The day passed by on a breeze. After bagels, lunch, and a movie the girls got ready for a night on the town. Sylvia, always the show stopper, wore barely any clothing. Her mini dress should barely register as legal. It was a micromini of pure red. It was like a call for a real good red-light special and Anya couldn’t help but envy her friend. Sylvia was a vixen, through and through, and was comfortable with her body in a way that most women would find disconcerting. Sylvia was comfortable with the spotlight. Sometimes Anya wondered if there was something in her past that made her act way that she did. Was there some failed relationship or traumatic event that had made Sylvia the woman she was today. Other times Anya felt like that was just how Sylvia was and no one, or nothing, could take credit for making her that way. At least that was what Sylvia would say all of the time whenever Anya got up the nerve to ask. That same do what she wanted attitude has assisted her in convincing Anya to dress much more risqué than she normally would. She looked at herself in the mirror, barely able to recognize herself. She wore a high-wasted pair of black skinny leg pants with suspenders, high white stiletto heels, and a white blouse with a deep cleavage where the shirt had no buttons until after her breasts. So it wasn’t show-off city but for her it was revealing enough.


“Oh don’t start! You’re going to wear that and you don’t have another choice.”

“You could at least find me a shirt that is less revealing.”

“Anya you look amazing in it. You’ve got a great rack, might as well enjoy it.” Anya chuckled as she shook her head at her friend. Only Sylvia.

“Well we can go, before I lose my nerve.”

The car ride was a short one. They reached downtown in no time, despite it being a Saturday night when most people would be going out. A red neon light told her they had arrive at Silk, the exclusive club that had opened up five years before and became the place to be for the movers and shakers of Houston. It was a large building, almost like a massive warehouse, that was painted a black that stood out like lacquer. A line was wrapped around one corner of the building filled with people dressed to impress. Anya was surprised to see that. With a club this exclusive she wouldn’t think there would be anyone waiting but when a car pulled up to the valet and a known singer stepped out and the crowd went wild Anya figured that was the reason. Some people would do anything to meet someone the admired or attempt to get a chance to get inside. Anya, though, was not looking forward to waiting in the line.

“Please don’t tell me we have to wait in that,” she said to Sylvia then.

“Of course not,” Sylvia sang as they pulled up to the valet. Sylvia flashed her invitation card and the man had her keys in hand, had escorted them to the bouncer at the front door, and had driven away in no time.

“Well,” Anya approved.

“This is my kind of place,” Sylvia returned. The bouncer at the front looked like some professional wrestler that had enough muscles that he shouldn’t have been able to move. He gaze was steady on them as he looked them over. His heavy brow creased as he inhaled deeply and his blue eyes narrowed. His eyes shifted to Sylvia then with a predatory gleam and he smiled, showing perfect white teeth. With his long brown hair tied at the nape of his neck she then revised her initial impression of a wrestler to a spy and then laughed at her own mind.

“Such lovely ladies,” the man fairly growled as his eyes roamed over Sylvia slowly once more. Sylvia shifted and Anya rolled her eyes when she recognized her friend slipping into flirt mode. She pushed her chest out, hitched her hip, and then licked her lips, slowly. The bouncer watched every motion.

“Why thank you. My invitation,” Sylvia whispered seductively and Anya swore she could see the man swallow. He took the card from Sylvia, fingers brushing hers not so subtly and Anya forced herself not to gag. The man looked down at the invitation and then his expression changed from ready to try to take Sylvia to bed to consummate usher.

“Right this way Ms. Tate. Mr. Meeks said to take very good care of you.”

“How I love a man who knows how to take care of a woman right.” Sylvia said as she and Anya followed the man after he signaled to another man to take his place. All light that had been outside and vanished once they got inside and Anya took a second to adjust. The inside was as dark as the outside. Scarlet couches and tables with gold accents dotted the edges of the massive floor. Surrounding a dance floor were tables and chairs where people sat with waitresses walking around. On each wall was a bar long enough for four bartenders to be taking orders. The heavy sound of reggae pulsed as people crowded around. This was no country club. This was where the rich could dance and enjoy themselves under darkness. Anya had to admit that she loved the digs. It was positively decadent.
After a few moments they left the main room and were led to what she thought was a wall. They stopped as the bounce pushed on the wall and a silent door slid open. They followed him further inside and up a stair well. Once they got to the top the could see the entire club through a large glass window. The music was dimmer here but she could still feel the bass.

