The stench of alcohol and sweat was the first thing I noticed, besides the flashing lights and blaring music. I looked around the room to notice everything about the place was dark expect for the stage lights. Sweaty bodies grinded against each other on the dance floor, and people were taking shots near the bar, the cling of the glasses against the counter bouncing off the walls every now and then.

I pushed my jet black hair behind my ear as I took a moment to observe myself in the reflection. I wore a tight little black dress matching the strappy black three inch heels. My bronzer made my fair skin look slightly tanned in the dark light, and the black mascara made my brown eyes appear brighter. I bit my lip from my nervousness, forgetting temporarily about my red lipstick.

I was a mess on the inside right now. I normally don't go out to clubs or huge parties. In school, I was know as the nice pretty girl while my friends, who decided to drag me out here tonight, were the popular party girls. I still have no idea how I'm friends with them. They partied while I stayed home and studied, but still, they were always so nice to me.

Suddenly, my friend Belle grabbed my arm and started dragging me over to a round table in the corner. She ordered wine for everyone while my friends were checking out some of the guys here.

"Loosen up!" Belle exclaimed while jokingly massaging my shoulders. "Gab, you're hot! Just have a little fun tonight since I bet all the guys here will be chasing after you!"

I laughed uncomfortably. "I don't know, Belle. I'm not this type of person."

"Just have a few drinks and get on the dance floor," she waved me off. "You'll be having fun in no time."

One by one, they all left to go dance or to talk with some guy, but I just sat there alone with my third glass of wine, wishing I was anywhere else. I wasn't a party girl, and this club wasn't my style. I pouted and rested my head in my hand, sipping some more wine— at least that I can count on.

"Why are you sulking here all alone?" A deep voice sounded from my side.

I glanced up, surprised someone came over to talk to me. Even though I wasn't enjoying being here, I had to admit that I felt glad that a man as attractive as this one noticed me. He was tall, and his suit looked like it was sculpted to show off his muscles. I was intrigued by him to say the least.

"You know the cliché situation in which the girl who studies all the time gets dragged out to a club by her friends?"

"Yep," he replied.

"On top of that, they all left me here," I muttered.

"Why don't you go dance with them?" He asked, curiosity illuminating his face.

"I would if this were a different club."

"What do you mean?" His eyebrows furrowed together and he leaned in closer to me.

"This club resembles more of an American college frat house than a luxurious, European club that it's marketed as." I took another sip of my wine.

"Come on, it's a club. It's supposed to be dark besides the stage lights. It gives it a more mysterious night life feel. The black leather couches are designed to make this place look sleek with the black marble countertops. And the dance floor is made of—" he paused noticing my fading focus. "Are you even listening?"

"Yes," I replied. "It just takes me a while to process so much stupid all at once." Okay, that's enough of the red wine.

I looked up to him to see a completely taken a back expression as if no one has ever talked back to him in his entire life.

"Well if you're so smart, what would you design this club to look like?" He took another sip of his drink.

"If it's being marketed as European luxury, then you have to add European elements. I would put Greek columns on the walls with the balconies between them, surrounding the dance floor. I would add marble countertops to the bar with some color lights, maybe purple. An Italian style fountain would look amazing in here. If you could turn the Venetian or Caesar's Palace hotels in Vegas into clubs, that would be ideal."

"That is a terrible, horrible, incredibly foolish idea," he said, but then shrugged a moment later, "let's do it and see what happens."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. "Why would I ever open a club? Don't you see the type of person I am?"

"You could just design it. Honestly, think about a career in that," he suggested, raising his glass to toast. "You'd be good at it." Our glasses clinked together before we downed the rest of our drinks.

"I'm Alex by the way." He offered his hand palm up.

"Gabrielle." I placed my hand in his, which he brought to his lips to place a small kiss on it, sending surprising sparks down my arm. I never thought I would be attracted to any guys that went to clubs, but here I am.

"Gab! No time for flirting! We need to go right now! I think Daphne drank too and we need to get her to the hospital. You're the most sober, so get your car keys out and get going!" Belle grabbed my shoulder and pulled me up.

I turned back to Alex and apologetically said, "I have to go, but thank you for keeping me company."

"I understand," he got up from his chair. "It was nice meeting you," he kissed my cheek. "I hope your friend is alright. Drive safe." He wished me goodbye, but it didn't feel right. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to get to know a guy past a friendship.

