Dance with Me (He's the Boss): A Midnight Frenzy Romance

Chapter 1: The Club

Copyright © 2016 Elle Fielding. Edited by Lili Grouse.

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Brooke

A song made famous by a local DJ pours out of the club as we pull into the parking lot of Midnight Frenzy, the top night spot in Melbourne. It's a Sunday night, but the queue extends past the large wire gate and all the way around the block. According to my best friend Jemma, the club reaches capacity before ten every night. Thank God Jemma works as a dancer here, because I'm pretty certain we'd be waiting all night to get in otherwise. Midnight Frenzy used to be an abandoned car factory a twenty-minute drive south of the Central Business District before Lincoln Rivers got his hands on it a year back. Now it's the place where everyone goes to see and be seen.

"Are you ready to meet Linc Rivers?" Jemma asks me as she pulls into a parking spot reserved for staff.

Am I ready? Not really. Lincoln Rivers, or Linc as Jemma calls him, is supposed to be one of the hottest young bachelors in the country, and the owner of this club, so maybe I should be. However, I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be less. I thought my days of waiting tables and working behind the bar were over with when I got my degree in Business Accounting and landed a job at a small but prestigious firm. Unfortunately, I got laid off two weeks ago.

After two weeks of searching for another accounting job, I'm feeling desperate and more than a little scared. No one seems to be hiring right now. All the accounting firms I checked with are downsizing. With unemployment on the rise, I'm not confident I'll find something in time to pay the rent next month. I could cope with the uncertainty better if it wasn't for my little sister, Belle. There's no way I'm risking getting evicted and losing custody of her.

Jemma waves a hand in front of my face. "Earth to Brooke."

"I'm ready."

Jemma grins at me, then flicks her curly honey-blonde hair over her shoulder and opens her door. I follow suit, sliding out of the car and shutting the door behind me.

The bass of the music reverberates through the asphalt underneath my feet and echoes through my body as we start walking towards the club entrance. I huddle closer to Jemma, freezing in my tiny black skirt, black halter neck top, and ankle boots. My long reddish-brown hair is piled high on my head, exposing my neck to the icy wind. I'm questioning my sanity in letting Jemma dress me up like one of the dolls we used to play with when we were younger. I like the large gold hoops and gold belt she's loaned me, but I just feel so...naked. Not that I have anything suitable for clubbing in my wardrobe. I haven't gone anywhere except work and school since...well, since forever.

"Quit fidgeting, Brooke," Jemma scolds me. "You look great."

"I'm cold."

"You won't be for long, trust me."

"Are you sure what I'm wearing is suitable for a job interview?"

"For a job interview with Lincoln Rivers, yes. If you turned up in one of your business suits, he'd probably send you away without talking to you."

"Isn't there a back entrance employees can use?" I ask when I see we're heading for the front of the club. "I don't want to be spat on or slapped because we're queue-jumping."

"Firstly, we're not queue-jumping."

I point to the people at the front of the queue. "They don't know that."

"Secondly," Jemma continues, "you have a warped impression of people who go clubbing."

"Do I?"

"For someone who has never stepped foot inside a nightclub before, yes."