Deeper (The Deeper Chronicles #1) (4 page)

T
he car came to a smooth stop.

In less than a minute, Zach was opening the back door for Noah. The familiar New York City smell invaded Noah’s nostrils, and it was a welcoming scent.

It was
his
city’s aroma.

A mixture of exhaust fumes, recklessness, and restless excitement. To his left, he was pleased with the long line of patrons. Above his head were the words: Club Envy. He passed by Tim, the night’s security personnel, with a nod of acknowledgment. He walked with confidence down the corridor and was pleased when he heard the heavy bass pulsating the walls.

Noah took pride in the esthetics of his establishment. He spared no cost. If it was unique, he got it. He flew in one-of-a-kind Russian tiles that some would say cost too much and was over the top. When others told him to watch the bottom dollar, he dug deeper into his pockets to get the best. As he walked farther into his club, the glare from the mother of pearl, diamonds, abalone shells, and black onyx stones in the tiles caught his attention.

Noah gave himself a small opportunity to appreciate their intricate beauty, which brought a pleased grin to his lips. The tiles, the furnishings, the menu, everything about the nightclub evoked a feeling of luxury and exclusivity, which were the two things the type of people his club catered to were used to, demanded, and enjoyed. The people who whisked by him toward the dance floor in their Louboutins and Ferragamos knew the meaning of LuxTouch tiles and carried around American Express elite Black Cards.

They were the city’s prettiest young socialites, heirs, multi-millionaires who spent big to have a good time. Their last names were some of the most influential in New York and abroad. They also had habits—expensive and discriminatory habits—to which Noah catered. Club Envy was for beautiful people with beautiful needs.

Voices clamored for his attention, none of which he answered. His long legs took him up the stairs leading to the quieter VIP lounge. He sat in his spot in the far corner in a red leather seat. He nodded in the bartender’s direction, silently ordering his drink of choice: a whiskey sour.

Avi shook her head at the line of partygoers.

She had very few dislikes, but waiting in lines now topped the list. For reasons she still didn’t understand, club owners liked to keep their customers waiting. Back when she was eighteen and away from her mother’s overprotective gaze, Avi never minded the lines. Her love for dancing and the freedom her freshman year at Florida State University offered had Avi queuing up with glee every chance she had.

Stellar grades in high school had earned her a full four-year scholarship to any college of her choice in Florida. She’d picked the one farthest from home. She loved her mother, but wanted a chance to be free of her overly watchful eyes, even for just a little bit. At first, she was the typical wide-eyed first-year college student, spending Friday nights in the library and showing up to classes ten minutes early. Eventually, the desire to experience more had attracted her, and Avi and her roommates became more interested in club-hopping, learning new dance moves to impress each other, and buying sexy clothing to catch the eyes of cute boys, rather than studying.

A letter at the end of her second-year detailed Avi’s careless behavior. She’d violated the terms of her scholarship by remaining on academic probation, and hadn’t cooperated with her advisers to turn her low grades around. These reasons resulted in the loss of her scholarship. Ellie Linton had a few words for her only child, and none of them were pretty. All of them, however, were harsh Jamaican words Avi had never heard before and didn’t understand.

That summer was painful.

Avi worked at a local ice cream parlor, where the hours were grueling and the pay was low. But the worst was speaking to a mother who never responded, not even after Avi’s multiple apologies. Returning to school that Fall was out of the question. Her mother was a single parent, and despite working hard, they never had any real extra money. Besides, Ellie was pissed. If Avi wanted to finish her degree, she would have to find a way to pay for it herself—that much her mother had yelled at her. Avi’s bank account told her even community college would be out of the question for a while. Applying for loans wasn’t an option, because Avi had no real income of her own, and Ellie wouldn’t co-sign any of the applications.

Days flew by, and soon, the month of August was upon the Linton household. Avi’s first tuition installment was due mid-August. The summer had been lonesome; Avi missed her mother. The thought of remaining in their little town with even smaller prospects twisted her gut, but not having Ellie’s presence in her life had made the idea that much more nauseating.

It was late, much later than Avi was accustomed to her mother being out, when Ellie walked into their tiny rental home and presented her daughter with a check to cover the first semester for her junior year. Avi’s fingers shook when she pulled the check to her, hesitant to even look at the amount. She stared with misty eyes into her mother’s somber, brown ones. Ellie’s words gave Avi real hope for the first time in months: ‘I’ve been working overtime.’ Avi’s gratefulness was expressed to Ellie’s slumped shoulders as she shuffled away.

Things had been going well at school, and Avi had made good on her promise to take care of business, but the summer before the start of her senior year, Avi’s world was rocked again. Everything shifted when she was pulled over by two of her city’s police officers.

Her stomach roiled at the sight of the line to enter the club, which wrapped around the building. Avi had no intention of falling back into old habits and getting off her game.

I’ll make it up to Sofie. Take her to lunch or something.

