Page 10 of Wild Tonic
The sigh Clem let out didn’t seem to deter him and he placed his hand on her knee again. “For fuck’s sake, Byron, stop pawing me!”
The car lurched forward and Byron lost his grip, almost sliding to the floor. Clem met the gaze of the driver and he winked at her. She smiled back at him. At least someone had her back. Her phone vibrated with a message from the promoter, wanting an ETA from her. She fired back that they weren’t far. As she was about to put her phone back into her bag, she thought of something and messaged the promoter again, asking him to find Nate and take him to the VIP area. From what little she knew of him, she was sure that Vanilla wouldn’t be his usual hangout.
“Will you be able to make my next product launch party next week?” asked Finola.
The thought of hanging out with a bunch of gluten-free teetotallers didn’t fill Clem with joy. However, part of the deal withPretty Rich Thingswas to support the other cast members with their ventures and she knew that if Finola wore one of the Stelle D’Oro t-shirts for one of her social media videos, the sell-through would be immense. Dean would never forgive her if she didn’t go.
Clem made a big thing of looking at the calendar on her phone. “Yeah, looks like it will be fine. If you send me all the details, I’ll make sure I’m there.”
Finola beamed.
“Am I invited?” asked Byron.
As Finola’s eyes skimmed Byron’s body from head to toe, Clem stifled a giggle. He was the last person that would be welcome at a skincare launch party, with his puffy eyes and chubby, red cheeks; the results of eating and drinking too much in the name of ‘research’ for his restaurant.
“I’m not sure you’re the audience we’re going for with this product,” she said, her tone even.
Byron shrugged. “No probs. I’m guessing there won’t be much food there, anyway.”
The driver pulled the car up right outside the club and Clem could see there was still a relatively healthy queue out the front. She was never sure if that was usual or whether it was because they were there.
Byron clapped his hands together and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Let’s do this!”
Clem wiped his spittle off with the back of her hand and prayed that Nate would be there to rescue her.
Chapter Eight
The other people in the queue outside Vanilla nightclub didn’t seem to recognise him and Nate was grateful for that. One look at the clientele told him that this wasn’t his tribe and he pulled his leather jacket around him, trying to hide.
The conversation with Alik played on his mind. The two of them had been friends a long time and Nate couldn’t ever remember a time when they had been anything other than supportive of one another over their choice of women. He knew Edie Spencer-Newman fucked his best mate over, but he’d thought she was a one-off. How could he draw so many comparisons with someone he hadn’t even met? Putting it out of his thoughts for the time being, Nate thrust his hands in his pockets and wondered how much longer Clem would be.
One of the bouncers patrolled the waiting line, his gaze scanning for any trouble. Not that there seemed to be any, more impatience than anything else. It was freezing.
“Hey, you.” The bouncer stopped in front of him. “I need you to come with me.”
Nate saw heads swivel in his direction. “I haven’t done anything!” he protested.
“Just come with me.”
He lifted the rope and Nate stepped out, following the bouncer in the direction of the entrance.
“You’re Nate McKenna, right? You should have come to the VIP entrance. Ms Cameron left a ticket there for you.”
Ah, now it made sense. Silently, he thanked Clem for her foresight.
He entered the club and almost turned around and headed straight back out again. Talk about his total worst nightmare. Loud, pounding drum ’n’ bass invaded his ears and screaming, over-made-up women screeched at him as he went by. The VIP area was little less crowded, although the music wasn’t any quieter, or better. As he scanned the crowd for any sign of Clem, he felt every one of his twenty-nine years.
“Hey, sexy, want a drink?” a voice purred in his ear.
He spun around, ready to dismiss the woman making a move. Instead, Clem stood in front of him, a glass of champagne in each hand. She looked stunning and his cock twitched in response. Dressed in tight black leather trousers and a silky duck egg blue shirt, slashed in a deep v to her waist, he wondered how she was keeping her decency. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a sleek, high ponytail and her make-up was flawless. It took all of his willpower not to sweep her into his arms and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.
A red-cheeked man he vaguely recognised pushed between them and thrust a hand in Nate’s direction. “I’m Byron Thom, restauranteur. And you are?”
“Seriously, Byron, I’m talking.” Clem shoved him out of the way and gave Nate one of the glasses. “This is Nate. He’s come along tonight to stop you from getting your sticky little hands all over me.”
Byron cocked an eyebrow. “Is he going to be getting his sticky little hands all over you instead?”
Nate didn’t have chance to say anything as Clem launched the contents of her glass into Byron’s face. He almost laughed but seeing the furious expression on her face stopped him. Her feistiness was making the urge to kiss her grow stronger with every moment.
