck ‘em is what I’d say,” Nathan says. “You do you.”

  “Too bad I love my job,” I say. “They might hate me for a little while because I’m new, but trust me, they’re gonna respect me by next quarter. Those who are left.”

  “If you say so,” Nathan says. “Glad I don’t have to do that shit. Making money with other people's money is my specialty. I don’t have to work on someone’s job. Which is why you should be jumping for this club to succeed. If it goes right, you can retire off all the Benjamins we bank.”

  I chuckle. “That’s the plan,” I say, not wanting to tell him what I’m thinking. Truth is, I don’t think I’ll be satisfied even if this does turn into a huge income generating machine. I can’t imagine just retiring right now. I work too much to even imagine what that would be like.

  “Speaking of which,” Nathan says as the limo rolls up to the sidewalk of the club. There’s a good amount of press, and even a few of the VIPs are gathered outside the club. I’m as impressed by it during the day as I know it’s going to look once the sun goes down. It was one of the things I insisted on, that our club looked as classy during the day as it will at night.

  The crowd applauds as I get out. I shake hands w
ith our local boxing champ and pose with him for a few publicity shots on the red carpet as the crowd builds. Cameras flash, and as the sun touches the horizon behind the club, it’s a certified throng.

  Nathan and I both adjust our suits, and I wave as we mount the platform in front of the fountain. Nathan pauses, giving me a wink. “It’s show time!”

  I know we look strange. I tower over Nathan at six foot three while he’s a modest five foot six. The cameras are flashing in our faces as soon as we’re ready, press calling our names and people in the crowd already chanting for the club.

  Our staff strings the big red ribbon across the stairs leading up to the entrance, and I swear that I feel like I’m at a Hollywood premier. When Nathan brings over the special scissors that we’re supposed to use for the ceremony, really just painted up hedge clippers, the camera flashes are nearly blinding. I lift my hand, taking the wireless mic from Nathan.

  “Thank you all for coming,” I start. “I’m not going to say that we’re as important as opening a new wing at the university hospital. But I’m proud of the work our team has done, and I’m looking forward to enjoying a few hours relaxing here. Thank you again.”

  There’s polite applause, and I take one arm of the clippers while Nathan takes the other.

  A cheer goes up from the crowd as Nathan and I slice through the ribbon, and the two of us lead the VIPs up the stairs and through the doors. It’s been awhile since I’ve been here. I’ve been so busy setting up my place here in town and getting things settled with my transition to Franklin Consolidated. But seeing it like this, I have to give it to the architects. The place is a dream, with the perfect blend of classic touches that I like along with cutting-edge lighting and styling. It’s going to be a unique club for a very long time.

  I check out the bar and the stage, then head to the VIP section overlooking the club just as the doormen start letting in the regular customers.

  “This club is amazing,” one of the first women through the doors says to Nathan as she comes up to where we are. She’s going around and checking everything out I guess.

  By the look in Nathan’s eyes, I don’t think he’d be opposed to taking her home tonight. “Thank you. My partner here helped, of course. But all the heavy lifting was on me,” he says to her.

  I smirk. Nathan’s going to take the credit, huh? “Well, I let you do the heavy lifting since you’re closer to the floor. Less distance to move.”

  The girl chuckles, but Nathan’s undeterred. “You know what they say, big things come in small packages. And you’re right, having three legs to stand on helps.”

  I have to chuckle. Nathan is an outrageous flirt, and it works. The girl’s eyes flicker down to his crotch before she smiles. Nathan pats the seat on the couch next to him, and she sits down, making me shake my head. He’s going to have a fun night.

  “Champagne, sir,” the waitress says, handing me a glass. She’s wearing a form-fitting blouse, a damn near painted-on skirt, and is even some wearing some thick-rimmed glasses, totally playing up the naughty professional vibe of the night. But she’s as professional as can be, just like we instructed all of our employees.

  It was one of the things I insisted on. While I know Nathan would love to sample what some of the girls could offer him, I won’t allow it on my watch. I want to set an example for Sophie, and that means showing her that I can treat my employees with respect. I can be a gentleman. And I want my employees acting with respect too.

  “So how much do you think we’ll clear tonight?” I ask, getting down to business. One of the local celebs comes up, shaking hands. I return the favor, sending over a bottle of Kristal as thanks for coming by.

  “You send more bottles like that? We might break even,” Nathan laughs. “We’re doing just fine, man. I’ll check with the manager before we leave tonight. He’ll get me an estimate. But remember, tonight isn’t about turning profit. It’s about getting rep. We get rep now, and we make bank later.”

  We chat for another forty-five minutes or so, and I’m amazed as the club fills up. There’s no way the folks still outside are getting in for hours unless they’ve got a reservation.

  “Great turnout!” Nathan crows, loving the flow of people still coming through the doors. It’s fun, and best of all, authentic.

  “It is,” I murmur. I have to say even I’m impressed. “It’s a weight off my chest . . .”

