The Willingness to Burn by J. P. London Read Free Book Online Page A

same people would open similar clubs in different or sometimes even the same location, rename it, and popularity would soar again. And they were in the mist of the address naming phase. 212, 517, 306. All clubs booming right now on the simple idea that names were overrated. It was the experience. And also easy to find.
    The music blared, and the crowded establishment was nearing its capacity as was evident by the line to get in. The bass vibrated everything. Jace made a B-line to the VIP section which was the only place for two men who just took down eight-hundred grand each.
    The bouncer stopped Jace at the VIP, and before he could explain that he was with a group that was without a doubt buying the place out, he saw Dexter with his face in a short brunette’s chest. Oh god, already ? Jace looked down at his watch and saw that it was only nine o’clock, and he knew just what Dexter was doing. Dexter then turned, looking out with a big smile on his face and saw Jace. His expression immediately changed to one of pleasant surprise, like a kid discovering an unopened gift that had been hidden deep in a Christmas tree. Dexter screamed something at the top of his lungs, which was muted by the music, then rushed over to the bouncer. Jace gave up on explaining himself and just pointed to the incoming drunkard.
     
    Dexter side-stepped the large man and grabbed Jace, giving him a big hug, and pulled him into the VIP.
    Upon reaching the table, Jace saw that they had literally bought out the entire bar, getting one of every bottle they had to offer and a few more bottles of vodka. The seven masters of the universe were surrounded by no less than fifteen beautiful women. It was referred to as a models and bottles party in the industry.
    After shaking hands with a few other guys at the firm, Mark grabbed Jace and pulled him in close.
    “How did it go?” he shouted in his ear.
    “Locked down.”
    “Signed and sealed?”
    “You bet.”
    “You’re a fucking beast!”
    Mark pulled Jace in a headlock and Jace saw the pile of coke sitting on the glass VIP table. Mark’s enthusiasm was obviously fueled by more than just vodka.
    The ready-made pile of white on the table began calling his name. Although Jace was able to avoid it for a while, he should have expected to see it there that night. But what was he going to do? Not go to Dexter’s celebration? That would just be rude.
    Jace was always amazed by how the legit, successful establishments would just let them act like they owned the place. And for the price of ten to twenty grand a night, he supposed they didn’t care. They would turn a blind eye to coke, hookers, anything. It was all in the name of business, and as he poured a drink and really thought about it, that was why they were the “it” spot of the season, and in all likelihood the reason why they never stayed open for that long—they let lunatics act like they were above the law.
    Jace sat down, and almost as though they were assigned, a model, a skinny Russian girl, sat on his lap and introduced herself. She was Natalia, an aspiring ass model for Calvin Kline from Brooklyn. She loved the city and hated fur. Typical model , he thought. 
    Mark lined up two rails of coke on the table and motioned to Jace, to which Jace gritted his teeth and politely declined. The bitter nostalgic taste of coke crept into his mouth, and a flood of anxious energy washed over him. He knew that Mark could sense that in him. As an avid user, Mark would sense the weakness and would eventually convince Jace to take another ride on the white dragon. Mark was his boss, after all, although be it in a limited capacity nowadays. Mark was just a few short steps away from being partner at that point, and it was important to stay on his good side.
    The hours passed, and as they came and went, so did more bottles, more coke, and more models. Jace was well plied by Ciroc and Mark stood over Kendra, a tall European girl who had moved to New York a few