Page 28 of Keep Him Like Secrets

“Why not?”

“There are too many tables. True VIPs—the kind who aren’t going to hesitate to drop ten grand in drinks for their friends—are going to want to feel like they’re getting something truly exclusive.”

That made a certain kind of sense, I guess.

“How many are you thinking? Four?”

“Three. The balcony isn’t that big, and we don’t want to have to turn away someone’s entourage because the other tables have put the area at its max.”

I didn’t expect him to have such in-depth answers right on the spot. It was kind of hot when a man was just… really knowledgeable about something. I mean, I’d once had a three-day fling with a guy who’d talked for an hour about the building of some cathedral in Europe somewhere. It wasn’t even the topic that got me; it had been his passion and confident expertise in the area.

And Soren, he was definitely passionate and proficient in the topic of clubs. Even if, outwardly, nothing about him suggested he was a club kind of guy.

“Why did you get into nightclubs?” I asked as Soren refilled my glass. He hadn’t even touched his own. “Were you a big club-goer when you were younger?”

“Not at all, no. Honestly, I was hungry to make a name for myself as quickly as possible. And, I won’t lie, as much money as possible. I had a little cash to invest. And my research said that while nightclubs—like restaurants—have a high failure rate, they also allow you to make a lot of money relatively quickly. Since new clubs bring in a lot of traffic right away.”

“Was your first club a success?”

“God no. It was a huge failure,” he admitted with a self-deprecating head shake. “I was just a partner on that venture. It was the other guy’s vision and plans. And they weren’t good. That said, when it had been open for two months, I offered to give him back my portion of the club. He was still naive enough to think he’d have long-term success, so he agreed. I had my initial investment back, plus almost half. I used that to invest in another club. So on and so forth.”

“Did that club fail?”

“Miserably. Within two years, he’d leveraged his house to keep it going. But was still at risk of losing both.”

“That sucks.”

“Eh. I bought him out,” I said, shrugging. “He got to go home and lick his wounds. I got to turn the club into what I knew it could have been all along. It’s still going strong a decade later. It’s had a few facelifts and a name change over the years, but it keeps going strong. That one has a lot of sentimental value.”

“What’s it called?” I suddenly had a need to go home, go online, and find out everything I could about it.

“The original club—under the old owner—was The Vaulted Room. When I opened, I did it without theThe. Now, it’s simply The Vault.”

I committed that to memory as I had another sip of the champagne, deciding that I was maybe a champagne girl after all. The bubbles were kind of fun, tickling my face as I drank, dancing on my tongue…

Uh oh.

I was already a little tipsy.

“You okay?” Soren asked.

“Yep,” I said, popping thep. “Where’s the bathroom around here?” I asked.

Soren lifted a hand and pointed halfway down the club.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, sliding out of the booth, feeling a rush of cool air over me when I wasn’t so cozied up with him.

I wobbled on my heels a bit as I tried to move through the crush of the crowd, getting stopped twice by men who wanted to dance.

“Fuck off.” It was my usual refrain. And depending on the guy, it was either met with shocked embarrassment or egotistical outrage. Neither of them would make me spare them another second of my life.

I made it to the bathroom without having to wait in a line, going inside to wet a paper towel and wiping the back of my neck, chest, and cheeks with it.

“Girl, I’d need a cool shower if I were on a date with a man like that too,” the girl washing her hands beside me said, all glittery red hair and matching eyeshadow.

“He’s not my date. We’re business partners.”

“Yeah? Never had a business partner of mine look at me like that.”

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