Chapter 29: Chaos and Noise
Timeline: 22:30, Friday
Location: The Vault, Mission District, Sam Francisco
The bass shook the concrete walls of the stairwell as we walked down a flight of stairs in an alleyway, emerging into a large, subterranean room filled with light and sound. The Vault was an old bank archive converted into a club. Thick steel doors lined the walls, and the DJ booth sat inside a massive, open circular vault door.
The air felt cool—industrial AC blasting to counter the body heat of three hundred people.
"You okay?" Marcus asked, leaning close to my ear to be heard over the thumping beat.
"I'm great!" I shouted back.
The blazer gave me armor. The boots gave me height. The silver sequins on my cami caught the strobe lights every time I moved, and my skirt gave me motion. I wasn't anywhere near as cute as Ellie in her slip dress and leather jacket. But I did feel a little more confident.
We walked through the crowd. I recognized a few of the security staff from the perimeter patrols at Agonwood, but the rest were strangers—Alex's wider empire of R&D and legal staff. They looked like a mix of exhausted engineers and sharp-edged lawyers letting off steam.
I guess they needed this as much as we did.
Alex had created a closed ecosystem. No one pushed. No one leered.
"Drinks!" Alex announced, steering us toward a reserved booth near the dance floor.
A server immediately appeared with a bucket of ice, premium spirits, and craft beer. Alex nodded, and she began to pour.
"To the weekend!" Dan yelled, raising a beer.
"To forgetting the week!" Ellie cheered, clinking her glass against his.
We drank. The vodka hit my bloodstream fast.
"Let's dance!" Ellie grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the floor.
For the next hour, I ignored the physics equations in my head. I danced with Ellie, spinning until the lights blurred. I danced with Dan, who moved with enthusiastic energy. I danced with Marcus, who held a steady rhythm that kept me grounded even while jumping.
Then, Alex stepped in. He tapped Marcus on the shoulder. Marcus looked deflated, but stepped back.
Alex moved with a fluid grace that made the chaotic music seem to slow down around him. He took my hand, spinning me out and pulling me back in with perfect tension.
"You dance well," I laughed, breathless.
"I had lessons," Alex smiled, his blue eyes catching the lights. "Ballroom. Salsa. Tango. It's just mechanics, Lonna. Weight transfer and momentum."
I giggled. "Of course you did. I would expect nothing less of a modern day prince."
He dipped me low, then pulled me back up so we were chest to chest. "You look incredible," he said, his voice cutting through the noise. "The glitter works."
My face flushed as Alex spun me one last time.
Then I looked up at the railing of the VIP balcony. Dressed in all black, was Julian. He wasn't drinking or talking to anyone. He stood there, hands gripping the rail, looking down at the dance floor.
With the low lighting in here, he looks like a floating head.
I laughed at the simile, while also trying to cover it with my hand.
His eyes were locked on me.
"I'm going to go tell Julian he looks like a floating head from here in all of that black," I said with amusement to Alex as I leaned in for him to hear me.
Alex looked up at Julian and said, "He's probably waiting. Go."
"And if I'd rather stay?"
Alex smiled, pulled me close and whispered in my ear, "Then come back."
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Timeline: 23:00
Location: The VIP Mezzanine
I walked up the metal stairs, my boots clanging against the treads. The mezzanine was quieter. The bass vibrated the floor rather than the air. As I walked up to the railing, he kept his gaze fixed on the churning crowd below.
"You're just standing there," I said, leaning against the rail next to him.
"You stand out," Julian said, finally turning his head. He scanned me. He started at the boots, moved up the black chiffon skirt, lingered on the silver sequins, and finally met my eyes.
I felt self-conscious. Why did I come up here again?
"The boots were a good choice," he noted. "Practical for stomping."
"Just waiting for the right feet," I said. "Weren't we all supposed to go dancing," I asked.
"I told you. I dislike flailing."
"You're watching."
"I'm assessing the crowd," Julian said, gesturing to the floor below. "Look at them. Three hundred independent variables. Yet, when the beat drops, they synchronize. It's a hive mind."
"Not everyone. There are definitely some people here who have no sense of rhythm no matter how strong the bass is," I quipped. "Still, you should be having fun, Julian. You should at least try it."
"I am having fun," he said. He turned his body fully toward me, blocking out the view of the club. He leaned back against the railing, crossing his arms. "I enjoy watching you," he said simply.
