Page 66 of The Winslow Brothers

I consider her words closely as I watch Thatcher Kelly schmooze a dozen and a half businessmen at once. They all look at him like he’s a god, and for all I know, maybe he is. The point is, he doesn’t cower under the pressure—he revels in it.

Maybe Julie’s right.

Maybe I do give up too quickly.

Memories of Jude’s head between my legs make me feel light-headed, and I stumble to the side, my heart racing so fast it’s liable to be in my throat soon.

I envision the picture of him in the paper, smiling for the camera like he’s larger-than-life, and I recount the headline of the article and the reason for its placement there.

Club Promoter Jude Winslow Brings Fresh Fun Back to Manhattan.

The private marketing event for elite private event specialists.

Elite Private Event Specialists.That’s me. I am one of those.

“Julie, does your cousin still work on the advisory board for the Event Planners Association?”

She cocks her head to the side. “Yeah. Why?”

“There’s an event at Club Craze this weekend. And I want into it. But I’m pretty sure you have to know someone to get in there.”

“Oh, yes! I heard about this. By invitation only or some shit.” She rolls her eyes. “Like they really know who to invite.”

“Do you think your cousin could get me one?”

She shrugs. “I’m not sure. But I could definitely find out if you want—”

“Find out,” I say quickly, unable to stop myself from interrupting. “Just one day out of the two will be fine. Just get me in there.”

“You got it, boss.”

God help me, but I’m going out on a limb. I just hope it’s strong enough to hold the weight of my expectations.

Friday, March 9th

Jude

“You got a minute?” I ask Ki-Ki, stepping up onto her platform as she’s cueing up her laptop and taking out all her extra equipment. Her cute pixie nose practically twitches with excitement, and I automatically grin while she nods.

I’ve never actually met anyone as happy as she is, and I’m pretty sure it’s because her parents did some sort of crossbreeding experiment with a unicorn or that Disney fairy with the tight green dress.

“I just want to go over a couple things before I do the meeting with the rest of the staff, if that’s cool.”

“You bet,” she agrees. “I’ve got a pretty standard playlist, but I can easily mix something up if you’ve got a different request.”

“No, no,” I say with a shake of my head. Ki-Ki is definitely the expert in the music department. It’s not that I don’t listen to music per se, because I do, but I’m not the guy who knows the name of every song and artist. I just vibe to whatever I vibe with at the time, be it country or rap or hip-hop or alternative or whatever. I am a musical chameleon. “I trust your style. I just wanted to talk about volume levels, really. Tonight isa little different from our normal heavy hit, you know? Early on, we need to meter the volume down so that conversation is discernible.”

She nods and gives me a thumbs-up, flicking her wrist on her soundboard and then clicking a couple of keys on her laptop. Immediately, a smooth beat picks up at probably half our normal volume.

It’s mood-influencing—in a good way, of course—but not overpowering. “That’s perfect, Keeks.”

She smiles huge and clicks off the beat. “So, I’ll just run this for the first hour or two, and then as the atmosphere picks up, so will the volume. Cool?”

I lean forward and place a quick peck on her cheek, making her giggle. Our relationship is platonic in every way, but we just get along. I like seeing her happy, and she feels the same.

“They say you’re the best for a reason,” I continue with a wink, climbing down from the platform and taking off for the kitchen staff. We’ve got two extra waitresses tonight, all because we’ve taken on the task of adding food. On normal nights, we don’t bother trying to accommodate anything other than fluids, but on the private side, we’re all about catering to a client’s every whim.

That, of course, means we have to show the people who are most likely to bring the clients here that we have the capability.

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