“Bonsoir,” he replies politely.
My arm is linked through Jack’s, and before we go in, his eyes rake up and down my body. I wait for him to take the lead and walk through the doors, but he hesitates, staring at me instead.
“I forgot to tell you how beautiful you look in that dress,” he says so kindly it takes my breath away.
“Thank you,” I whisper, unable to move as the warmth of his compliment covers me like a cozy blanket. It’s not just that he thinks I’m beautiful or wants me to know how much he admires me, it’s that Jack truly sees me. He treasures me. With him, I no longer feel alone.
What has happened to the man I first met? Am I naive to assume I’ve somehow changed him? Is it foolish of me to hope that he stays this way forever?
“Shall we?” he asks, and I silently nod.
Then he leads me inside.
Rule #38: It was never about sex.
Camille
The club is nothing like it was before. There’s a heavy beat of music overhead that’s slow and sultry, giving the place a sense of rich opulence.
As Jack moves through the club with me on his arm, I scan my surroundings, just trying to take it all in. It’s odd how much it feels like I don’t belong here, and yet the club feels like a warm hug.
The staff is kind, smiling at me as they welcome me in and hand me a glass of champagne. The scent in the room is floral, like fresh linens covered in roses. And there are no dark, ominous corners that would make someone feel vulnerable. Everything is open, giving this floor of the club a friendly vibe.
“What do you think?” he murmurs next to me.
I turn toward him with my lips pressed together in a tight smile. “Jack, it’s perfect.”
A gray-haired man approaches us with a beaming smile. “Jack!” he calls as he puts a hand out for him.
Jack releases my arm and shakes the man’s hand with apprehension. “Matis,” he replies nervously.
“You did it,” the man celebrates. “Look at this place!”
“It’s too soon to call it a success. Let’s see how our first quarter numbers look,” Jack answers with a wrinkle between his brows.
The man scoffs loudly before putting an arm around Jack’s shoulders. “Stop worrying about the numbers and look around. People are here. They look happy and comfortable. That’s all you need to worry about. Fuck the data, Jack. This is how you tell your club is a success.”
Jack doesn’t look convinced, but he tries to at least nod for the man.
Matis notices me standing at Jack’s side. With a charming grin, he quickly releases him and puts out a hand for me to take.
“My goodness. Who is this angel?” he asks as he lifts my hand to his lips.
I can barely make out Jack’s low, growling hum as he tugs me against his side. “Matis, this is Camille Aubert, my date.”
Matis notices immediately, releasing my hand with a wolfish smile and a wink before stepping away. “Message received.”
I can’t help but smile because the man is just so dashing. I would guess he’s in his midfifties, but I certainly wouldn’t kick him out of bed. He’s incredibly handsome with salt-and-pepper hair and wrinkles around his wide smile carved into his bronze skin.
“Camille, this is Matis Moreau. He owned this club for thirty years before passing it down to us,” Jack says as he holds me with a possessive grip on my waist.
“I have known Jack since he was a boy,” Matis says jovially as he shakes Jack’s shoulder.
I glance up at Jack and notice the blush on his cheeks. “How are things downstairs?” he asks to change the subject.
“Go see for yourself,” Matis replies, gesturing toward the elevator. “You might recognize a few special guests.”
Jack narrows his eyes at the man before pulling me toward the elevators. We leave Matis behind as we make our way to the lower level. I can tell that Jack is nervous as the doors close, shutting us inside alone. As it moves, I turn toward him and stroke his cheek.