Chapter One
I was about ten seconds away from a meltdown that would rival even the worst mayhem of a certain supermodel. Clenching my cell phone tightly, I gritted my teeth and counted backward from five before addressing the bouncer guarding the front entrance at 716, the club where I was the PR rep.
"Where the hell is the party I booked, Trey?"
The tanned muscle-head shrugged. "Yo, Dragon Lady, I just wave through the ones with the orange wristbands. No wristband? No go."
I bit back the screw you burning the tip of my tongue. "Yo, Trey, you know my best friend is getting married to Dimitri over at Front Door Security, right?" From the look on the bouncer's face, he'd forgotten. "Yeah, you can kiss any chance of a job there goodbye."
Head aching, I pushed into the club's noisy entrance without waiting for a nasty reply from the bouncer. Even though 716 paid their bouncers well, everyone wanted to make the jump to Dimitri Stepanov's security firm. It was starting to be a real pain in my ass.
Not only did his bouncers get first dibs on the openings at Faze, the hot new Houston night club owned by billionaire Yuri Novakovsky, but there were rumors Dimitri would be selecting some of his best bouncers for extensive training to work as bodyguards for the wealthy and elite. It was big money—and that rat bastard Trey wasn't getting a dime of it, if I had any say.
Dragon Lady? What a dick!
On the edges of the club, I searched the gyrating crowd for any sign of my lost party. I'd worked my ass off to book the group of professional football players for this weekend. Other than hip hop artists, no one spent money like professional athletes. Considering revenue at 716 was down and my job was on the line, I needed big spenders at the VIP tables.
More importantly, club goers wanted to rub elbows with celebrities. And I'd promised my thousands of Twitter followers and Facebook friends that they'd have a chance to do just that if they came out to 716 tonight. I never lied to my followers and always gave them exactly what I'd promised. Now some sort of velvet rope threatened my reputation.
But as I fought my way across the crowd, I wondered if it really was a snafu. It wouldn't be the first time one of the bouncers had been working a side game to line his own pocket while hurting the club.
As a wide-eyed intern working PR at some of the smaller clubs the firm represented, I'd seen some truly shady shit. Backroom drug deals, hookers, underage drinkers—if there was action to be had, there were bouncers who wouldn't mind getting their hands dirty for some cold, hard cash.
Something fishy was going on here…and this dragon lady was going to sniff it out.
At the bar, I planted both hands on the polished quartz and shoved up to reach the ear of the sexy Brazilian who tended bar on Friday nights. "Where is Bobby?"
Celia pointed behind her, indicating the back of the house. This time of night, the rabbit's warren of hallways and stockrooms turned into a damn den of iniquity. Girding my loins and expecting the absolute worst, I squeezed and shoved my way to the locked door leading to the rear of the building. I grabbed my lanyard and swiped the ID card hanging around my neck through the card reader.
Inside the darkened hallway, I shut the door firmly behind me and let my eyes adjust to the even dimmer lighting. The closed door muted the thudding music and the incessant throbbing in my head eased some. Vivian, my best friend and roommate, warned me that I'd be deaf by thirty if I continued to work the club scene. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to give my eardrums a well-earned rest.
Steeled for the worst, I started opening doors. A couple of the rooms were empty. One was being used for some kind of weird amateur porn shoot between two girls and a guy wearing bright yellow briefs. I shut that door fast and kept moving. Another door revealed some preppy college kid scoring coke. Chains, the dealer, was a lowlife I'd specifically asked Bobby, the head bouncer, to keep out of the place.
Holding the door open, I scowled at the kid. "Get the hell out of here. Now!"
He dropped the drugs and almost ran me over trying to get out of there. Chains bent down to retrieve his product. The kid had left without getting back his money so Chains pocketed it.
"Baby, I bet I got something here that would mellow you out." His hand brushed his crotch.
I nearly gagged at his disgusting come-on. "Yeah? Well, I got something in my purse that will hollow you out."
His eyes widened but he quickly recovered. "Come on, sugar. Don't be so nasty. Why don't we work together? I'll cut you in on my action."
"Not interested, Chains." I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. "It's time for you to go."
He took a step toward me but I didn't move. I'd learned a long time ago never to show weakness to any man. His hand slipped to his pocket. I squared my shoulders and rocked my weight to my back foot. Even in high heels, I could still kick his ass.
"You touch me and you'll be crawling out of here with your balls in your pocket."
"Ay, mami!" He laughed but put up both hands. "All right. I don't need to be told twice. I'm out of here." As he slipped by me, his eyes narrowed. "You look familiar. You sure you ain't from my neighborhood?"
The reminder of the place where I'd come from wasn't a pleasant one. "Anything is possible."
His eyes widened with sudden recognition. "Wait! I got it! Are you related to Tommy Cruz?"
I cringed at the mention of my ne'er-do-well cousin. "Yes. Why?"
He sucked air through his teeth and grimaced. "Too bad about that job he fucked, huh?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." I truly didn't. I tried to stay far away from the criminal activities of my cousin and wayward father. "Frankly, I don't care. Now go."
He looked like he wanted to say something else but didn't. With jerky movements, he pimp-walked down the hallway. I made sure he let himself out before turning my back on him. That same crap neighborhood where I'd been raised had taught me numerous survival skills.
Three doors down, I finally located Bobby. My belly lurched at the sight of him pounding into some girl. Average height and pot-bellied, Bobby wasn't the kind of man a hot young thing like that blonde would normally bang on a Friday night. Her tiny thong dangled from one ankle. She still had her bright red pumps on and her skirt was hiked up around her waist.
Bobby's pasty white ass pumped as he gave it to her. He sounded like a damn pig as he grunted and snorted. Clearly, he wasn't much concerned about her pleasure. She looked about as excited as a girl making her yearly visit to the gynecologist.
When he finally came, he jerked and made the strangest yowling noise. There was no doubt in my mind I'd be haunted by the sound of Bobby having an orgasm for the rest of my life.
He pulled out and let the young woman drop to the floor without a care for her safety. She landed on both feet but tottered precariously. Unfortunately, I got a good look at his stumpy you-know-what. Now I was almost certain I'd never be able to have sex again. The combination of optical assaults was too much for me. Where was the eye-bleach when a girl needed it?
Bobby leered at me. "Give me five minutes to recover, Lena. I'd love to bend you over that stack of booze."
I shot him the finger. "You're a pig."