"That sounds creepy…"
"It's observation," he countered. "Down there, you're loose. You're reactive. You let the music drive you. You let Alex lead you."
His eyes darkened. "Up here? With me? You stiffen. Your heart rate spikes. You go on the defensive."
"Because you test me," I said, stepping closer. The alcohol gave me courage. "You take every little moment, smash it into pieces just to see how it works instead of letting it happen. It's like the exact opposite of what you keep telling me to do. You make no sense. It's frustrating." I was rambling.
No, I was getting out some of the things I'd wanted to say.
"I take it apart so I can make it better," Julian said.
He reached out and took the empty glass from my hand, setting it on a nearby table. Then he took my hand.
I expected him to pull me back downstairs, maybe even onto the dance floor. Instead, he pulled me away from the railing, into the shadows of a private booth draped in heavy velvet curtains. The sound of the club muffled instantly.
He sat on an overstuffed leather banquette and pulled me to stand between his knees.
"Sorry, but don't expect me to give you a lapdance," I said with a smirk.
"You wanted me to dance?" he asked, looking up at me.
It took a moment to reset and focus on what he asked. "Yes," I said softly, my skin heating up rapidly.
"I set the tempo," Julian said softly. He placed his hands on my hips, his thumbs pressing into the top of the chiffon skirt. The heat of his palms burned through the fabric.
"You're vibrating again, Lonna."
"The bass is heavy," I lied.
"It's me," he corrected.
He slid his hands up my sides, over the structure of the blazer, until his fingers brushed against my shoulders and the blazer dropped to my elbows, restricting my arm movement.
"You shine down there," Julian whispered. "Everyone looks at you." He tugged at the fabric of the blazer, pulling me a fraction of an inch closer. Then he moved his left hand to my neck and traced a line from below my ear to the base of my throat. I closed my eyes, offering my neck to him the way an animal shows submission.
"Up here… in the dark… I have you to myself. You belong to me."
My breath hitched. He established that while Alex owned the club, Julian owned the shadows.
"Are you going to kiss me?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"Do you want me to?"
"I… I don't know."
"Then no," Julian said.
He released my waist and sat back. "I only kiss you when you can't think about anything else," he said, his voice returning to that cool, arrogant register.
He reached for a bottle of water on the table and cracked the seal. He handed it to me. "Hydrate," he ordered. "You've had two drinks and you've been jumping for an hour. Your electrolytes are low and your tolerance lower."
I stared at him. He had just pulled me into a dark corner, spiked my adrenaline, and now he was acting like my personal trainer.
"You are infuriating, Julian," I said, swiping the water from his hand.
"I'm consistent," Julian smirked. "Go back downstairs. Your friends are looking for you."
"Now you're kicking me out?"
"I'm releasing you," Julian corrected. "For now."
I drank the water, glared at him one last time, and turned to leave the booth.
"Lonna," he called out.
I stopped.
"The silver looks good on you," he said, his voice low in the darkness. "It reflects the chaos perfectly."
I walked back down the stairs. Alex met me at the bottom. He offered his hand.
"Did you get him?" Alex asked.
"No," I said, looking back up at the dark balcony where Julian was once again watching the crowd. "I think he got me."
Alex wrapped an arm around my shoulders to guide me back to the dance floor.
"He usually does."
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Time: 01:30
Dan and Marcus were sitting with mine and Elli's jackets, while we danced and people-watched. For the most part, the GIG and Apex employees left us alone. There was one adorable guy who introduced himself as Alex's assistant. He told me all about how Alex was in People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive" list and there were copies at GIG HQ if I wanted one.
I coyly covered my smile while imagining how Alex probably acquiesced for good company PR. And the assistant confirmed as much. There was a little war where the staff would put out copies in the waiting rooms, which Alex would throw in the recycling if he spotted one.
I looked around the room for him and saw him dancing with Ellie. He was so good to Ellie and Dan, treating them like they were his friends, too. I could see them chatting more than dancing, and I made a note to make Ellie tell me what they were talking about later. The song ended and I headed back to the guys where a craft beer was waiting for me.
Facing the wall, I grabbed my glass that someone had set out for me, but I felt another hand on my wrist. "You've had enough already," Julian said in my ear, guiding my hand down until he could slip the glass tumbler out of it. "We're heading back soon and you still need to entertain me when you get home."
"Who agreed to that?" I challenged.
"You did," he said close to my ear. "Every time you danced for me."