Impressing the Clients

4

I made my way to the bar and sat on the available chair. I waved at the bartender and ordered one glass of whiskey on the rocks to calm myself from all the dancing caused by the vodka. I reached down my clutch to get some cash but just as I hand the bartender my payment, a man behind me spoke, "put it on my tab, Tom." The bartender nodded and gave my cash back.

I turn my head to the show-off who had the sexiest deep voice and my breath hitched. Wow.

A fine suited man. Subtle beard around his perfectly chiseled jaw, hair perfectly messed up, mesmerizing hazel eyes, lips so lush. He's towering over me, maybe around 6'7". His suit perfectly fit his obviously sculpted body.

Before I embarrassed myself, I looked away and told him, "I can pay for my own drinks, you know." He chuckled, took a seat beside me facing the dance floor and his elbows laying on the counter bar, "I know. But I wanted to pay for it," he sipped his liquor. I chose not to respond and tend to my drink.

"I see you want your drink strong," he said now looking at me while I drank.

I knew where this was going so I blurted out, "and I see you do this a lot, keeping your tab open for girls who can't pay for their drinks. Good opening line."

He laughed. Fuck, what a sexy laugh. I can just close my eyes and listen to it while I touch myself.

Paula, stop! What the fuck was wrong with you?!

He spoke up, "you got me. Most of them happily accept what I give them." Sensing the dirty meaning behind it, "they must be really drunk or really dumb," I smiled sarcastically at him.

He laughed even harder, "well, you can't blame them. I don't disappoint." He looked at me hungrily, checking me out. Oh, fuck me.

Okay that's it, as much as I am flattered with the attention, I have to distance myself from trouble. Which clearly, he is.

I stood up, "well, good for you. Thanks for the drink but I have to go back to my friends. Keep your tab open, I might come back to get some more drinks." I left him without giving him a second glance and made sure to disappear into the crowd before I return back to our couch.

Wow, that was so intense. And so hot. This is not good.

Kyle and the guy are now tongue to tongue knowing each other well and Jackie is nowhere to be found.

Good thing they left me some shots. I drank to myself, slightly bouncing to the beat of music staying seated. My feet are too sore now to dance.

A little later, a man in all black suit came up to me and told me that the owner wanted to see me. But when I asked him why and who, he chose not to answer. He just insisted that I should heed the owner's request.

I started to get irritated, "tell your boss to stop being a buzzkill. I am here in this club to enjoy and get drunk. Not for a meeting."

The man tried to reason, "but ma'am, it'll just be a moment, it won't take up—"

I put a finger to his lips and shushed him, "you are not listening, honey. I am here to drink. Not. Talk. Not. Even. For. A. Moment. Got it? Now, fuck off." I waved my hand away.

I went back to drinking. At this point, Kyle unlatched his mouth from the guy and asked me what's the matter.

As I was telling him what happened, the show-off man from the bar showed up and sat beside me. Shocked, I asked, "what are you doing here? This is not your couch." He looked pissed and told me, "Technically, I own this couch because I own this place."

Ahh, so he's the buzzkill owner. Made sense.

I fake smiled at him, "I don't care. We paid for this space to be ours. We're not sharing this space with anyone, not even the owner."

Oh no, he looked so pissed at what I said. He sips his drink, "not going anywhere," he mumbled.

Wow, now I am pissed.

"Look, clearly many other girls would love to be your company for tonight. Can't you just choose one of them and stop flying around our shit like a fly?" I talked back at him.

Oh damn, this cannot be good. He looked at me with so much anger, "I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere."

I was about to answer back but I was cut off by Kyle, "okay! No one's going anywhere, end of discussion. Let's just chill the fuck out and drink." I widened my eyes at him clearly shocked to let this delicious strange man stay with us.

"Fine by me," the show-off relaxed. "Get me a bottle of whatever they are having from the bar," he ordered his man in suit. Not looking at him or saying a word. He took the initiative, he cleared his throat and introduced himself, "Let's start over to a more friendly approach. I'm Marco, you are?" I stared at him confused.

Bipolar motherfucker. One second ago, he was so angry, now he's being friendly?

Kyle, sensing I won't answer back, reached out a hand to him and answered, "I'm Kyle, this is Paula, nice to meet you." He looked at me and repeated my name, "Paula."

Boy, I'm in trouble.

Our drinks arrived, as pissed as I am at this fucking beautiful man, I guess I can be a little bit nice since my ass-friend invited him to stay with us. Can't say no to free drinks.

They were talking as I zoned out. Feeling the numbness rush through me, I was clearly drunk.

"Paula!" Kyle shouted, "so what do you say? We want to play a drinking game!"

***