IX

Jordan made his way into the club through the hidden back door of which only he and Keelan knew. The door had been strictly guarded and very necessary to avoid having to weave through endless bodies of sweats and reeking hormones.

As he rounded the dark corner, he immediately spotted the hunched over figure of his friend seated at the bar, his hands resting on the marble countertop as his fingers scrolled through his phone while he took a sip of what looked like martini.

Sensing the foreboding presence of his friend, Keelan looked up from his phone and sure enough, there was his friend approaching him with his usual stoic face; his hands were embedded deep into the pockets of his black pants. As usual, he was dressed in a black suit with a black tie around his neck.

A smile crawled unto Keelan's face as he immediately tucked his phone in his pocket and got up to greet his friend, their usual pleasantry a typical hand shake as they bumped shoulders.

"What took you so long? I was supposed to pick you up," Keelan shouted over the music and leaned closer to Jordan as they both took their seats on the metallic barstool which had a black foam material for the people to sit on.

"I had some things to take care of," he answered, his voice only an octave higher than the usual volume of his tone, making Keelan have to strain his ears in order to pick up what his friend was saying due to the booming music.

"Oh ok. I initially thought you were going to ditch but I guess I'm just lucky tonight," he snickered as he watched Jordan shrug off his suit jacket before unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows, revealing his fully inked arms underneath.

"So are you going to order something?" he gulped down his own drink, leaving the glass bare as he awaited his friend's response.

"Sure. I'll have a vodka martini," Jordan replied as he loosened his tie and unhooked a few buttons on his now rumpled white shirt.

He ran his hand down his face in stress as Keelan signaled for the bartender who hurriedly got their orders ready and fetched their drinks, dropping the filled glasses onto the black coloured quartz crystal glass countertop.

Jordan grabbed his own glass and immediately downed his drink, releasing a deep sigh hoping to breath out every ounce of stress in his body as the bitter and dry vermouth went down his throat.

He raised his hand again, signaling for another shot. “Martini. Bone dry,” he demanded as he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to forget the day's events before turning his neck side to side hearing a satisfying crack. He did the same, moving his shoulders in a circular motion — hoping to relieve some burden from his shoulders — that also resulting in a comforting pop.

The day had been rather hectic for him since his new wine brand had just been released today. The Cabernet Sauvignon — precisely the La Pelle 2020 Sauvignon Blanc de Napa Valley — would hit the market in two days but the official unveiling of the wine had taken place today at The Beekman which was located in the Financial district of Manhattan.

He had tried to make sure that there were only a few invited guests and some of his employees present at the event but that was simply impossible due to how the press had surrounded the entire event centre, hoping to grasp the jackpot scoop of the century; the unveiling of J.K's new wine brand — the now ruling king of the Cabernets.

“Stressful day uhn?” Keelan asked as he watched the tired figure of his friend. Maybe he shouldn't have suggested celebrating right on the night of the unveiling but there was only a once in a blue moon opportunity with having Jordan spend time with him and not drowning himself in his work as usual.

“You have no idea,” he massaged his temples which were beginning to throb with the music blasting from the speakers hanging off the top corners of the room.

He probably should have skipped out on the celebration offer that Keelan had proposed, at least for tonight.

“Maybe I should just let you retire for the night since you've had a busy day. We could celebrate sometime next time,” Keelan suggested.

“No, it's fine,” Jordan objected. “It's now or never. I probably wouldn't even have any free time after tonight.”

Lifting the now filled lead crystal glass to his lips, he took a sip this time as he let his eyes finally wander round his club. He didn't know why he was doing so, seeing as he technically owned the place and had visited over a million times — courtesy of Keelan — but he went with his guts which told him to do just that.

As his eyes skimmed through the sea of sweaty bodies — some grinding on each other while others made out shamelessly, almost undressing themselves — he had no idea what he was searching for until his gaze stopped on a certain figure hiding beneath the shadows that had been cast upon the room by the circuitous movement of the disco lights in the middle of the dance floor.

He squinted his eyes instinctively as he tried to decipher why the figure seemed rather familiar. Looking closely, he couldn't contain his surprise as his eyes widened in realisation.

It was her.

▬▬▬▬▬

“I can't wait to get wasted!” Oriana shouted in pure excitement as she immediately turned off the engine of her car and practically ran out the doors towards the entrance of the club, not bothering to wait for Emerald, who took her sweet time gathering her things into her purse before stepping out and walking over to the entrance where Oriana stood, waiting with a glare etched on her face.

Emerald only smirked at her expression before ignoring her as she let her gaze look up to the sign above the club; J.K's Niterie was boldly displayed in neon lights flashing against the midnight black building.

“It had to be this J.K dude again,” she mused as she let her eyes fall on the buff figure of the security guard who was patiently waiting for the two beautiful women to show him their IDs. Emerald could make out the amusement in his eyes as his eyes went from Oriana's glare to Emerald's nonchalant expression.

“Good evening, ladies,” he greeted.

“Hi. Good evening,” Oriana's ecstasy was back as she joyfully responded to his greetings.