“Your accommodations. Please enjoy yourself.” The bouncer backed out and Sylvia nodded as if it were her due. She then turned and surveyed the others in the VIP section. Anya knew she would be looking for the next man to play with. Sylvia has learned a long time ago that men are playthings. She gets what she wants, when she wants and doesn’t apologize for it. A day trader she has plenty of time, and money, to enjoy the fruits of her labor. she never lets a man come close and doesn’t care one twit what anyone thinks of her. Anya had always been a little more of the wallflower. It’s not that she is not secure in confident in herself, her upbringing just makes her more conservative. It’s just the way she is.

“One of your admires is really well off,” Anya said then.

“Obviously and he wouldn’t go through all of this to not be here.”

“Mr. Meeks I gather.”

“Walker is good fun. He’s been my accountant for years but he’s not ordinary accountant. He has some pretty exclusive clients that pay him generously to take care of them.”

“So he’s the admirer?”

“I doubt it. Walker is, well Walker is complicated.”

“Complicated?” Anya liked the sound of that. The world would stand still to find out that Sylvia had a man who could stop her in her tracks.

“Not like that. We’re really close actually. He connects me.”

“Ah, I get it. He sets you up with your sugar daddies.”

“Yes, except they aren’t sugar daddies so to speak. I make enough to more than take care of myself.”

“Oh I know you do. Wish I could.”

“You could but you choose not to. I know dancing is your passion but you could do what you are doing now and still have a career. It could always be a hobby.”

“Passions aren’t meant for hobbies.”

“Then don’t wish you made more. Be happy with what you have.”

“You’re right Sylvia,” Anya laughed, used to the argument. Sylvia had even taken the time to teach her how to trade at one time and had told her that she did a pretty good job. Anya had more skills than just dancing. She’d double majored at college and her secondary degree was in computer science. It was something she had done in the off-chance that her career never took off. It was not meant to be the bread and butter of her existence. Sylvia already knew this story but took it upon herself every once in a while to test Anya’s resolve. So tested Anya turned her attention back to the club surrounding club. The lights flashed, the music moved her, and she found herself more interested in getting on the dance floor than wanted to mingle.

“I want to go on the floor.”

“Drink first, and then we can dance.” Sylvia signaled for a waitress and then asked for two Buttery Nipples. Anya had laughed at the name when she’d first heard it but was hooked after she tasted it. They got their drinks and tossed them back.

“Another around?”

“I’m for it.” Anya told the waitress to bring another two rounds just for good measure. They drank those down quickly and when Anya went to pay the waitress shook her head.

“All inclusive in the VIP. Enjoy your night.”

“I think I like Walker even more,” Anya said.

“Yeah he’s alright. Let’s go,” Sylvia said and they left the VIP area, sure they could get back in and went straight for the floor.
The alcohol soothed Anya and she swayed to the beat. She’d always loved Million Stylez and was surprised to hear him being played in this club. Every minute here and she swore she didn’t want to leave. Her hips gyrated, her body swayed, and she let the sound of dancehall free her. She always felt like this when she dance. Sylvia, not to be outdone, stood with her back to Anya as they shimmied to the floor and back up again. Anya didn’t know how she did that without flashing the club but then she really didn’t care. Some other people may look at Sylvia negatively but Anya loved her friend to distraction. The woman could be the life of a party and she usually allowed Anya to let go of her own inhibitions.

“Move it girl,” Sylvia laughed and Anya twisted around to snake her body down Sylvia and then back up. Anya was satisfied when a very real strong pair of male hands formed her waist and a rock hard body whined with her to the floor. How she loved a man who could dance. She turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. His piecing green eyes were warm in his lightly tanned face. His blond hair fell rakishly over one eye and she pushed it out of the way as she moved against him.

“Damn you’re hot,” he whispered into her ear and she frowned. He was attractive, there was no denying that, but she didn’t feel her buttons being pushed. She shook her head and continued to dance. She was not going to let anything intrude on her fun. She heard Sylvia laughing and saw that a man had sidled up behind her. The women moved together as one, in a practiced move, and lay their heads on each others shoulders for balance as they snaked down to the floor again. Anya’s eyes closed in laughter. She opened her eyes, prepared to turn around and wink and everything in her froze. There, in front of her, and in black on black suit she was sure cost more than six months of her salary was Mr. Walters and he was looking right at her, and he didn’t look happy.


“Shit,” he cursed and the air filled with a growl.

Subscribe and receive a FREE copy of Caesar's Gift!

Join the newsletter and be the first to know about new releases and other book-related news. 

Thank you for subscribing!