Season 1, Episode 1: Girls' Night Out
1862 Words
FRIDAY
As Natalie’s eyes met his for the very first time, she immediately felt a shiver of anticipation as his intense gaze roamed her body. Her heart almost stopped when he caught her looking up at him, and his lips curled into a suggestive smirk as he winked at her from upstairs.
“Natalie!” Connie grinned, leaning over to speak in her ear over the blaring music of the nightclub. “That sexy gwailou is looking at you!”
Natalie instantly turned away, hoping that he didn’t notice her practically jump out of her high heels.
“What’s a gwailou?” she asked, her face scrunched in confusion as she swayed her hips to the rhythm of the heavy bass. She could still feel his eyes on her as she danced, but she was too nervous to turn back around.
“It means ‘white devil’ in Cantonese,” Connie giggled. “It is what we call westerners.”
“So, I’m a gwailou, too?”
Connie’s eyes grew wide, but as soon as Natalie began to double over with laughter, Connie couldn’t help but join in.
“Why is everything so hilarious?!” Natalie howled, throwing her arm around Connie’s shoulders as she swayed unsteadily in her stiletto heels.
“Because you are drunk!”
“So are you!”
“So, does that mean you are not interested in joining that guy at his VIP table for expensive champagne?” Connie asked, wagging her eyebrows conspiratorially at her friend.
“Oh, I’m very interested,” Natalie said. “Come on, let’s get drinks first.”
After pressing their way through the crowd of bodies on the dance floor, she leaned her elbows on the counter while Connie called over the bartender. Pretending as though she were casually scanning the nightclub with mild interest, her gaze lifted up to the second floor of ULTRA, one of Macau’s hottest nightclubs.
The two-story club featured a popular DJ playing from a stage on the first level, with a massive, 15-foot backdrop behind him displaying a kaleidoscope of colors. The dance floor in front of the DJ booth was brimming full with eager partygoers from all over Europe and Asia, jumping up and down to the heavy electronic beats that boomed in Natalie’s ears. On the second floor were the VIP tables, which overlooked a clear, acrylic railing onto the party below.
He’s still staring at me, she realized. Their eyes met once more for the briefest of moments before she averted her gaze to the floor.
“Well?” Connie asked, leaning casually against the bar counter beside her.
“Early thirties, probably from the UK, and works out a lot,” Natalie spouted off. “And judging by his Tom Ford suit, he’s very wealthy.”
“Wow!” Connie exclaimed. “You are good!”
“He’s exactly my type of client,” Natalie nodded, fighting her impaired senses to try and focus. “We definitely need to go party upstairs.”
“Let’s go!” Connie agreed enthusiastically.
The pair of girls grabbed their cocktails from the bartender and began to weave their way through the crowd toward the staircase. Natalie felt incredibly unsteady on her feet as she stumbled from side to side, and she was trying desperately not to spill her drink on her favorite club dress. It was a short, bodycon dress in red, which enhanced her brunette hair and olive features.
Hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, Natalie Torres had only arrived in the glitzy casino capital of Macau two weeks prior. She still could not get over how tall she felt compared to many of the people in the club, whereas back home she thought she was fairly average in height.
“I like being tall!” she declared, holding her drink up to clink her glass with Connie.
“You are blocking the path!” Connie exclaimed, nudging her friend forward.
Connie was Natalie’s roommate, having been connected through the human resources department at work. They both were employed at the brand-new Vesper hotel on the glamorous Cotai Strip, which was the Chinese version of the Las Vegas Strip.
The pair had hit it off right away as friends, and Natalie was grateful for a Chinese roommate that spoke the local language and understood the culture. It was a rough adjustment, but having Connie at her side certainly helped ease the culture shock.
Connie was only a couple of years younger than Natalie, who was twenty-nine herself. Natalie envied Connie’s lithe figure, although she barely stood at five feet tall. Although Connie was always trying to lighten her complexion with the latest Korean skin creams, Natalie was in awe of her smooth skin and her perfectly straight, raven hair, which was cut into a short, modern bob.
As Natalie stepped onto the landing of the staircase, she paused to scan the row of VIP tables. The club’s flashing gobo lights panned slowly across the balcony, bathing her target subject in a purple hue.
Gottcha, she thought triumphantly.
She strode casually along the path to his table, making sure to sway her hips with a bit more sensuality than usual. Connie was close behind Natalie as they made their way forward. Studying the table, Natalie tried to glean any additional info that she could use to get to know him.