New York was lonely, and Sofie was her only friend since moving from Norland, Florida, but she’d be foolish to enter that club. Not when she was still paying for the consequences of her poor decisions.

Just when she decided to hail a cab and chalk the night up to a lapse in judgment and wanting to please her new friend, the persistent wave of a slender hand caught Avi’s attention and halted her retreat. Forcing a smile onto her lips, she moved closer to the body attached to the exuberant hand that had beckoned her.

Impatient women hiked up their already short dresses and tugged down their necklines while men eye-stalked the women they planned on approaching with a drink in hand and a dance request on their lips.

This is going to be a long night.

Sofie stood behind a solidly built man. The guy was like a human Hummer—all thick thighs, wide shoulders, and a foreboding countenance. No one would be getting past him. Avi stepped closer to the velvet rope, which was unclasped to provide her easy entry as if she were a VIP member. The burly man ushered her farther in, allowing her to walk past him and into Sofie’s embrace. The words ‘Club Envy’ blinked behind Sofie, who turned and pulled Avi through a black door, and then down a dark corridor that glowed with neon lights.

She found herself anticipating the sights inside.
Now I understand the line outside
, Avi thought when she and Sofie reached the end of the long, narrow path. It opened to a large dance floor surrounded by leather seating arrangements, which were being tended by minimally dressed male and female servers.

This would have definitely been my kind of place years ago.

“Stop gawking like a country bumpkin and let’s go,” Sofie shouted, tugging Avi behind her.

She was left with no choice but to follow, not only because Avi would lose her friend in the thick crowd, but because her interest was now piqued. Avi was loath to admit it, but she wanted to be a part of this world of exotic beauty.

After getting her mother’s gift of a second chance, Avi had been on the straight and narrow, and though there’d been a bump in her plans, she’d forged ahead. One night was all she was going to allow herself.

“This is us.” Sofie plopped down on a plush white couch that was away from the frenzied dancing and loud music.

A server was quick to approach the duo and ask for their drink orders. Never one to deviate from what she knew, Avi requested her go-to drink of Long Island Iced Tea.

Sofie shook her head. “No. She’ll take the Bad Girl Concoction, and just a refill for me, please.” She tapped the empty glass in front of her.

Their server disappeared, returning with two drinks. With no idea of the ingredients or taste, and having to rely on the dim lighting, Avi’s eyes grew large when they settled on the innocent looking mint garnish that rested on the lip of the oversized glass. Sofie, the bolder of the two, picked up her drink and sipped from the straw while watching Avi over the rim of her glass.

Man up, Linton.
Avi picked up her glass and tipped it in Sofie’s direction as her thanks, and then tentatively placed her lips on the rim.

“This is good.” Avi swallowed more than a sip of the colorful mixed drink. She took another gulp and rolled her eyes heavenward in appreciation. The flavors overwhelmed Avi’s tongue and challenged her to get to the bottom of the glass so she could learn how the drink was made. “What’s in this?” she asked, taking her fifth—or tenth—gulp.

“A little of this and a little of that.” Sofie shrugged with a contagious smile.

Smiling in return, Avi knew that line was totally made up. It was the way Sofie’s eyes darted around, refusing to look at her. They sat in companionable silence while Avi tapped her foot to the beat and Sofie surreptitiously spied on those walking through the front door.

“Who are you looking for?”

Sofie’s eyes connected with Avi’s, realizing she was caught. “No one.”

Avi backed away, smirking. “Uh huh. And does this Mr. No One have a real name?”

“Maybe. But it’s not like it’ll go anywhere,” she grumbled.

It was clear Sofie would change the situation if it was left to her, but it didn’t sound to Avi as if she could. She decided to get her new best friend back to a happy place where nothing mattered and all was right.

She bumped Sofie’s shoulder. “Chin up. If this Mr. No One can’t see what a catch you are, then he’s an idiot. Come on. Let’s dance.”

Just like Sofie didn’t wait for Avi to follow her into the club, her hurried pace didn’t give Sofie a chance to voice her opinion. The girls stopped in the middle of the floor and let the catchy beats take over their bodies. Avi was shocked by her friend’s carefree movements, and was quick to mirror Sofie.

“I’m twenty-four, biyatch,” she yelled at the top of her lungs to no one in particular. She swayed her hips in Sofie’s direction.

I’ve buried this part of me for too long.

Someone grabbed Avi from behind.

Uncaring who it was, she danced with the same abandon from a few years ago, closing her eyes and pouring herself into her movements. She was turned around and the man trailed his hands down her sides, pulling her closer.

The stranger nudged her head to the side, his cool breath and whispered words sending tingles along Avi’s spine. She arched her body into his. “I’ve been watching you since you stepped on the floor.”

She ground her lower half into his instead of verbalizing her response. It’d been too long since she felt the hardness of a man.

His hands captured her hips. They landed—warm and heavy—and boy was she enjoying how he felt.

“The name’s Jayson, and you are?” His voice dripped deliciously in her ear, making her think of sweaty nights and sore thighs.