“Are we in?” I asked, taking Dru’s hand.
“We are in,” Dru said with a smile.
“Have a good time, Miss Holmes,” the bouncer said, stepping aside to let us pass as the crowd booed our preferential treatment. Someone yelled, “FUCK YOU, SLUT!” I took it as confirmation that my disguise was working. The other bouncer opened the door and gave us a little bow as we went inside.
We were immediately assaulted with a wave of bass that felt like a concussion grenade going off. The music was so loud I could feel it vibrating through my entire body.
We stood at the door for a moment, giving our eyes time to adjust to the darkness. The dancefloor was already packed. Hundreds of dancers jumped up and down and swayed to the driving beat.
I held on tight to Dru’s hand and let her lead the way. She elbowed a path up to the bar and ordered a beer for herself, and a wine cooler for me.
“Do you think he’s here?” I asked, tilting the wine cooler to my lips and surveying the crowd. I had never been to a New York dance club and boy, was I out of my element.
I was starting to doubt my own plan when I spotted him, Sean Donovan, sitting at a table on a raised tier between four girls with boobs bigger than mine. The table was covered with empty beer bottles and shot glasses. A very large black man stood between the dancers and the VIP area where Sean was holding court.
“There he is,” I said nervously. “What do I do?”
Dru lifted the sunglasses to the top of her head and said, “You go over, you give him the card and flash him your tits, just like we planned.”
“Got it. Give him the card and flash my tits. Wish me luck.”
I took a long swig of the wine cooler, followed by a deep breath, and started making my way across the dance floor. It seemed to take forever, pushing my way through the crowd. When I finally emerged on the other side of the crowd, I nearly stumbled and fell into Sean’s bodyguard’s thick arms.
“VIP area, Miss,” he said with a frown that almost made me pee my panties. “Step away.”
I swallowed the lump that had lodged in my throat and held up the card. He glanced at it for a moment, then I saw his eyes widen when he saw the Playboy bunny logo.
“I’m Katie Holmes,” I shouted in his ear. “I was a Playboy Playmate. I want to talk to Sean.”
I hoped it didn’t sound as silly to him as it did to me. I gave him my best smile and stuck out my tits. His eyes immediately went from my face to my tits and lingered there for a moment. He looked at the card again and said, “Hang on.”
I held my breath as he turned toward the table and handed my card to Sean. This was the closest I’d ever come to seeing Sean Donovan in person, and I was immediately struck at how good looking he was.
His pictures didn’t do him justice.
He had dark hair and dark eyes, a Kennedy jawline, and a smile that made me tingle when he looked past the bouncer to check me out. When he gave the bouncer a nod and waved me over, I felt my knees wobble a little; and I didn’t think it was from the shoes.
“Girls, go dance,” Sean said, shooing the four groupies away. They didn’t argue. They scooted out of the booth and disappeared onto the dancefloor like good little fuck-bots.
He lifted himself up and held out his hand, directing me to sit in the booth beside him.
“Mr. Donovan, I’m…”
“Katie Holmes,” he said with a smile. He let his eyes go around my face and cleavage for a moment. He licked his lips like a hungry animal. “You look so much different in person. What’s it like being married to Tom Cruise?”
“Oh, no, I’m not the actress,” I said, shaking my head. Jesus, how stupid or drunk was this guy?
“I’m joking,” he said, giving me a toothy grin. “You must get that a lot.”
“Oh, yes.” I rolled my eyes. “Mr. Donovan, the reason why I wanted to—“
“Sean,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“Call me Sean. Hang on…”
He surveyed the empty glasses and bottles on the table, then called out to the bodyguard. “Ron, get us another round of drinks, please. And something for yourself.”