Revolving Doors (15 page)

~*~*~

I had Chinese food delivered for us girls, and we sat on the tarp, ate and talked shop, where I told them the story of how I found my space meeting them for brunch.

“You guys remember the day Di announced her engagement to Joseph?” I reminded them.

“
Wow!”
my mother said.  “And you kept it in all that time?”

“I did and it was hard! I was in a zone and the waiting was torture!”

“Yeah, when she’s anxious about something, she turns hermit,” my mother warned. “I still remember when she was waiting for the salesman to come back with credit approval at the car dealership when she got her BMW. I kept looking over at her foot tapping the floor and she had this empty look in her eyes!” she laughed. “Nothing me or her dad said caught her attention – until the guy came back with, ‘
pick a color’
.”

“I don’t even know why you stress at all,” Di chimed in. “It seems like you only need to want it for it to come to fruition.”

“Especially from where I sit,” offered Kelli. “I don’t think she gets that yet though, do you Gabriella?”

“Uhmmm…” I contemplated
. “Kind of, I guess.”

~*~*~

Hours later everything was mapped out and tasks were both delegated, and accepted.

In his absence, my dad was assigned to helping me
oversee and manage the construction. Di was on the design and assisting me with vendor quotes, liquor license, furniture selection, and had independently taken the lead on planning the launch party.

Yes!

My mom had thrown around a few ideas for a PR plan and agreed to register the business name, acquire marketing materials and solicit the services of a website designer. 

Kelli and I set a few tentative dates for initiating the recruitment process for my assistant, a project manager, and club personnel.

With Goodie Bagg, it was easier to fulfill staffing requirements because sex would sell regardless and finding talent who believed in the product, and who also had high ambition – enough to move the company forward – hadn’t been a problem. 

Club Rendezvous was different.

It was definitely about to kick into high gear and I had been guarding it with my life. It was the baby I didn’t want anyone to touch, yet I knew it was unrealistic and that I needed to change my thinking.

There was no way Club Rendezvous would have been a success had I pressed forward on a solo
effort. I needed to make revisions, or fail, and I was not interested in the latter, which was why I was so thankful that my dream team was in place.

~*~*~

The next few months seemed to drag and speed up at the same time.

Some days I found myself saying, “
Come on, already
!” While at other times, I was begging for the clock to stop and allow me to catch up. Even so, I pushed forward. The time was nearing, and
slowing down
was no longer an option.

Almost overnight, I was less than one month away from the grand opening.

CHAPTER 26

~*~*~

A few weeks before my opening, I managed to get a free evening and decided that I wanted to do something I hadn’t done in years – go out and party, mingle and unwind.

Kelli, Joi and I, had been to a few gatherings, concerts and such, but that night I wanted to get inside an actual club to dance the night away and indulge in some male attention.

It had been a while, but with work and planning and building what would be my legacy, it was a sacrifice I didn’t think twice about making.

Whenever it did get to be too much, or the drought left me thirsty, my purple friend was tucked nicely in a drawer nearby. What better friend to have than one that could leave you quivering? 

I called my two cohorts to demand they get semi-glammed up to hang out for a few hours. I had no idea excuse central would be in effect. Neither
of them was willing to escape into the night with me.

“Gabs! Are you serious? I’m in for the night, girl. If you had called earlier, I would’ve been ready to go, but I’m safely tucked now,” Joi said. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. Let me know how it went tomorrow.”

“You are such a nerd, Joi! How many things are you gonna back out of?” I charged, agitated.

“Love you too, hun!”

I sat there holding the phone in my hand for a few minutes while I looked at my pretty red dress lying across the bed. That thing was going to look so good on, I couldn’t wait!

Next up was Kelli, who I decided to text instead of calling because if she was going to say no, I didn’t feel like hearing it. I was raring to go
:

“
Hey, Kells! What ya doin’, girl?”

“
Not going, Gabriella. Joi called already, Lol!”

As I dropped the phone onto the bed without responding, the phone rang. Looking at the display, I rolled my eyes and pressed the talk button.