There was something about him. Something about the way he watched me. I felt like I was the only girl in the club, like he actually cared about what I was saying, like he was intrigued by me.

*

I reread the third paragraph in my textbook for the fifth time, again my mind wandering to somewhere it shouldn't. After going to the club about a month ago, I've had trouble focusing on my education, especially in the later hours of the night.

Absurdly, I had this foolish craving to call up my friends and ask them to drag me out to the same club, hoping that he will be there too and find me. But this time, I would talk with him for a longer amount of time, maybe dance as well. This time I would make him want me, make him want to see me again.

Thinking back, the way his suit clung to his toned body, and the way his eyes held a sparkle of devilishness, ruined the way I saw men at my university. There was just something so different about him that made me cling to the hope I could see him again.

I noticed that I once again lost my focus. I decided to close my textbook for now to make some tea. Once I finished, I took the warm mug in my hands and headed over to the balcony. I opened the door, a chilly gust of winding running over my skin. I sat there for a bit while sipping my tea, staring at the Parisian buildings, thinking about why the hell I couldn't get him off my mind, even though I knew the hope I had for something more was futile.

When I drank all my tea, I went back inside to wash my mug. I was in the middle of drying it when the doorbell rang. I put the mug in its place quickly and got the door. The man who stood in front of me had shivers running down my spine. He's actually here.

"Alex?" I questioned, needing the reassurance.

"Yes, Gabrielle," he replied. "I have a surprise of you."

"Surprise?" I haven't seen this man for a month after a brief conversation and here he was telling me he had a surprise for me.

"Yes, and if you put on a dress and heels, you can see it."

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"It's a surprise," he chuckled.

I rolled my eyes, smiling. "Okay, Come wait inside." I opened the door wider for him to come in and closed it when he passed.

I decided to go with a red dress and black pumps. I ran over to the mirror to fix up my hair and makeup before stepping out of my bedroom and walking toward the living room. Once I was in his view, I noticed his gaze going down my body, lingering on my chest and then my legs.

He stood up and offered me his hand, which I took, and lead me out the door. I grabbed my phone and purse and locked my door before we walked together to the elevator. Once we were outside, he led me to his Bugatti, which instantly made me question who he actually was. If he had this car, he must have money. A tinge of fear grew within me when I considered the idea he was in the mafia.

As we drove, anxiousness built up within me. I was excited to see the surprise since he made it seem like it's good, but if he really is involved in the mafia, I'm not sure if I want anything to do with him. Nevertheless, when I looked at him or spoke with him, I felt butterflies.

We pulled up to the club we met last time, which had a considerably longer line outside it than the last time. He stopped at the valet and walked over to the other side of the car to open my door. I placed my hand in his, sending sparks down my arm, and stepped out.

"You took me to the same club?" I asked.

"I wanted to show you something." He led me toward the entrance. The tunnel was still dark and the familiar blaring music invaded my ears. Instead of going straight in, he took me up some stairs. When we were at the top, we turned the corner, and when I saw the entire club from this level, my jaw dropped.

Everything was in the way I described it should be to him before, but instead of just an idea, this was a reality. The club was much more beautiful and it screamed expensive. The bar was filled with men and women flirting, and the dance floor was a tiny bit overcrowded.

"B-But h-how?" I couldn't even form a sentence.

"About a month ago, a woman insulted the club owner," he shrugged.

"The club owner?" I asked in disbelief.

"So what do you think?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I slapped his arm, his eyes widening, clearly not expecting this reaction. "I'm a 22 year old university student studying biology! What do I know about designing clubs?!"

"More than most professionals apparently," he commented.

"What do you mean?"

"Sales have doubled and five times as many people are regulars as before. We might need to expand this club if the same growth rate continues," he explained.

"I still can't believe you did this,"

"Do you like it?"

"I do," I said, smiling up at him.

"Well, I still have to thank you for the idea. How about dinner tomorrow night?" He suggested, raising an eyebrow.

I chuckled at how this all turned out. "Sure," I replied.

"So, Gabrielle, would you dance with me at this club now?" He offered his hand.

"Now, I will," I answered, smiling, placing my left hand in his, which at the time I didn't know would have a ring on it four years later.