A few other men his age were gathered at the table, sitting casually on the back of the booth with their feet planted on the seat. Each of them was paired with a very young local female, which made Natalie bristle inwardly. It was certainly not an unusual sight around here, but it still made her uncomfortable.
However, much to her relief, her target didn’t seem accompanied by a female companion.
“Hello there,” Natalie said confidently, approaching the edge of his table.
“Care to join us?” he asked, his brown eyes studying her with heavy interest.
“We’d love to.”
She slid into the booth beside him. Connie sat down across from them and began chatting animatedly with one of the other men at the table.
“What’s your name?” he asked, throwing his arm casually across the back of the booth behind her.
Natalie thought about pulling one of her business cards out of her wallet, but she decided it might be best to build a little rapport first before getting down to business.
“I’m Natalie,” she smiled, offering her hand to shake his.
“You’ve got a good, firm handshake,” he observed with a small chuckle. “Not a wimpy little handshake like most women have.”
“Thank you,” she said proudly. “Do I detect an American accent?”
“Yes,” he smiled, flashing his perfect, white grin at her.
Damn, I was wrong! she cursed herself.
But she had a feeling that was the only thing she’d gotten wrong about him.
“What a surprise!” she exclaimed. “I haven’t found too many fellow Americans since I moved here.”
“I suppose we are few and far between here,” he nodded. “You live here in Macau?”
“Yeah, I just moved here about two weeks ago,” she replied. “What about you? Are you here for business or pleasure?”
“Mainly business,” he answered, shifting himself so that his thigh was pressed against hers. “But I’m not opposed to a little pleasure.”
Now that they were sitting beside each other, Natalie was able to take a better look at him. He seemed even more attractive from up close, with his chiseled jawline showing a hint of a five o’clock shadow. His dark, wavy brown hair was styled into a classic crew cut, and his chest was broad beneath his snug, expensive suit. She could tell just by sitting beside him that he was tall.
“Champagne?” he asked, gesturing toward the ice bucket on the coffee table in front of them. Natalie’s eyes scanned the label, and her eyes nodded appreciatively at the expensive bottle of Cristal.
“Yes, thank you,” she said. As her new friend poured her a glass, she quickly threw back the rest of her cocktail before setting the empty glass on the table.
“Here you are,” he said, passing her the glass. He held up his own toward her in a toast. “To an incredible night with a beautiful woman.”
“Cheers to that,” she giggled, clinking her glass against his.
He settled back against the seat, pressing his thigh once again against hers. His intoxicating cologne wafted to her nose, and for a moment she wondered if maybe she should refrain from making him a client.
I really wouldn’t mind going back to his place tonight, she thought, her mind swirling in a haze of liquor and music. But I don’t sleep with my clients. I could really use the business to build my clientele right now, but he’s just so damned hot…
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, quirking an amused eyebrow in her direction.
“I was just wondering,” she said, biting her lip, “…do you want to get out of here?”
The words had spilled from her lips before she had a chance to stop them. She wanted to scold herself for thinking with her lady parts instead of her brain, but it was difficult to resist the lusty expression that crossed his face as he considered her indecent proposal.
He leaned his lips down close to her ear.
“I’d love to.”
His words sent shivers of excitement up her spine.
Work can wait, she decided with a grin.
He stood up from the table, shaking hands with his friends as he bid them goodbye. Natalie followed close behind, leaning down to whisper in Connie’s ear.
“Don’t wait up for me tonight,” she winked.
Her dark eyes widened with surprise, but she grinned conspiratorially back at Natalie.
“Be safe,” Connie replied, waving goodbye before turning back to her conversation.
“Ready?” he asked, coming over to stand beside her.
Natalie nodded and let him lead the way across the balcony and down the stairs. Once they reached the bottom floor, he reached his warm hand out to grab hers, leading her through the crowd of people toward the front door. She fought to suppress a smile at his touch, her heart fluttering in her chest.
The night air was a sobering slap in the face when they stepped outside into the humid night. A line of taxis waited along the street outside the building, and her new, mysterious friend opened the back passenger door to the car at the front.
“Wait a second,” she said, pausing in a moment of hesitation on the sidewalk. “Where are we going?”
“Back to my suite at The Venetian,” he answered. “Is that okay?”
“Sounds perfect,” she grinned, ducking into the taxi.
- Writer