Disappointed, I answered the call annoyed.

“What, Kells!”

“Why are you deciding at the last minute to hit a club…
tonight
? My new friend is on his way over. I would go, but I had already made plans to stay in…
with him
. Surely, you understand?”

“Yeah, I get it. Both of y’all are rejecting me. I see how it is,” I whined, trying to plant a faux guilt trip.

“Stop it!” she laughed. “It ain’t working. You want to come over and chill with us for a little while? I can have him bring over one of his friends.”

“Girl, please!
Hell
no! I’m allergic and completely opposed to, blind dates, thank you. Go on and have your fun. I’m gonna get in the shower and head on out of here.”

“And go where?” she
posed, concerned.

“Out! Are we in the same conversation?”

She laughed. “Yes, smart ass, we are! I just assumed you wouldn’t be going since neither of us is tagging along.”

“Oh yeah, let the whole world stop because y’all boring asses are staying in the house. I hate to break it to you, but there is more to life, okie doke?”

“So you’re actually going to a club…by yourself? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“
I’m going, Kelli
,” I proclaimed firmly. “Love ya. I will talk to you tomorrow.”

Being
the protective one in the group, Kelli had already texted me three times before I was out the door:
Don’t leave your drink unattended
…
Make sure to be aware of your surroundings
…
Call me when you make it back in
.

I pause
d while in the shower and rethink the whole going out by myself thing, but I really wanted to release. I really
needed
to release.

W
omen did it all the time. I could handle it.

NIGHT OUT

CHAPTER 27

~*~*~

When I first entered Allure, I took an immediate liking to it. I didn’t know if I would since I heard about its existence from a woman at the grocery store, of all places, weeks earlier.

“Girl, it’s off the hook, not hood at all and filled to the limit with successful men!”

After
I forfeited my key to valet, and made my way into the entrance, I entertained second thoughts about taking the plunge.

Going to the movies, or mall shopping
unaccompanied is one thing, but a damn club! Quite another.

What the hell was I thinking?!

Whatever I was thinking, I had already stepped foot inside and turning back wasn’t an option. It was either drinks, dancing, mingling or sitting at home with nothing and nobody to do.

My cover charge was paid and my hand was stamped. Allure it was going to be.

When I made my way to the bar, I spotted
Mr. Debonair
out the corner of my eye. Sitting alone, perhaps waiting for a lady friend to come back to the empty seat next to him or maybe waiting for his boys to show up.

He was dressed nice
ly. He had really nice hair. I caught a whiff of his inviting cologne on the way to my barstool.

He looked to be dialing numbers on his phone. I knew for sure he wasn’t calling anyone because the music was a little loud to hear a conversation clearly.

I was all in his business.

You nosey girl, you!

He had appeal, and an air of mystery about him. Like he had a story. The seat I chose left the empty one between us…just in case his company returned.

As he placed his phone atop the bar, I made the subtle gesture of placing my hair behind my ear. I felt instinctively, he’d follow the movement caught by his peripheral.

“Scotch on the rocks,” he instructed the buff, dark-haired, bartender.

“Comin’ right up!” the bartender yelled over the music. “And for you?”
he signaled with a head bob in my direction.

I motioned for him to bend in a little closer as not to yell.

“Uhmm…what’s your specialty? It’s my first time here.”

His friendly face opened up to a smile, and revealed
a set of pretty, white teeth. Something told me that he was always being instructed on what to deliver, when he probably preferred mixing up something nice to show his bartending skills. 

“Well, that depends. What do you normally drink?”

I saw Mr. Debonair look up briefly and I wondered if he was getting annoyed that his drink hadn’t come because of my interrogation of the bartender.

“I don’t really like to
taste
the liquor, but if it helps at all…” my response lingered. “I like blue stuff.”

“You’re funny.
Blue stuff
, huh? What about a Blue Hawaiian? I make a nice one.”

“That sounds perfect! I’ll take it.”

