The Scene Read online

  After surviving my first day of work, I decide to hit the clubs. Sure, I could use a drink or two after my encounter with Xavier, but I have more important things on my mind when I ask Hailey to come out with me. Getting information.

  South Beach is packed with clubs. Eli worked the door at one of them, Ultra, and told me stories sometimes about the celebrities making out in the V.I.P. room or the college girls from up north who were kicked out for dancing on the bar. I'm hoping someone there knew him well enough to give me information.

  "Nikki, you know that's not really my thing now.” Hailey sighs. “SoBe is crazy. It's all model types and slick guys. Plus no one goes out until super late, and I have to work early as hell tomorrow. We both do."

  "When did you become an old woman, Hail?" I grin and elbow her in the side. "Come on." I give her my best puppy-dog eyes. "I've been here for two days, and I haven't hung out with any hot guys. This must be fixed."

  She smirks. "Oh yeah? I heard you met Xavier today."

  My skin almost instantly flushes, and I feel the heat spreading up my neck. "Um, okay. But he's a guest.”

  “So?”

  “So, he’s way out of my league, probably a giant playboy, and totally off limits."

  "Mmmm hmmm." She gives me a knowing look. "He's just your type, too. Dark hair, piercing eyes, body made for action.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

  "Stop it, loser."

  The throwback to our high school days sends us both into fits of giggles. I’m glad. I've probably laughed more in the last two days with Hailey than I have the entire time since Eli died.

  "Seriously, though.” I steer us back to the important topic of conversation. “Can we please go out? Just for a little while?"

  Hailey finally relents. "All right. For a little while. But I'm telling you, I'd be surprised if we find anything decent open. The kind of clubs you want to see don't open this early."

  Still, it’s worth a shot, so I put on a fitted blue dress that hits right at mid-thigh and shows off my shoulders. Strappy black heels and some red lipstick complete the look. I run a brush through my shoulder-length dirty blond hair, and I’m ready to go. Hailey puts on a black dress that's fairly similar. She teases me that I'm not tan enough to fit in with the South Beach crowd, but the rest of my outfit meets her approval, and soon we’re heading in a cab across town to the main night-life strip.

  It’s busy and bright with bars and restaurants, but when we reach Club Ultra, the place is deserted. “Where's the line outside that Eli always told me about?” I ask, looking around. “Has it gone downhill that fast?”

  Hailey laughs. “I told you, girl. The best clubs don’t open until midnight around here. We’re like three hours too early.”

  Damn. I peer in the tiny window next to the doors. The stools are still up on the tables and the only movement is behind the bar, where two employees stock the shelves with liquor bottles.

  "Can I help you?" A voice comes behind me. I turn to find a tall man who looks like an extra in a gladiator fight. His t-shirt barely stretches across his muscles, the name Club Ultra blazing across his chest. He's definitely a bouncer.

  “Sorry, I was just taking a look around.”

  The guy looks us over, then grins. “Come back in a couple of hours. I'll waive the cover charge."

  Hailey starts to lead me away, but I turn back. "Wait, maybe you can answer a question for me. Did you know a guy named Eli? Used to work the door?"

  The bouncer’s smile slips. "Why are you asking?"

  I try to keep the emotion out of my voice. "He's an old friend. Just wondering what he's been up to since I haven't seen him for a while."

  He shrugs. "I’ve only been here a month. But when you come back, you should ask the bartenders. They've all been here forever."

  I start to open my mouth to ask more, but think better of it. Hailey must sense my hesitation, because she takes my elbow and starts to steer me away.

  "Come on, Nikki. Let's go kill some time until they open."

  I expect an "I told you so," but to Hailey's credit, it never comes.

  #

  Hailey takes me to a more low-key bar around the corner with a relaxed vibe. She waits until we've settled in at a booth and have mojitos in hand before she asks the question I've been waiting for.

  "You’re looking for information about Eli?”

  I sigh deeply and take a large gulp of my drink before I respond. "I'm trying to find out what really happened to my brother. I don't believe what the police told me."

