Page 87 of I Stop Somewhere Waiting For You

“The owner!” She bounces up and down.

“Who’s that?” I continue to eye her with amusement at how giddy she’s acting over some guy.

I feel Daphne go rigid beside me as Maddison continues. “I swear to God, Maverick Bishop is the sexiest man I have ever laid eyes on. I want to lick every inch of those tattoos.”

“What?” Gripping hold of Daphne’s arm, I attempt to steady my legs. I look to her, my eyes seeking confirmation surrounding Maddison’s claims that Mav owns the club.

“What?” Maddison asks. “What’s the matter?”

Daph’s eyes lock with mine, offering a slight nod of the head. “Yeah, babe. I’m sorry. I thought you knew. Mav owns Lounge. He owns pretty much all of the hot spots in the city. Echo, Envy, Blush, Youth, Niche, Torque… they’re all his.”

“Mav?” Maddison looks to us, her eyes widening. “Do you know him?! Oh my God, you have to introduce me!”

“Stand down, ya thirsty bitch.” Daph points a finger at Maddison before directing her attention back to me. “We can go somewhere else.”

I’m about to take her up on that offer when a large man rocking a very expensive suit with an earpiece approaches us. “Ms. Hunter. Ms. Burke.” He addresses me and Daph specifically. “If you’d be so kind to follow me inside. We have your VIP table set up for the evening.”

The girls’ eyes go wide, their excitement evident in their expressions.

“We can wait in line like the others,” Daphne interjects.

“Nonsense,” the man protests. “Mr. Bishop insists, and your tab is on the house tonight.”

“Daphne, come on!” Maddison encourages, gesturing not so subtly toward the door. “Mr. Bishop insists.”

Daphne glances to me once more, silently seeking my answer. I glare at the bouncer, though my issue isn’t with him. It’s with Mr. Bishop.

“Where is he?” I seethe, thoroughly tired of these mindfuck games.

“Upstairs, Ms. Hunter. If you follow me inside, I can show you the way.”

He gestures for us to make our way toward the door, where we enter into a dimly-lit vestibule. Once inside he takes the lead, navigating a short hallway that opens up into a large circular space.

Wow. Mav redecorated, and holy shit is it stunning.

The once dingy club has been completely transformed. The level we’re standing on is a large circular ballroom with a massive crystal chandelier hanging over the center. Bodies pulse in rhythm with the music as an elaborate light show is timed to the beat. An oversized circular couch travels the length of the outside of the dance floor, where numerous people are situated, some in more compromising positions than others. A bar is positioned at the far-left side of the room, boasting floor-to-ceiling mirrors behind it, while a DJ platform is set up opposite on the right.

Glancing up, a balcony travels along the entire outside edge of the room, level with the chandelier. Based off my memory of the old layout and judging by how people approach and retreat from the railing, there’s an entire second floor that goes beyond what I can see from this level. At the very top, near the ceiling, I notice three large mirrors, though I’m willing to bet my life they’re one-way.

“He up there?” I shout to our new security friend, gesturing toward the glass above.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You gotta cut the ‘ma’am’ shit. I’m Jonsie.” I extend my hand out to him. He stares at me for a moment, as if quietly assessing me. “It’s a handshake, Jeeves. Not a marriage proposal.”

The corner of his mouth tics up with a single chuckle. Placing his hand in my own, he gives me a slight shake.

“And you are…” I wave my clutch in front of me as if to encourage a response.

“Logan,” he responds.

“Pleasure to meet you, Logan. Do you need to announce me before I go hand your boss his ass?”

This time Logan barks out a laugh, and I feel a slight swell of momentary pride that I cracked his surly exterior.

“No, ma’a—” I pin him with a warning glare that has him correcting himself. “No, Jonsie. You do not need to be announced. You have top security clearance.”

Daphne’s head, along with the rest of the girls’, snaps to Logan’s attention.

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