“Okay, back in a minute…with
your
Scotch on the rocks,” he said, pointing to Mr. Debonair “…and a Blue Hawaiian for the new lady.”

When I rotated my stool toward the dance floor, I saw a few people dancing, but not many. Had the floor not been as spacious as it was, I might not have noticed.
What a waste of space
.

Glancing around to scope out the rest of the scene, it appeared that the scales tipped in favor of mingling.

As if they didn’t get enough talking in during the work week. Sheesh.

I left my house looking forward to dancing, not to sit on a barstool the entire evening and waste a perfectly good dress. My plan was to be on display and that’s exactly what I committed to doing.

The bartender returned with my drink.

“Let me know how it tastes!”
he requested.

After taking the first sip I was impressed with his skill to make a blended drink.  He watched as I allowed the taste to set in, then I motioned with a thumbs up, and mouthed, “Excellent…”

“Glad to hear it!” he beamed.

I played it cool, sipping a little and stealing a few glances. Mr. Debonair didn’t know that I’d seen him do the same thing.  If I was correct, he was plotting his move.

For some reason I had my sights set on him. I think it was because he gave me something to think about. Like who he was, where he came from, and where he was going.

Under any other circumstances, it would have been a first come, first serve basis for the most appealing, but something about him rang
potential
– in more areas than one.

A guy approached and while I was hoping that he was only there to place an order from the bartender, somehow I knew different. I immediately detected his eyes on me.

Damn, please don’t let him ruin this,
I thought
.

I was engaged in a pre-meditated master plan, but sure enough, not a minute passed before he stationed his ass on the stool that separated me from Mr. Debonair.

“Hey, Miss Lady…How are you?”

Shit, here we go.

Barely turning to look at him as to not lose sight of my mark, I offered a casual response.

“I’m good. Thank you.”

I purposely neglected reciprocating because I felt that doing so would have given him false hope, and even worse…keep him talking.

I had no interest in knowing how he was doing, and I refused to let him wreck my plans with his cheap Men’s Warehouse special.

Apparently he got the hint, because no sooner than I’d given him my half-assed response, the seat was once again available.

“That wasn’t very nice,” a voice next to me said.

Without turning in his direction, I knew it was Mr. Debonair fully insinuated in my conversation. What I didn’t know was that he had moved seats and was sitting in the previously vacant spot.

I coyly responded, “
Whatever do you mean
?”

“That poor guy really wanted to conversate with you and you shot him down something fierce.”

I wanted to tell him that
conversate
wasn’t a word, but left it alone.

“Fierce? You sure? The music is pretty loud so you must’ve been listening pretty intently to capture that.”

“Well, you are right next to me so it’s not too hard to hear, just like I heard you flirting with the bartender about your blue drink,” he laughed.

“
Ohhh boy
.
First
of all…” I giggled, “…there was
no flirting
with the bartender, thank you very much. Just trying to get my point articulated.
Second
, as far as the
poor guy
, it wasn’t that bad. He’s a big boy. There are plenty of pretty women in here tonight; he’ll just continue to make his rounds until he finds one that
is
interested. One that’s more compatible with him than me.”

“And can I ask why you weren’t interested?”

“Of course you can.”

“Okay…so why?”

He was watching me, with nice brown eyes awaiting my response.

I brought the glass to my lips for the final sip of my blue mixture. I could still hear Kelli in my head telling me, “
Don’t leave your drink unattended.”

After I placed the empty glass on the bar, I turned to Mr. Debonair, rose from my stool and whispered in his ear, “I said you could ask. But…that didn’t mean I would answer it.”

I didn’t stick around to see the look of surprise on his face.

Activity on the dance floor had picked up when Busta Rhymes’
Touch It
remix blasted from the speakers, so I moved where the action was.

I wasn’t going to subject myself to third degree questioning by a guy who decided he wanted to play a game of catch me if you can. No sir,
catch me
…
if you can
.

Yeah, he was cute, but stranger interrogation…not so much. He had decided that he would rather inquire about the next man, versus putting his own bid in for my attention.