  She lifts a skeptical eyebrow. "What do you mean? I thought it was a car accident."

  "That’s not the whole story,” I insist. “The police said he was mixed up in a drug ring, dealing, doing all kinds of stuff."

  “Eli? Are they sure?” Hailey frowns.

  "That’s what the police said. But I just don't believe it, Hailey. I mean I know he got in trouble a few times, but that was all petty stuff. Pulling pranks and having pool parties when some neighbor went out of town. Having fun. Not hurting anyone."

  Hailey bites her lip. "I know how hard it has to be to hear those things, but people can change. It had been how long since you'd seen him?"

  "Almost a year," I respond quietly.

  She gives me a sympathetic look. "This is a crazy town. Look, I’m not saying they’re right,” she adds quickly. “But I’ve seen it happen before. People come here and get caught up in the scene. Partying, booze, drugs. Maybe he got in over his head. Or maybe he was involved with the wrong people."

  I shake my head stubbornly. “That’s not Eli.”

  Hailey doesn’t look convinced. “Even if you don’t believe it, what are you trying to find?”

  "Answers, information, anything.”

  She sighs. "Are you sure you don't want to just let this go? Of course you’re still hurting, and your parents must be torn apart. But whether there’s more to what happened or not, it won’t change anything."

  I feel a flash of guilt. I haven’t told my parents what I’m really doing here. I know it would only open the wounds that haven’t even begun to heal. But I need to do this. I have to find the answers. "I get what you’re saying. And maybe I won’t find anything, or maybe the police were right. But something doesn’t add up here, and I won’t be able to move on until I’ve exhausted every possibility. I’m sorry, Hails,” I add, “I don’t want to bring you down, but it’s something I have to do.”

  Hailey gives me a smile. “You always were the stubborn one. OK, we’ll go back to Ultra and ask around. But you need to be prepared for the answers. They might not be anything you want to hear.”

  “Anything’s better than not knowing,” I tell her firmly. “Something’s wrong here, I just know it.”

  #

  By the time we head back, the line to get into Club Ultra snakes around the corner of the building. Sports cars are parked on the sidewalk, and it looks like a fashion show out here. With no way to bypass the line, my heart sinks. We'll never make it inside.

  But before I can even turn around, Hailey's already striding up to the bouncer. It’s the same guy as before. A grin spreads across his face when he sees Hailey. She gives him a flirty smile, and he nods. She motions for me to join her at the V.I.P. rope. We're in.

  It may be the tropics outside, but when we step into the club, the cool air blasting from overhead brings up goosebumps on my arms. Bodies pack the room, dancing to the latest club hits. Everyone is dressed to impress: high heels and short skirts, but I have to appreciate the irony of how little fabric the women are wearing versus how much I'm sure they spent.

  I look down at my own outfit and feel a stab of doubt. I don't belong here with these people in their designer shoes, going through bottles of liquor like it's water. I'm in over my head.

  Hailey's warm hand on my arm pulls me back to the moment. "Another mojito?"

  I nod, and she weaves her way through the crowd toward the closest bar. Several men let their eyes linger as she walk
s away. Hailey was always a knock-out, but more than her long legs, it’s her confidence that turns heads. I take a deep breath, and try to fake that same confident strut.

  Scanning the crowd, I notice a few waitresses delivering drinks to nearby tables. It’s quieter there, away from the bar, so I figure it’s the best place to start asking questions. One girl is cleaning up the remnants of what must have been some party. Overturned bottles and glasses spill onto the floor, a real mess.

  "I bet this wasn't in the job description," I say, reaching over to help put some glasses onto her tray.

  She snorts and eyes me a little warily. "Yeah. It never is. Thanks for the help."

  "I'm afraid I have motives other than just being nice." I take a deep breath and continue. "I'm trying to find a friend of mine who used to work here, and I was hoping you might know him."

  "Why are you looking for him?"

  "He's just…gone." I choke away the emotion. "I hadn't heard from him in a long time, and I'm worried he got into something he couldn't get out of, if you know what I mean."