“Hi,” Emerald only replied as she fished for her ID in her red sling bag.

“Came to chill out?” he asked, trying to make conversation with them and of course, Oriana was more than pleased to fill him in on the happenings in their entire life from their day of conception to their possible death days.

“Something like that. We actually came here to celebrate my promotion at work. It was so amazing,” she dragged out the ‘o’ in ‘so’ as she began ranting, subconsciously passing the amused looking guard her ID.

“So like my boss, Mr Hyde, he had been really cranky about us not getting any juicy information to publish and apparently we were losing money as time went by. He then went full out on us, saying he would gladly fire anyone who didn't get him the most jawdropping, groundbreaking news out there and so we began this hun—”

“Oookay. That's enough, Ori. How bout we leave this lovely man to his job. You wouldn't want him to get fired, would you?” Emerald shot him an apologetic look as she literally dragged Oriana into the club, pushing past the black double doors which had silver door knobs.

Emerald could faintly hear the man's chuckle as he shouted, “Enjoy your night, ladies.”

“You too, Mr Buff,” Oriana shouted back as she ran through the dim lit corridor — where some people were already making out — and into the booming club.

Emerald followed after, shaking her head as she stepped through another set of huge double doors which were left wide open this time. The night was still very young and Oriana was already acting like she had had a thousand shots at one go.

Her emerald green eyes beamed as she scanned through the place displayed before her eyes, feasting on every little detail. She was indeed impressed by what she was seeing.

From the exterior, J.K's Niterie appeared like a typical, local club you saw by the roadside. Other than the shiny midnight black structure that looked really sturdy and expensive on the outside, Emerald hadn't expected no more, no less than a space occupied by a couple booths with a bar off to one side and a dance floor right in the middle of the room but the image she currently took in was way — I mean way — bigger and better than she had assumed.

The exterior of the building gave only an infinitesimal information about the wonders the interior of the club truly held.

‘No wonder Ori chose this place,” she thought as she still couldn't stop gaping at the luxurious innards decorations. One would think she had found a hot chunk of man meat to devour — in Oriana's words, that is.

Right to the corner side of the place is the slightly elevated dance floor, which took some parts of the middle space but left right about more than enough space to contain from single settees to large booths with tables having black crystal quartz glass tops for probably hundreds of people.

Illuminating the entire dance stage yet also casting successive glows of blinking blue and pink lights is a huge disco ball — hanging off the ceiling — shooting rays of laser beam lights. Clearly, the DJ also had his own station away from the floor, unlike most clubs which had their DJ's unit right behind the dance stage.

Looking further, she took in the astonishingly decorated bar right to the far end of the huge club. From the silver stools with black plush materials to aid comfortable sitting for customers to the huge cellarette which projected to the ceiling of the club, forming a slightly curved arc like the vines of a parasitic plant growing upwards and round its unfortunate host.

The cellarette — she wasn't sure she could even call it that due to how big it was  — was adorned in golden lights, gently casting its lustrous luminescence on the barstools and onto the faces of their inhabitants.

A reasonable sequitur from the scrutiny she had just carried out would be that the club looked majestic to say the least; though, if there were better words she could use to describe such grace and beauty, she would definitely use them instead.

‘This J.K dude really has an elegant taste,’ she couldn't help but concede to her thoughts.

She was too engrossed in sinking the majestic view into her mind that she had missed those set of piercing eyes that seemed to stare right into her soul from across the room — precisely, from the bar as her eyes finally fell on Oriana who was busy chatting away with her friends.

Unconsciously clutching her red Acewood PU leather backpack, she took deep breaths to calm her nerves while subconsciously muttering few words of encouragement to herself.

She didn't know why she was currently like this because usually, she never felt so anxious before. Yeah, she really wasn't a people's person but that never mattered when she had to meet her clients; that felt natural for her but this. . . this was something else.

She couldn't help but feel that maybe it was the effect of her isolating herself from the outside world because frankly, other than the regular commute from her home to her workplace, she really had nothing else to do; her social life was practically non-existent yet she couldn't be blamed for this, no, it was no fault of hers at all.

Blinking once. Twice. Then thrice to shove the memories of her past which threatened to burst through the great Wall of Jericho she had built around herself, she let out a breath and began walking towards the group of friends — precisely, Oriana's friends.

Jordan couldn't help but stare at the familiar woman, Emerald Pearce. She had been constantly piercing through his thoughts to the point where it now felt natural to him, as though merely thinking about her fed him a rush of fresh air.

His eyes scanned down her body and as always, he felt his manhood tingle, the familiar yet painful feeling flooding right from the source and round his entire body as he took in her appearance. She was surely going to be the death of him.

Looking away from her — which was by the way, a very arduous and painful task — he looked around and he could feel his fists tightening hardly as he saw more than half of the male population in the club staring at her or specifically, staring at her assets.

His jaw clenched as thoughts of how he could slowly and agonizingly pluck out their disgusting eyes came to mind.

This was going to be a long and painful night for him.