Seduced by the Italian Billionaire by C J Howard Page A

"Classiest place in Manhattan right here. I knew it'd be like this." She turned to me, grinning. "Good thing we don't even gotta wait. We on the guest list."
                I smiled back, probably the first time I'd smiled in weeks.
                After cutting around a red velvet rope and bypassing the long line of people waiting, we approached a tall blonde woman holding a clipboard by the door, her fake boobs spilling out of the front of her top. Tasha gave her our names and said we were on the list. Without even glancing at it, the blonde lady gave Tasha and me a quick once-over and shook her head.
                "No -- I don't think you are."
                Tasha's head tipped back a degree with each word the woman spoke, as if the woman's words were blows.
                "Excuse me? You mean we're not on the list, or my Bronx accent ain't on the list. Is that what you mean? Because I got a friend who works here, and he said we'd be put on the list."
                I shifted my weight from one high heel to the other, conscious that people in line were staring. And some nearby were whispering and quietly laughing.
                "Tasha, let's just--"
                "No, Felicia. We came here to have a good time, and we ain't leavin'. We are on that list. And Blondie here, is gonna look at it."
                The blonde woman stared straight at Tasha, her red lips fixed in a smirk. "Sorry. Still not on it."
                Tasha snatched the list and scanned it. "Are you kiddin' me? We the first two damn names at the top!"
                The blonde woman flushed pink but didn't apologize, and she still insisted we wouldn't be admitted in. Tasha went on a rant, and as she and the blonde woman argued, I noticed a man, maybe fifteen feet or so away, leaning against the side of the building, dressed in a dark suit and smoking a cigarette. Light from the club's marquee glinted off his dark hair and silhouetted revealed his strong jaw in silhouette. Right away, he noticed me watching him, flicked his cigarette into the street, and began heading over to Tasha, the blonde woman, and me. A slight flutter rippled through my stomach. He was tall, at least an inch or two over six feet, with broad shoulders and a trim waist, and he walked in a confident, purposeful way, head up, long strides, as if he owned the very sidewalk. I found I couldn't take my eyes off him.
                He stopped next to the blonde woman and smiled at her. "Surely you can let these lovely ladies into the club. After all, they say their names are on the list."
                His voice, rich and deep, intensified the fluttering in my stomach.
                The blonde woman sniffed, her red lips forming a pout. "Well, I'm sure you're on the list, but they're not ." She turned her gaze to Tasha and lifted the corners of her mouth in a fake smile. "I'm sorry, but I just can't see them."
                Tasha started to go off again, but the handsome stranger with thick, dark hair cut her off.
                "Maybe you should check the list again." He smiled at the blonde woman, revealing straight, white teeth. "Maybe you should check the list again – just for me."
                Her pout suddenly softened, turning into something like an embarrassed grin.
                "Well, -- fine. They can go in. I guess."
                The dark-haired man smiled at Tasha and me and gestured to the entrance door, which was propped open. "Ladies, after you."
                My face a little warm, I smiled in return and headed inside, half-dragging Tasha as she got off a few parting shots at the blonde woman.
                "Here we go, headin' on inside! Just what I thought!"
                After dropping off Tasha's light wrap at the coat check, walking down a short hallway, and