Page 171 of My Five Daddies

The driver starts going without saying a word to me. I get out my phone and send a quick message to Jackson. “I’m on theway.”

“I knew you would be. Hurryup.”

I smile to myself and tuck my phone back into my little clutch. I haven’t been out at a club after work since the first year I moved out here. I have butterflies in my stomach, which is totally unlike me. I’m not normally nervous for this sort ofthing.

But it’s Jackson. He makes me nervous, though it’s in a good way. I like being nervous around him. I like that he pushes me, makes me question the things around me. We’re not even close and yet he’s already making me feelgood.

The car finally pulls up outside of a club that I don’t recognize, which isn’t a surprise. I don’t really go out clubbing much. I did a little bit when I was younger, but now I’m more focused on my career and I just don’t have timeanymore.

My heart is beating so fast as I get out of the car. There’s a line to get in and I frown at it. There are probably fifty people waiting to get into the building, but as soon as I start to walk toward the back, I hear someone call out myname.

“Tara!”

I turn and spot Jackson grinning at me from behind the red velvet rope. I walk over and the bouncer lets me past. He grins at me and kisses my cheek, sending electric thrills down myspine.

“Glad you came,” hesays.

“Yeah, well, you said you needed myhelp.”

He grins at me. “I definitely need you. Come on.” He takes my hand and pulls me into the club behindhim.

I can’t help but notice that he said he needs me, not my help. And he’s pulling me along by the hand like it’s not a weird thing to do at all. I’m getting sucked back into his world, but it’s hard not to be. Jackson is the kind of guy that can make you feel like you’re at home no matter where youare.

The club itself is sleek and new. There’s a wine bar, a beer bar and a liquor bar, all broken out separately. The music pulses into my ears and I’m glad that I put on a sleek black dress instead of my normal drab workclothes.

Jackson pulls me along behind him and we end up at a private booth filled with people. I recognize them all from the set. There’s Paul the lighting guy, Jackson’s assistant Marney, Rick the gaffer, Louis the cameraman, and a few other guys. Everyone welcomes me when I arrive, and Jackson pours me a drink from their bottle service, but I can tell that everyone is a little uptight with mearound.

I slug back my first drink, trying to let everyone know that I’m okay and not a rat, but also trying to loosenup.

“Easy there,” Jackson grins at me as I pouranother.

“We’re here to have some fun, right?” I askhim.

“You’re not wrong.” He pours himself a drink and knocks it back. “But I’m guessing you’re not much of adrinker.”

“Why would you think that?” Iask.

“The face you’re making rightnow.”

I laugh and look down. “Is itobvious?”

“You clearly hate it. Like someone is stomping on yourtoes.”

“Ugh, okay, I’m trying atleast.”

“I know. I’m glad you’rehere.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Metoo.”

We fall into the booth and everyone starts talking again. I sip my drink and do my best to pretend like I don’t hate the taste of vodka. Paul tells a story from his days doing lighting for erectile dysfunction commercials, which gets a big laugh from everyone. Jackson meanwhile sits close to me and laughs along with everyone else, but I keep catching the looks he’s givingme.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed like this,” he says tome.

“Really?” I askhim.

“Really. You were a little more, uh, casual in highschool.”

I laugh and bump his arm with my shoulder. “I had great fashion sense backthen.”

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