Page 12 of The Billionaire Babe

But she is right. Maybe I need to go out, dance away this funk, and, if nothing else, prove the gossip hounds that everything is alright with Valerie Van Cleef. Even though inside I am crumbling.

6

AJ

Brady and I make our rounds throughout the club. The crowd tonight is noticeably bigger than last week. Maybe Jimmy was right; this Valerie Van Cleef woman does make a difference.

“We just need Jimmy to pay us, and then we should be okay for the next couple of weeks,” Brady says to me as we take stock of the club.

“I need to win this fucking fight,” I growl, feeling stressed. Brady, Cody, and I went through our financials earlier today. It’s still too tight. We are surviving from job to job, the money not stretching as far as we need it to. We just need a little wriggle room to allow us to hire more guys to pitch for more clients. Without the men, we can’t service new clients, and without new clients, we can’t pay for more men. The cycle is a hard one to break and the thought of how we might succeed keeps me up at night.

“You will. That will give us some breathing room until we can pick up some new clients. We are on the cusp of something big. I can feel it,” Brady says, and I shake my head.

“We need more than a fucking feeling, Brady. We need cash. We need new clients. What about that small shopping mall on the other side of town?” I ask him, and he gives me a look that tells me I’m not going to like his answer.

“I went over there last week, chatted to the management team. They are locked in with the security company they have for at least the next six months and not looking at changing.” I sigh, remembering we have already spoken about this.

“AJ!” Jimmy yells for me, and I leave Brady to it, heading over to the main bar where Jimmy is currently perched, having a drink.

“All good, Jimmy?” I ask, because he is fidgeting, appearing to be on edge. I can feel it.

“She is coming back tonight,” he says, his eyes piercing mine. And I know exactly who he is talking about. Fuck. I clench my jaw. This was not what I was expecting.

“Seriously?” After I threw her out last week, she must have balls of steel to come back here.

“Her and her friends will be in the VIP lounge. Ensure you and your team don’t fuck it up this time.” That’s my warning before he throws back his whiskey and stalks away.

“Got it,” I murmur, mostly to myself, rubbing my jaw. We are a few men down tonight; otherwise, I would take off and leave Brady and Cody to manage on their own. The crowd is also much bigger than we have ever had before so there is no chance of any of us not being front and center. I stalk to the front of the club to monitor the door, seeing everyone in place and nodding to Cody, where he stands at the beginning of the line, assessing everyone who wants to come in.

“Excuse me?” a small woman says from the corner, and I look at her.

“Line is over there,” I say, nodding to the far right.

“Oh, I’m not coming in, but I wanted to talk to you.” I remain quiet. “I’m Rena from Society News. I wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“No,” I say, keeping my eyes on the line. I had no idea that Society News even existed before this week, Jimmy highlighting it all to us boys, happy to see his club and Valerie’s face together, even if it did paint her in a terrible light.

“I can pay. One hundred bucks if you can confirm you kicked out Valerie Van Cleef last week,” she asks, and my body jolts. What the fuck did she just say?

“Step away from the security team, or you will be escorted down the street,” I say firmly.

“Okay, two hundred bucks for a direct quote about her that I can use in a story tomorrow. Was she drunk?” She pushes again, and I unfurl my hands from where they are crossed at my chest and stand tall.

“I will call the police if you don’t remove yourself from this side of the street in the next thirty seconds,” I say in a growl, my teeth clenched.

“Oh. Shit, okay. No problem.” Quickly putting her hands up in surrender, she walks away backward, realizing she has overstepped. I watch her run to the other side of the street to a small late-night diner and go inside, positioning herself on a stool in the window, watching who is coming and going. No doubt with her cell phone at the ready.

It’s dark, almost eleven, and the night is cool, with a nice crispness to the air. It’s refreshing after being inside all night. I should go back inside. I should be walking around the dance floor perimeter, but I don’t want to leave.

I pace out in front of the club, monitoring the team who all look at me like it is odd that I am out here. Because it is. I watch each car as it pulls up to the curb. We have had a lot of people coming in tonight. The line for the door is the longest it has ever been. There are more glamorous women than we have ever had before stepping through our ropes, yet not the one I want to see.

Jimmy was right. The gossip that Valerie Van Cleef was here last week has obviously spread. I have read that small article more times than I would ever admit. Valerie Van Cleef is indeed one of the richest women in the city, all due to being an heir of Rose Van Cleef. From what I read, Rose was a ruthless woman who somehow built the family fortune that Valerie’s father now runs. But that wasn’t the most shocking thing in the article. It was the fact that Valerie is single and has been for some time. That is a thought that I have been ruminating on all week, how a woman who is rich, sexy as fuck, polite, and sassy is single. There must be something else wrong with her.

I look at the street and I know it is her from the moment the car pulls up. The sleek black design of the Mercedes G-Wagon, almost comically expensive on this side of town. She steps out, her long sun-kissed legs first, and my eyes feast on the sight. Waiting on the rest of her, she slides out of the black leather interior like only a well-to-do woman can in those come-fuck-me heels she is wearing, the sparkly gold straps matching a short glittery gold dress that almost has my knees buckling.

“Fuck me,” Tommy, one of my new guys, says from in front of me.

“Eyes off her and onto the job,” I growl, not sure where my possessiveness is coming from. But I stand even taller where I am in the shadows, letting my eyes trail up her body and to her face. Her smile is wide, but I see the slightly unsure look in her eye. Especially when flashes go off from people's cells, including a few photogs that have appeared.

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