#different fandom

The boys think on it for a few days when a gaggle of business class looking women stumble into the club and gather at the counter. They’re screaming and laughing, all but one, who looks a little out of place. After the rowdy group is served, Soap manages to talk to the shy one. Turns out she is an accountant. Works for a firm but also her uncle who raised her. He asks her a few questions about business entities, lawyers, and liability. Her eyes light up with enthusiasm rather than the drinks and she starts talking a mile a minute and drawing diagrams on napkins. Soap is chuckling internally at her nerdiness.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” she asks.

“No, bonnie. I just have no idea what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” Soap, such a pretty face.

She starts to wilt a little with a tight smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m wasting your time,” she says.

“Nonono! Bonnie, it’s not fa me! It’s for me boss. He’s gonna ken more what you’re talkin’ bout than me.”

Soap looks up to the big one way mirror overlooking the club and points to the woman sitting next to him. He gives a thumbs up sign and decides to bring her upstairs. She’s clearly nervous as Soap brings her down a long hallway, around some corners, and up the stairs. Ghost, with a black surgical mask on eyes her up and down before he pats her down, eliciting a squeak from her in her inebriated state.

She’s greeted with the strong smell of cigars and cologne and a strikingly handsome, bearded man seated in a set of club chairs. He rises from his chair and goes to greet her, taking in her clubbing attire which isn’t overly sexy like her companions that came with her.

“Soap here thinks I need to meet you. What is it you do, Miss…?” John says as he guides her to sit down.

His heady aroma short circuited her brain for a moment and she stares at his expensive suit and glass of scotch on the table. She’s in the big leagues now.

She gives him a brief overview of what she does and Soap hands him the napkin she had been drawing on. He nods, sagely, gives her a smile, and says, “Let’s meet tomorrow for a late lunch, my treat.” He gives her a business card and Soap escorts her out of the room. On her way out Gaz is coming in to join Price and she just about walks into the door jamb because she’s staring at Gaz while he is passing through the door, entranced by the beauty of his dark skin and dazzling smile.

“Whoah, steady there, Love,” he says to her as he places a hand on her shoulder.

“Och, hands off the lass, Garrick,” Soap teases with a wink.

Her bewilderment is apparent as she looks between the handsome faces of Soap, Gaz and the last glimpse of Price, chuckling at her as she leaves.

You woke up in your bed with a groan, and then a gasp. Did last night really happen? You met the club owner of one of the most popular clubs in the city AND he wants to have a meeting with you because you opened your mouth and blabbered away like a nerd about TAXES?! You groaned into your pillow and kicked your feet under the covers. This was crazy.

You get ready, making yourself look as professional as you can, but no bun. You bring a pad of paper and pen, and pep talk yourself in the mirror. “I can do this. It’s just a business meeting.”

Your jaw drops when you see the place where John has decided to have the late lunch. It’s reservation only, of course, and way out of your pay grade. The maitré de warmly calls your name and takes you to a small table where John is already seated in a dapper suit. “How did he know my name?” you ask yourself.

”I ordered for you, I hope you don’t mind,” he says with a charming smile as you’re seated.

The lunch is amazing, and the conversation is even better. You don’t come across as too nerdy to John, just passionate, he says, making you blush a little. You were always teased in school and never called passionate.

So it’s agreed. You will work with John and your firm to handle the paperwork of transferring ownership of his club to a trust. Each club will be owned by a LLC, under a made up name. “Nana’s Pie, LLC, and Poppa’s Brew, LLC” are the names you come up with. When a lawyer comes to look and see who owns it, those are the names they will find and not be able to go any further. Each one is a separate business entity, managed by another company, again, without John’s name on it anywhere. Then there is another Trust set up, managed by a lawyer’s firm, and of course, he can’t give out any client information. John is named as an employee, and receives salary from the Trust. He’s so tickled with himself that he says the place is under new management. “I have no idea who bought the place. Some shady firm, but they are letting me stay on as manager of it.”

With a conspiratorial wink he tells his men the owner was thinking of opening up another club and wanted him to manage that one too.