So, I decided to see what he was made of once the opportunity had been removed. Something told me he would realize his error and make an attempt to correct it. Why wouldn’t he? I looked amazing I made sure of that.

I’d stamped a seal of approval on my own package prior to leaving the house.

My dark, curly locks fell nicely in place. My short red dress hugged my frame in all the right places: cleavage, waist, hips, and butt. Red stilettos that further accentuated my toned legs, and diamond hoop earrings I treated myself to on Valentine’s Day.

I danced alone and in my own zone. When I was at one with a beat, nothing stopped me.

When a guy approached to dance, I welcomed him in. I liked that he was bold enough to do so. I moved in closer to his body and grinded against him as we danced. He was a good dancer, so it was a groove that I effortlessly fell into. 

“My name is Geoff!”
He said yelling into my ear. He wore expensive cologne, but the mixture of cigar smoke and brandy, ruined it.

Yuck!

I hadn’t planned on having a dance floor discussion. I
only
wanted to dance. I wasn’t too interested in Mr. Geoff breathing more of his mixture of nastiness into my face.

“Damn baby, you are one bad chick! I can’t even lie…The way you sway those hips, got me mesmerized!”

I offered him a smile and nothing more. I’d already spotted Mr. Debonair migrate from the bar to the semi-crowded VIP section.  He stood behind red ropes, overtly gawking.

Eyes that wide deserved a show.

I pulled Geoff closer and with one arm around his waist, I gyrated seductively into his body. Intermittently, I dropped down to the floor and back up, my body doing a wave dance into his, heavy on the hip movements.

I admit it was seductive. That was the intent. And while it wasn’t for Geoff, I noticed he was enjoying himself…a little too much.

Toward the end of the song, I backed into him allowing him to hold onto my waist as we moved to the beat.

I moved my body down to the floor, and as I came back up, so did Geoff’s manhood. 

Uh-oh…

The time had come to pull back. In my effort to put on a show for Mr. Debonair, I neglected to realize what the consequences could be.

Why the hell was he even getting a boner from dancing in the first place?  

I stopped dancing and tugged at his shoulder so he would move his head down to where I could whisper in his ear.

“It was nice dancing with you, Geoff. Have a good night.”

“Uh…Is it cool to get your number?”
he yelled.

Shaking my head I answered, “I’m sorry! I’m not really interested in pursuing anything right now! Just coming out of something serious!” I lied.

He followed up with another comment, but by that time having said all that I needed to say I left him where he stood and headed toward the exit. I was tapped for the night, and I’d managed to dance my drink off so I felt confident enough to drive home.

~*~*~

I was next in line for the valet and when it was my turn, I surrendered my ticket…with instruction.

It wasn’t too long after I got outside that I saw Mr. Debonair approaching.

“Excuse me Lady in Red,” he leaned in to say over the noise from the forming crowd, and the bustle of the oncoming cars.

I looked over feigning surprise and stared him in his eyes.

“Yes?”

I didn’t know if it was the surrounding noise, but he stood there frozen as though he hadn’t heard me acknowledge him.

“
Yes
…” I repeated. “Can I help you?”

“I’m sorry. Excuse me. A bit distracted, he cleared his throat and continued, “…by your beauty.”

I was confused by his bizarre behavior. He was the same person inside, who had tried to question me like we were on an episode of Law and Order, but there he stood awestruck and at a loss for words. I didn’t know how to interpret that.

“Distracted by my beauty? Really? Thank you…
I guess
.”

“I know that sounds lame, so please scratch that…although it is very true. I
was
distracted.”

I smiled at his shyness. It was a surprising characteristic…
if it was genuine
. It seemed to contrast so much from the guy who a short time before wanted to challenge me on something that was none of his business.

“Are you okay now? You need a moment?” I joked.

“I’m good!” He laughed. “But thanks for your concern.”

“No problem. I care about my fellow man, you know?”

“I can’t tell, with the way you left that poor guy standing on the dance floor wondering what he did wrong.”