  My voice trails off as I see her walk in. She stands out in the crowd of mostly whites and blacks in a fire engine red dress that hugs her body like it was custom made for her. Long brown hair frames her angelic face, and while I’m too far away to see her eyes, her lips are perfect. The way her cheekbones are shaped, she looks like . . . “An Angel.”

  “What?” Nathan asks, but I barely hear him as I watch her breathlessly. She goes over to the bar with a girl who’s obviously her friend or wingman, and a thread of anger courses through my head as I see some guy come up on her. I grip my glass harder as I see him laying on the moves, even though she doesn’t seem too into it.

  Nathan waves his hand in front of my face. “Yo, Jake, are you listening to me?”

  I blink rapidly, shaking my head as I turn back to him. “Huh?”

  “I said this place is going to change our lives.”

  “Hold that thought,” I say, my eyes and my mind on one thing only. I toss back the rest of my glass and get to my feet, heading for the stairs. As I leave the VIP area, I’m not thinking about Nathan, or money, or even how well our grand opening is going to turn out tonight. All I can see is the angel in a red dress.

  Chapter 3

  Roxy

  “So, how about we go back to my place?” the guy asks for the second time. Is ‘no thanks’ somehow going to change in three minutes?

  I try to hold back my annoyed scowl. Go back to his place? I’m about ready to splash my untouched beer in his fucking face. I’ve turned him down for a dance. He’s not that bad-looking. I’m sure he could find some girl in here, even with his creepy ass vibe. Why the fuck’s he still here with me?

  I look around and see that Hannah’s deserted me. I can see her over on the dance floor, twerking her ass up against some cute dude. I’m certain he’s about five minutes from blowing a load in his slacks with the way she’s moving.

  I look back over just in time to see Dr. Strangelove pushing the bottle closer to me, like he’s trying to remind me that it’s there and force me to drink it, but he’s gotta learn that there’s a lot of scrap in this little body. “Drink up,” he says.

  That’s it. I just can't with this guy.

  I open my mouth to finally tell the guy to fuck off. I’ve been overly polite and have made it perfectly clear that I don’t want what he’s selling. But before the words can leave my lips, a penetrating voice behind me speaks up. “Everything okay, Angel? Sorry I’m late. I was busy upstairs.”

  I spin in my seat to get a look at the voice and my heart stops. Seriously, I might need a defibrillator to get it back beating again as the breath leaves my lungs. I take in the purest blue eyes I’ve ever seen under dark hair that glimmers and sparkles as the lights of the club catch deep within it. His chiseled jawline frames a sensual mouth, and it’s hard to pull my eyes away from his gaze and take the rest of him in.

  He’s tall and broad-shouldered, his custom-tailored suit fitting him perfectly.

  Fuck being a heartthrob. He’s a heartstopper. That’s what this guy is.

  My mouth opens like a fish, but Mr. Heartstopper winks at me and I’m able to brush off my momentary shock enough to play along. “No, honey, I was just having him warm your seat for you until you got back from that little curb stomp appointment.” I flash a smile, not letting the nervousness I feel flicker through. I turn and give Dr. Strangelove a pointed look. “Does that guy still have all of his front teeth?”

  My former creepy-ass suitor scowls, and for a moment, I fear he’s about ready to fight for his seat. But when Mr. Heartstopper gives him a hard look, he gets
up from his seat, mumbles something, and disappears in the crowd.

  Relief flows through me and some of the tension leaves my body when I can’t see his face anymore. The music thrums, mixing with my heartbeat as I look at my savior, and I feel like this night’s going to change my life. The stage is almost prepared for the main act, a rock band that’s hot on the charts and has a fresh sound. I’ve been looking forward to it, but now I have another sweet distraction.

  Trying to shake off my anxiety, I poke the guy playfully in the chest. “You got a blue leotard under there?”

  He arches an eyebrow at me, confused but with a grin on his face. Fuck, he’s hot. “No, why?”

  “The way you showed up and saved me from that creep, you must be Superman,” I joke. “I’m wondering where you keep the red cape.”

  He chuckles, taking the seat next to me. “Nope, not Superman, but I have to admit to being called the man of steel a few times in my life.”

  I arch an eyebrow. “Modest much?” Looking at him and his cut physique, though, I don’t doubt him. That suit can only hide so much of his body.

  “You asked what I had under my suit. I was just telling you. Being real, you know?” His eyes twinkle, and something tells me he’s biting back a joke. I can’t help it, I smile. I like a man who can keep up with my sense of humor.

  But the other half of my mind is dirty enough to know what he’s talking about. He has balls of steel and a huge, throbbing, steely cock. Fuck, we haven’t even introduced ourselves and I’m already getting hot.

  “So what’s your name then, Superman?” I ask.

  He chuckles as if he’s unused to a woman being so direct with him. “Jake,” he says. “How about you, Angel?”

  “Roxy,” I say. I love the way he calls me Angel, even though I feel like anything but right now. Angel definitely sounds better than horny succubus. “And before you ask, yes, I rock hard.”

  He laughs. “Cheeky, aren’t you? I like the name. It’s cute.”