The doorman flicks the pages and glides down the list of names, eventually grunting and unhooking the thick rope linking two metal posts together. ‘Champagne bar’s on the first floor at the back to your left. Mr White is in the VIP area there.’
‘Thank you.’ Gregory nods, pulling me forward and pushing me gently through the door. ‘VIP area,’ he whispers in my ear. ‘And you just called me Gregory, sassy lady.’
‘I can’t help it.’ I glance around, seeing various levels, all accessed by frosted-glass stairs with illuminated blue lights guiding the way. Well-dressed people are everywhere, draped over the glass balustrades, not a pint of beer or a bottle in sight . . . except champagne. Behind all of the bars – three I’ve seen so far – are stacks and stacks of champagne bottles. I’ve never tasted the stuff, but it looks like I might do soon.
‘This way.’ Gregory escorts me up the glass steps, and the practical side of me can’t help considering the damage that could be done if someone was to fall down them. My heels chink sweetly, though, and I look down and admire them, smiling and finding my butt swaying a little more. ‘Are you strutting?’ Gregory giggles and smacks my backside. ‘Work it, baby girl.’
I turn and scowl around my grin. ‘Sassy,’ I say, sticking my nose in the air, making my friend break out into a proper laugh.
‘You most certainly are.’
We reach the top of the stairs and head left as directed, reaching the champagne bar, which is ironic because all I saw at the other bars was champagne, too, making all of the bars champagne bars. ‘What would you like?’
‘Coke,’ I say casually, looking around to avoid meeting my friend’s outraged eyes.
He scoffs, but doesn’t retaliate, instead leaning over the bar and ordering two glasses of champagne. The club is crammed full already, and there were at least a few hundred people in the line outside. Gregory wasn’t kidding when he said it was dead plush, and the name reflects the ambience. If it wasn’t so full with people generating heat, I think I’d feel cold.
‘Thank you.’ I take the glass being handed to me and waft it under my nose, taking a hit of a bitter smell. The strawberry floating on top takes my attention away from the aroma that’s invading my nose and switches my mind to a place where I really don’t want it to go.
Strawberries – British, for the sweetness.
Chocolate – at least eighty per cent cocoa, for the bitterness.
Champagne to round it off.
I jump, a little startled when Gregory nudges me. ‘You okay?’
‘Sure.’ I bat the thoughts of sweet and bitter away, along with the thought of Miller’s hot tongue, slow-moving mouth, and hard, warm body. ‘Swanky place.’ I raise my glass a little and take the plunge, sipping my first ever taste of champagne. ‘Hmmm,’ I hum as the cool, sparkling liquid slides down my throat like silk.
‘I cannot believe you’ve never tasted it.’ Gregory shakes his head as he tips the glass to his lips. ‘Heaven in a glass.’
‘It is,’ I agree, swirling it in my hand. ‘So he put you on the guest list, then?’
‘Of course.’ He doesn’t bite to my teasing. ‘I’m not queuing like cattle.’
‘You’re a snob.’ I laugh. ‘Can I eat this strawberry?’
‘Yes, but don’t be plunging your fingers into the glass. Be a lady about it.’
‘How do I get it out, then?’ I frown down at the narrow glass, wondering if my fingers will even fit in, but not daring to find out.
‘Tip it in.’ Gregory demonstrates, tilting the flute to his lips and catching the strawberry in his mouth when it slides down the glass. ‘Best to wait until you’ve finished the champagne,’ he adds as he munches through the fruit.
‘You have a big mouth.’ I sip more, not prepared to hurry my way through. Not drinking for so long has undoubtedly made me a lightweight.
‘Oh, you have no idea, baby girl.’
My nose wrinkles in distaste. ‘And I don’t want to, Gregory,’ I retort, earning myself a grin through a glare.
‘It’s Greg!’
‘Sassy lady!’ I bump his thigh with my bum. ‘Where’s Benjamin, anyway?’ I ask, intrigued by the man who’s captured my Gregory so fully.
‘Ben is over there.’ He points discreetly with his glass, and I follow, looking through the crowd and seeing too many men to even begin to work it out. ‘Which one?’
‘In the VIP area. Black suit, fair hair.’
I flick my eyes over a crowd of men, all chatting in the closed-off section near to the bar, laughing and regularly slapping each other’s backs. City boys. Then my eyes land on a well-built man. I can literally see his muscles bulging through his suit. I’m surprised. He’s not my best friend’s usual taste, but again, it’s been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of meeting one of Gregory’s partners.
‘He’s . . . I try to figure out the right words to describe him. Colossal. Pumped. ‘Large,’ I finally settle on.
‘He’s a fitness freak.’
I look up and see Gregory with a small smile on his face as he gazes over to Ben. ‘So are you,’ I point out. Gregory’s physique isn’t anything to be ashamed of, not in the least, but Ben’s . . . well, he’s a mammoth of a fine man, but not to the point of being unattractive. I can see the appeal.
‘I’m an amateur in the gym compared to Ben. We’re talking every day, sassy lady.’