  She studies me for a few seconds and then nods her head. "Yeah, I've been down that road a few times. What's his name?"

  "Eli. He was a bouncer here for a while. I'm not sure how long ago."

  "Eli," she repeats. I can see her searching her memory and then the moment when she thinks she's got him. "Kinda tall, wild brown hair, smooth in that charming way that eventually wears you down?"

  I laugh. "That's him."

  "I didn't know him very well, but he seemed like a really good guy."

  I feel a pang, but try not to lose focus. "Was he friendly with anyone here that you know of?"

  She stops her work and straightens up. "Um…I don't think so, but the bouncers kind of live in their own little world. They and the bartenders are the rockstars. We're the roadies who clean up the messes left behind." She gives me a tired grin. "I wish I could be more help."

  "Thanks. This is all a long shot anyway. Can you tell me where I'd find a manager? Maybe they could pass on a message for me."

  "V.I.P. section." She points to the corner of the room where thick curtains keep out the unimportant. "But good luck getting in. Every girl in this place would kill for a pass."

  I thank her for the information and make my way over to the other side of the club. The bouncer standing at the entrance to the V.I.P. room gives me a look that says, "don't even try it." I hover near the entrance. He eventually lets someone in with a nod. While the curtain is open, I see the group inside: guys in thousand-dollar suits, and a cluster of drop-dead gorgeous women. They’re lounging around, talking and laughing, clearly feeling on top of the world.

  The curtains fall closed, shutting me out again. Dammit.

  The only way to get in is to become one of them, and I have no idea how to do that.

  #

  After an hour of quizzing a few employees, including some of the "rockstars," it's clear that no one really remembers Eli. At least, they don't remember anything useful.

  "Nikki, let's come back another night. Get some different people to talk to." Hailey picks up her half-full mojito and frowns at it. "Besides, we have to be at work early, and if I have two more sips of this drink, I'm going to have an even harder time getting up than usual."

  I'm just about to accept defeat when the V.I.P. curtain opens to let out one of the women from the table I saw earlier. A tall brunette with a killer red dress and heels who actually gives the bouncer a genuine smile. She heads down the hall to the bathroom, and I see an opportunity.

  "Okay, I'll have mercy on you. Just let me go to the bathroom real quick."

  Hailey groans. "Really? You can't hold it until we get home?"

  "Two minutes, I swear." I put my hands on her shoulders and turn her so her back is to the wall and she's facing the direction I'm headed. "Wait in this exact spot, and I'll be back in a few."

  She nods and calls after me. "You better be back before I have to take a third sip of this drink!"

  Like the rest of the club, the bathroom is seriously elegant. And enormous. The stalls are on the other side of the room, closed off by private, floor to ceiling doors. In between them and the sinks are small couches and ottomans covered in a deep indigo-colored velvet. Small chandeliers hang from a fabric-draped ceiling, the light catching on both the crystals and the gold threads running the length of the fabric.

  This place is fancier than my whole apartment.

  I sit on the edge of an ottoman and rub my ankle. Sore feet seem like a logical reason to hang out in the bathroom. I feel like a stalker, but I don't know what else to do.

  The woman comes out of a stall and approaches the sinks. Judging by the way she walks, she's either a model or is just naturally graceful. I can tell she notices me in the mirror as she reapplies lipstick, but I fake a pained expression and go back to relaxing my feet.

  "Well, your feet may be killing you, but those are some fantastic shoes." She eyes them appreciatively, and I send up a silent prayer to Hailey for letting me borrow them.

  I huff out a laugh. "Yeah, it's been a rough night. But thanks for the compliment."

  "I'm Kayla." She flashes a sweet smile.

  “Nicole.” I reply. “I saw you over by the V.I.P. section earlier. Looked like a fun party. Who are those guys?"

  "The suits?” Kayla goes back to her makeup. “They’re the owners, some friends. You know.” She shrugs. “Some of the guys are kind of assholes, but they know how to party.”

  "Maybe I'll crash one sometime. I'd just need to knock out that bouncer who looks like he'd eat me for breakfast."

