Post by Stella Keegan on May 18, 2011 23:29:56 GMT -5
Stella walked into her office, suddenly overwhelmed by the amount of paperwork was piled on the old mahogany desk. She sighed inwardly, placing a finger on a pile of papers a few inches high. She wondered vaguely as to how the hell on night club could accumulate so much paperwork. She had only been gone for a week. Stella huffed, turning on her heel, into the workers area. The back room was bustling, as it normally was this time of night. They were an hour away from opening, and there was still a lot to be done. It was painfully obvious that her employees had been slacking off while she had taken her trip. Which would have been longer had she not had her witch ring stolen from her. The sudden onslaught of this memory made her even more irate than she already was. She stormed into the loud dressing rooms, and upon her sudden presence, there was silence. There were twelve pairs of eyes on her, awaiting her next move. She was searching for one pair in particular, the person they belonged to being her assistant. She met his eyes, finally, and saw the shame in them. She had asked him to do a simple task, and he had failed her. She strolled casually up to him, looking him in the eye. She was shorter than him, by nearly five inches, but was at eye level due to her heels. And that wasn’t something that he wanted. Stella gave him a sweet smile, which he didn’t return. “What have you been up to, darling?” She asked, reaching out and softly touching his arm. She ran one finger down his skin, and felt his goose bumps. A year in her club, and her touch still affected him so. She looked down to his hand, and then grasped it firmly. “Come now. We must talk.” She said, leading him out of the dressing room. He was like her little puppy, in more ways than one. The man was a werewolf, and a damn sexy one at that. This fact made resisting him a difficult task for Stella, especially when giving into such temptations was something she advocated. She hadn’t though, wanting to keep him around. When he wasn’t slacking off, he did a good job.
She pulled him into the office, her eyes on the paperwork. He knew what he had done wrong; she need not say a word. “I want it finished. When I leave you to take care of Rumors, I expect you to do just that. Take care of what needs to be taken care of. Not flirting with the girls.” She said, walking back up to him. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, his stubble scratching her. She mumbled to herself, before speaking up to him. ”Armani, you really should start listening to me. I wouldn’t be so angry with you all the time.” Armani wasn’t his real name, Michael was. But the two had found Michael to be boring. Normal. And he loved his Armani suits. Stella had called him by that name one night, and it had stuck. She touched his cheek softly, before chuckling to herself. “I’m going to stay in the front tonight. Meet some new people, if I can. You stay in the back, and make sure things run smoothly. If you need me, come get me. And do get the work done. I want to hire a few new girls, and need the paperwork done before I can do that. That should be motivation enough for you. Now run along. I need something to drink before the night starts. Tell Jacob to send me some vodka. I don’t care which kind, just make sure it’s the expensive kind.” She said to him, as he walked slowly out the door. He cast a glance back at her, and then nodded. She sighed, wishing he would speak. Armani had come to Stella a year and half ago, broken, beaten. He was literally within an inch of his life. And she had saved him. Stella had taken him in, and nursed him back to health. Helped him cope with the fact that he was no longer human, but a werewolf. But the poor thing hadn’t spoken a word since the day she had found him. She had thought that his vocal chords had been ruined in the attack, but she had taken him to the doctors. Nothing was wrong. He was just refusing to talk. Which she accepted with stride. He would talk when he was ready.
She sat down gracefully in her office chair, sinking into the soft leather. It was going to be a long night. She looked up again, as Armani walked back in to the office, the bottle of vodka in one hand, and a glass in another. “Would you like some shots as well?” She asked. He considered the bottle and the glass, then her, before nodding. Stella smiled mischievously; she knew he couldn’t resist. And perhaps she could get him to say something. However much she wished to leave well enough alone, she wanted desperately to know whether the voice matched the rugged exterior. They took four shots each, and still, silence. Stella leaned back, shaking her head. “Back to work, darling. It’s a new night.”It was close to opening time, and she didn’t have any more time for games. Her customers needed her. And she would answer their calls.
Another interesting night. She stood up, leaving Armani to his devices, and the paperwork. Hopefully he would actually finish it. Stella made her way to the bar, the opening music thrumming through her. Five until opening, and there was already a line outside. Her club was exclusive, those who were lucky enough to get in, well, weren’t disappointed by what was inside. She didn’t like to boast, but found herself talking about the success of her club constantly. She watched as the first few people were let in through the front door, already moving to the music. The night had begun. And she was ready for it.
She pulled him into the office, her eyes on the paperwork. He knew what he had done wrong; she need not say a word. “I want it finished. When I leave you to take care of Rumors, I expect you to do just that. Take care of what needs to be taken care of. Not flirting with the girls.” She said, walking back up to him. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, his stubble scratching her. She mumbled to herself, before speaking up to him. ”Armani, you really should start listening to me. I wouldn’t be so angry with you all the time.” Armani wasn’t his real name, Michael was. But the two had found Michael to be boring. Normal. And he loved his Armani suits. Stella had called him by that name one night, and it had stuck. She touched his cheek softly, before chuckling to herself. “I’m going to stay in the front tonight. Meet some new people, if I can. You stay in the back, and make sure things run smoothly. If you need me, come get me. And do get the work done. I want to hire a few new girls, and need the paperwork done before I can do that. That should be motivation enough for you. Now run along. I need something to drink before the night starts. Tell Jacob to send me some vodka. I don’t care which kind, just make sure it’s the expensive kind.” She said to him, as he walked slowly out the door. He cast a glance back at her, and then nodded. She sighed, wishing he would speak. Armani had come to Stella a year and half ago, broken, beaten. He was literally within an inch of his life. And she had saved him. Stella had taken him in, and nursed him back to health. Helped him cope with the fact that he was no longer human, but a werewolf. But the poor thing hadn’t spoken a word since the day she had found him. She had thought that his vocal chords had been ruined in the attack, but she had taken him to the doctors. Nothing was wrong. He was just refusing to talk. Which she accepted with stride. He would talk when he was ready.
She sat down gracefully in her office chair, sinking into the soft leather. It was going to be a long night. She looked up again, as Armani walked back in to the office, the bottle of vodka in one hand, and a glass in another. “Would you like some shots as well?” She asked. He considered the bottle and the glass, then her, before nodding. Stella smiled mischievously; she knew he couldn’t resist. And perhaps she could get him to say something. However much she wished to leave well enough alone, she wanted desperately to know whether the voice matched the rugged exterior. They took four shots each, and still, silence. Stella leaned back, shaking her head. “Back to work, darling. It’s a new night.”It was close to opening time, and she didn’t have any more time for games. Her customers needed her. And she would answer their calls.
Another interesting night. She stood up, leaving Armani to his devices, and the paperwork. Hopefully he would actually finish it. Stella made her way to the bar, the opening music thrumming through her. Five until opening, and there was already a line outside. Her club was exclusive, those who were lucky enough to get in, well, weren’t disappointed by what was inside. She didn’t like to boast, but found herself talking about the success of her club constantly. She watched as the first few people were let in through the front door, already moving to the music. The night had begun. And she was ready for it.