What started out as a small lunch with John Price, introducing him to Tax Management and Asset Protection, turns into many late afternoon business meetings with him and his men. Take away is ordered at his office as he completes paperwork and begins on building plans for the new club. You’re seen around the club during the day time hours so often the boys suggest to John that he hire you full time. Each one of them takes turns chauffeuring you from the club back to your house. Sundays are spent hanging out with Gaz, or Kyle, as you learn his name, Johnny, and Simon, the silent one. He used to creep you out with his staring, but now you know it’s just his manner. He speaks through action and body language.

The afternoon lunches, mid morning meetings, and lazy Sundays have you feeling comfortable with John. It doesn’t slip past his notice how you gaze at him or hold your breath when he walks up to you. Or how you cling to his arm when he guides you inside a restaurant. He winks at you, knowing it makes you flustered. The boys will make any excuse to make you sit next to John, or have you walk in front of them so they can ogle your ass. John gives them a flick on the shoulder (or head if it’s Soap) when they act like dogs. “Bunch of muppets, don’t know how to treat a lady,” he mutters under his breath.

It’s all part of their plan either way. They like you, John really likes you, and they know you like John. You didn’t think you were being that obvious, but longevity breeds familiarity. That’s why you’re only a tiny bit surprised when John shows up at your door one evening in the middle of the week with a bouquet of flowers. You hope he can’t hear the racing of your heart and your internal screaming. He’s always lavished you with gifts and favors- picking up the tab for your girls’ night out with your friends, upgrading your laptop, bringing you bracelets since you favor those more than purses. He’ll bring in the chocolates you mentioned that are hard to find and will give you a bottle of wine for the weekend.

He looks nervous but no more than you since you’re in lounging clothes and your hair done up in a messy bun. You invite him in while you put the flowers in water and change clothes quickly. You pick a modest dress that you normally wouldn’t wear to work. John smiles as you come out and says that he actually liked your hair up in the bun. You oblige, and put it up quickly, but still in a flattering way.

Dinner is great. John takes you to the same expensive restaurant and the maitré de smiles warmly at you. You wonder how many other women he has brought here, but quickly brush that thought away, deciding to live in the moment. Conversation flows like it normally does with John telling a little about himself and the boys from before the club. They were all in the same unit together with John as their commanding officer. It was natural for them to follow him into civilian life, especially after too many close calls on special operations missions. They considered him and each other as family and would do anything for each other.

Towards the end of the evening and the date, you and John take a stroll through the hotel gardens. He holds your hand and you let him lead you as you take in the beautiful flowers and lights.

“I’ve been out of practice for a while and frankly, haven’t had the time to pursue anyone,” John says.

It suddenly dawns on you that he “knows” you like him. Heat creeps up your neck and face as you keep your eyes lowered and focused on anything but his face.

“You know I’m a man of action. I get an idea and make it happen.”

At this point he places his knuckle under your chin to raise your eyes to his brilliant blue one.

“I’ve been enjoying all our time together besides all the business talk. And you’re more important than any of those things. You’ve been so amazing since the night I met you and I think, no, I know I’m falling for you.”

He pauses as he runs a finger down the side of your face and continues.

“I think you feel the same way and I want to know, if you do, will you be my girlfriend?”

Your heart is racing and your mouth is dry. You swallow and bite your bottom lip before you respond with an enthusiastic “Yes!”

He grins with happiness as he touches his forehead to yours, creating an even more intimate space. “I’ve been dying to kiss you. Can I?” he asks as his eyes crinkle.

You nod your head and he cradles the side of your face with his hand and the other rests on your hip. His lips are warm and soft while his whiskers are prickly against your skin. The taste of his mouth and smell of his skin are just divine as your lips mingle with his. You’re breathless when the kiss ends, and you’re hoping you don’t appear too much like a schoolgirl with a kiss from her crush.

He kisses you again before you leave the garden area and return to the valet for his car. You try to hide your smile on the way home but John knows you’re happy. When he leaves you at your door, he gives you another heartstopping kiss and says he will see you tomorrow.