Page 8 of Breaking Vincent

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Page 8 of Breaking Vincent

I don’t bring a bag or coat with me to work as the only thing I need is my phone and my earpiece in case I need to call for help if shit kicks off, plus, the club runs really fucking hot so I’m fine with wearing my black shirt and faux leather trousers and boots.

My boss walks towards me, he clamps one of his massive hands around my shoulder and leans down to talk in my ear, “My men are coming in soon, when you spot them, will you tell them to head to my office, please?” The club is getting louder and he has to shout the last few words, so I can hear him.

The slight jab of jealousy makes my chest ache for a second. I don’t even have one man and this lucky bastard has two.

I nod my head, “Sure thing.”

William squeezes my shoulder, “Thanks man. Call me if you need me. Toms working the floor with you tonight by the way.”

Great. The guys a prick, but since it’s only the two of us on the ground floor, he should be too busy to try and fuck with me.

It doesn’t take long for the club to fill up to max capacity and the front desk has to start turning people away. Most of them head off without much trouble, but a few men try to kick up a fuss.

Especially like the guy I’m dealing with now. He’s on the shorter side like me, but dressed in the tiniest booty shorts and he’s shirtless. His attitude reeks of entitlement.

Don’t get me wrong, I like brats - love them even, but not ones like this who think the world should fall to their feet just because they're gorgeous.

I stand in the door frame, blocking the way inside the main club. “Listen mate, you’re not coming in. We’re maxed out and it’s a safety risk having any more people come in.”

The twink scoffs, “So kick someone out. I deserve to be here more than most of those people. Do you know who I am?”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t care who you are. Unless you booked a room or scene ahead of time, you’re not getting in.”

The man screeches, the high-pitched scream making my head throb. “Fuck you. fuck you and your shitty ass club. I’m writing about this to all my fans on Instagram, and then nobody will want to come to this shithole.”

He twirls around and stomps away from the reception desk, slamming the door shut on his way out.

I turn around and look at Bowie who’s working the desk tonight. He’s a sweetheart. I had only been working at the club for a week or so, before he started, and it's been nice having a newbie here with me.

His face is flushed, either in anger or embarrassment. “Are you alright? Did he give you any shit before I got here?” I ask.

Bowie nods his head and clears his throat a few times. “I’m alright. The guy was being an ass because I told him he couldn’t come in. Thank you for showing up when you did, I was about to call for someone to come and help.”

I feel bad when anyone is mean to Bowie, he’s a year or so older than me, but he’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.

“Luckily, it was me who came and not Tom.”

Bowie laughs because he knows what Tom is like and he agrees the guy is a wanker as well.

The front door opens and two guys walk in.

“Ah Bowie, am I happy to see you!” Jamie happily cheers.

Justin follows Jamie as he scrambles to the desk to chat with Bowie.

“Hey, William mentioned to tell you guys to head to his office when you arrived,” I tell Justin. I quickly whisper to Bowie, “If anyone else comes in and gives you shit, just buzz me.”

Bowie smiles and nods his head before chatting with Jamie again, something about a website and its new members. I leave the guys to it and head back to the main room, checking that all the members are having a good time.

The next few hours drag and when it’s time to finally head out, I spot William leaving his office and locking the door.

He catches up to me and says, “Just thought I’d let you know that we’re going to put a social board in the reception area. You know events and resources, things like that. Would you mind just taking a stack of these flyers and leaving them on the front desk on your way out?”

He hands the papers to me and then we part ways and I head to the front of the building.

Bowie is still sitting at the desk and the overhead lights are off, just a lamp on low, casting a warm glow across the room.

“Hey Bowie, William just asked me to drop these off.” I drop the bulk of the flyers on the desk. “Something about a social board.”




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