“Hey hey, hey,” Marco stopped me. “Everything okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “What’s wrong—Nirah, you’re shaking.”
“Please Marco, I need a favor,” I said before looking around as the music boomed and strobe lights flickered all around.
“Anything.”
I reached up, holding the back of his neck, and lifted my lips to his ear. “You see the guy in the back? He’s wearing a black baseball cap at table 9.”
Marco looked over and nodded.
“He can’t come into the club anymore. Please, get him out,” I tried to steady my voice and looked up at Marco, feeling my legs go numb.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, and I glanced up at him.
“Not yet but…” I trailed off, but Marco shook his head, not needing to hear anymore.
“Done.”
“I’m sorry, I know he’s a customer and—”
“I don’t want anyone in my club who hurts my girls. Got that?” he asked, and I nodded. “If you want him gone, he’s gone. I’ll let security know.”
He hesitantly pulled away, but I assured him that I was okay.
Wrapping my arms around my bare stomach, I watched Marco leave and head straight for Sylvester’s table. They had a heated conversation, and Marco grabbed Sylvester by his collar, making my heart race in anticipation. They shared a few words until security arrived, practically throwing Sylvester out of the club.
“Hey,mi amor,” Silvia teased, walking toward me with a drink, but her face softened with concern. “What’s wrong?”
I nodded my head toward Sylvester, and she scoffed. “It’s what that asshole deserves,” she shook her head. “Actually, no. He deserves a lot worse.” She took my face in her hand and turned my head. “He’s not ruining your night, okay?”
With a deep, calming breath in, I slowly nodded.
Silvia and I proceeded to enjoy the rest of our night, and I saw a text from Jordan that I had missed. He let me know that he’d pick me up in the next hour or so.
“Are you two talking yet?” she slyly asked, peaking over my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I cleared my throat, whipping around as I hid my phone behind my back, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Really?” she scoffed—clearly not believing me. “Because a‘Be there in an hour’ text doesn’t really sound like the ‘Nirah and Jordan’ relationship I know.”
“He’s just… mad at me, I guess,” I sadly admitted. Jordan had spotted Antonio and I together a few times at the club, and when I disappeared—to Antonio’s place—he quickly put two and two together.
“Because of Mr. Hottie?” she asked, and I nodded. “Yeah, I figured. I understand where he’s coming from.”
“What?”
“I mean, think about it,” she paused. “Jordan has been your go-to guy for years, and suddenly, some random hot guy shows up, and he knows more about you than Jordan himself does?” she rhetorically asked, and I pondered on her words for a second. “Jordan’s jealous, and I completely understand.”
“I’m not replacing Jordan with some guy I met, just because he’s hot.”
“Does Jordan know that?”
In guilt, I shook my head.No, he does not. “Well, make sure he knows.”
“I will.”
“And, now, would be a good time to do that since they both just walked in through the door,” she nodded behind me.
“What?” My eyes shot open as I whipped around. She was right. Antonio and Jordan both stepped foot into the club, looking around. “Christ,” I groaned, hurrying over and Silvia followed behind me. “That was fast,” I said to Jordan, and he gave me a single nod.
