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I finished my drink and yelled a “Thank you” at him.
“Welcome to Club Nymph” He yelled back at me while I grabbed my purse.
I repeated the words to myself…
“Welcome to Club Nymph.”
I decided to use the front exit of the club. My towering heels were killing me—I didn’t want to walk all the way to the staff entry. I gave a small smile to the security guy who was standing at the door. I tried to look friendly enough but he wasn’t buying it. He was so tall and muscular, I barely reached his chest. Wearing a black suit with a black t-shirt, he reminded me one of those guys I have seen in the mafia movies.
I cleared my throat to get his attention as he clearly ignored me.
“Hi, I’m Violet. I’m new here and Mr. Harrison said I must use the club car to go home,” I said.
He finally looked at me, almost reluctantly, and with a brief nod he reached inside of his jacket for his phone.
“Zac, Miss Violet needs a ride,” he said coldly and with another nod to my way he opened the door for me.
“Thank you. Goodnight,” I said without him acknowledging me.
The cold air hit me hard when I stepped outside, causing me to tug my jacket tighter around me to feel a little warmer but there was no such luck. It was the coldest October I had witnessed in Seattle within the last six years. A shiver shook my body but I wasn’t sure if the actual reason was the cold. Feeling like I was being watched I scanned my surroundings for something, or someone, that gave me the chills. But there was nothing except the wheezing sound of the wind, darkness that surrounded the alley and bumping sound of the music that came from the club—I was alone outside. I shook my head to ease my paranoia.
Fortunately, before I froze or got even more anxious, a black SUV stopped in front of me and a guy got out from the driver’s seat.
“Hello, Miss Violet. I’m Zac, the club’s driver,” he said politely and extended his hand toward me for me to shake.
“Hi, Zac. Nice to meet you and please just call me just Violet,” I said, my teeth were chattering because of the cold. It was hard to talk.
“Okay, Violet. Before you freeze standing out there, let’s get you inside the car,” he said in a friendly tone. I happily jumped into the backseat of the car and purred when I felt the welcoming warmth. It felt like a blanket.
Zac got in the driver’s seat and smiled at me genuinely. Thank Goodness! He didn’t seem like the security guy at all.
A few seconds later, I heard Zac chuckle. Looking at him curiously, I tried to figure out what he thought was funny.
“Not talkative, hmm?” he asked.
“The security guy didn’t seem like much of a talker so I assumed you might not want me to talk, either,” I said smiling.
“Oh, you have met Frankenstein. Well, that explains why you look like a high school girl in detention.”
“Frankenstein? I think you’ve lost me there.”
“Frank. The security guy. Everyone calls him Frankenstein,” he explained and I started to laugh.
“Okay, I admit. He was…intimidating.”
“He has to be. He is the security guy and an ex-army. But don’t take it personally, he doesn’t talk to anyone,” he explained and I just nodded.
“Well, where do you need to go?” he asked casually. He seemed easy-going.
“Pike Street, please” I answered.
“Hmm, good place.”
I agreed with him. Feeling too tired to chat I have put my head to the cold glass of the window.
“You look exhausted.” Zac observed.
“I am exhausted. I was nervous if I would get the job—it wore me down,” I answered honestly.
