Hudson(20)

“I own nightclubs in other cities.” I have one in Atlantic City. Another in Miami and two in Vegas. This won’t be my first venture into the industry, and as the current owner has assured me, the staff at The Sky Launch is self-sufficient. Whatever happens with Celia, I plan to have Alayna groomed to take over as general manager as soon as possible. Once that takes place, my involvement at the club will be minimal.

“Let me rephrase, why are you so interested in this night club? I could get some people looking, and we could find something else local that’s going to take less of your time and be more profitable.”

I dodge the suggestion. “How’s your family?”

“I love how you think changing the subject will distract me from pursuing this. I’ll make you pay by actually answering your question. My brother’s home now. I wish I could say fully recovered, but that will take time.”

Norma’s brother had a breakdown recently and had been admitted to a mental hospital. While I normally try not to get involved with my employees’ private lives, Norma had explained the situation so that she could get some emergent time off.

“He’ll get there,” I assure her.

“I know he will. And Gwen’s still at Eighty-Eighth Floor.” Her brows lift with an idea. “Now that’s a nightclub you should look into buying.”

She’s not going to let it go until I give her a more satisfactory reason for wanting Alayna’s club. “There’s asset in The Sky Launch I can’t get elsewhere.” It feels wrong to refer to Alayna as an asset, though, legitimately, she is. “A star employee. I peg her as an up-and-comer in management and I want to be her employer when that happens.”

Norma considers for a few seconds. Then she sighs. “I can’t decide if you’re being honest or blowing smoke up my ass. Whichever, you win. I’ll stop giving you my two cents.”

“You’re one of the four most important people in my life other than my family. I value your opinion.” Though I’m grateful that she’s dropping this issue, I usually do appreciate her input.

“Really?” She leans forward, her elbows braced on her desk. “Who are the other three?”

I reply without missing a beat. “My secretary, my assistant, and my unofficial head of security.” That’s as good a title for Jordan as anything.

Norma frowns. “Isn’t it sad that they’re all on your payroll?”

“It’s not sad. It’s the way I like it.” I brush invisible lint from my pant leg, not meeting her eyes. I don’t find my relationships sad. I’m content. But is that how I want to live the rest of my days? Merely content?

Her frown remains. “Did I see Celia Werner here the other day?”

I don’t like Norma’s concern about my social life or lack thereof. It gives her an excuse to play matchmaker and I’m not interested in that at all. So I let her believe what she wants about Celia. It’s easier. “Yes, she was here.”

“You’re not redecorating anything right now, are you?”

I don’t answer, but my expression tells her that I’m not. It’s the only work-related reason that Celia would be around—if she were handling a redesign of one of the offices.

Norma assumes as I guessed she would. “As much as I’m happy to see you with a woman in your life, I really wish it wasn’t her.”

Now that’s what’s sad—that Celia is the woman in my life. That my past has tied me to the person who I despise and look down on more than anyone…other than myself.

I stand, unwilling to continue the conversation. “Thank you for your help, Norma.”

I leave quickly, as if by escaping the discussion I could escape the reality that the discussion centered on. But there’s no escape from this reality. I’ve made my bed. Time to lie.

***

It’s near ten that evening when I pull my car into the lot at Columbus Circle. My grip tightens around the steering wheel. I clutch on, pouring all my aggression into my grasp. Then I let go. The action helps center me. I’m anxious and I need to burn off some tension.

Really what I need is to go home and run a few miles on the treadmill. But I’m here already. So I get out of my Maybach and head toward the front doors of the club.

I’ve been to The Sky Launch twice before now. Both times were during the day, once with the seller and another time with my appraiser. I’ve never seen it in operation nor have I met any of the employees. Before I do, I want the opportunity to observe them in their environment.

That’s my excuse for this visit. It’s bullshit. I want to observe Alayna in her environment. I don’t give a f**k about anyone else. The schedule posted to the wall in the staff room indicated that she was taking the next week off. Tomorrow is her graduation, so I assume she’s using the time to celebrate. Tonight is my only chance to see her at work. When she returns, the transfer of ownership will be complete, and I will be her boss.

It’s a weeknight and not yet summer, but there’s a line outside the club. I manage to get in quickly—an expensive Armani suit is an automatic ticket into most anywhere. Inside, I spend a few minutes surveying the dance floor. The DJ is good and the layout works well. I glance up at the bubble rooms that circle the second floor. They’re the highlight of the club. With a little emphasis, they’d draw an even bigger crowd. In fact, it’s not hard to imagine how well the place could do with a few tweaks.