  She laughs. "Yeah, the scene here is pretty cut-throat. They guard the rope like they’re freaking secret service agents. Only the hottest new faces allowed." She rolls her eyes, but I can see she’s pleased to have entry. “Anyway, nice meeting you, Nikki. Have fun in town!”

  With a final glance at her reflection, she sashays out – back to her exclusive party, and the one place that might hold answers for me.

  I follow her back into the club, watching as she heads past the bouncer with a smile.

  “You ready?” Hailey appears. “I’m so ready to crash.”

  “Uh huh,” I reply, distracted.

  “Come on,” she tugs my hand. “If we’re even a minute late for the ferry tomorrow, Chad will hit the roof.”

  Chapter Three

  Since Hailey and I only got about three hours of sleep, I'm glad that the room service orders are slow. I spend most of the morning on my phone, looking online at all the Miami party blogs to see if I can remember clubs Eli had mentioned, ones where he hung out when he was off work. It wasn’t just Ultra, he really loved the scene down here: flirting with girls, drinking, generally having a blast. But nothing rings any bells. I'm about to put my phone away when I see someone I recognize: Kayla.

  She’s wearing the same outfit as last night, posing for the camera with a couple of other gorgeous party girls. As I scroll through the photographs, I recognize some of the other girls from the club and some of the suits too. Clearly, this is the A-list, the hottest crowd in town.

  I need that access. I've got to get the owners to notice me…and soon.

  For now though, Hailey's right. I have to be patient. I have to collect information and let the evidence take me where it goes, even if it means finding out things about Eli that I don't really want to know.

  "Nikki?” Carmen’s yell comes. “Order up!”

  I tuck my phone away and get back to work.

  "Where to today?” I ask. “Do I finally get to see another part of the island besides the bungalows?"

  Carmen's laugh echoes in the quiet kitchen. "You tired of Mr. Perfect already?"

  I'm glad she has her back to me so she doesn't see me blush. "Um…no, I just—"

  "Well, good. Because he wants a full breakfast today." She nods to the breakfast plate she’s preparing.

  The smell of the steak on the grill is almost too much after no breakfast. I may h
ave to splurge and have it for lunch. It's expensive even with our discount, but my mouth waters thinking about the steak, not to mention the sides Carmen serves. Black beans, rice, plantains, and chimi-churri sauce. It's heaven on a plate. Carmen finishes loading up the food, and I take the tray out to where a driver is waiting to take me across the property.

  I half expect another note on Xavier's door, but it's not there. “Room service?” I call, knocking.

  “Hi.” The door swings open – on a woman. She's tall, blonde, and super polished, in a silk dress that looks like it's right out Vogue.

  She calls over her shoulder. "Did you order something, Xavier?"

  "Yes, let her in."

  The woman steps aside. As I walk into the living room, I see that Xavier is on the phone in the office area, but he glances up as I set the tray down. Damn. He almost looks better dressed than half-naked: a designer suit that fits him just right, with his white shirt open at the neck to reveal his golden tan.

  “Nicole,” he says, covering the handset. His dark stare glides over me. “I was hoping to see you again.”

  My heart beats faster from the intimate look, but I’m painfully aware of his girlfriend shooting daggers at me from across the room.

  I clear my throat. “If you'll just sign for me, I'll be out of your way."

  “You’re not in the way.” Xavier turns and murmurs a few words into the phone, then hangs up. “Are we all settled here?”

  I open my mouth, then realize he’s talking to the blonde woman.

  “Yes,” she says, looking annoyed. “But we were going to talk about the opening next week—”

  “You can call my secretary about that.” Xavier gives her a bland smile. “Thanks for delivering it in person.”

  The blonde glares at me again, then picks up her purse. “Of course. I’ll see myself out.”

  She walks off, closing the door behind her.

  We’re alone.

  “I’m sorry for interrupting,” I say, awkward.

  “Not at all.” Xavier’s lips quirk in a private smile. “You did me a favor. I thought she’d never leave.” He strolls across the room. There’s a large crate leaning against the wall, and he lifts the lid. "Do you like art, Nicole?"