I Want To Be With You.

I Want To Be With You.

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance


Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance


This is a story based on Angela Valdes and James St. Patrick. The same but spinned a little bit different...how it could be.


This is a story based on Angela Valdes and James St. Patrick. The same but spinned a little bit different...how it could be.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Tonight

Author Chapter Note

This is my story based on Angela Valdes and James St. Patrick. How it could be. <br /> <br /> Enjoy.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: October 15, 2014

Reads: 3687

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: October 15, 2014











He meandered through the space as he's done every night for the past six months...he's prepared for this all his life; midway he stops in his tracks, in the middle of the room his gaze sweeps to the left, the right...ahead, behind.

Yes, everything just so, by design, especially ordered, carefully selected, special editioned, attention to every minute detail from the shape of the expansive bar winding intricately throughout the room, the type of glasses and table tops.  Nothing but the best... from the interior designer to the DJ, even though noone will know they're best until after this night.... They're  fresh, every song specifically selected, a nice mix to suit the clientele, a little hood music, techno rock, old school disco beats, when tonight winds down a little jazz ... chilling music.

Pre determined, precision personified. Everything is up to code and then some. he shakes his head...this is it, damn, the grand opening the night he's dreamed about since his father ... stop it. He caught himself reeling backwards but not tonight, he can't go back to the past.

"Truth  is my present" this time, everything he's done has lead to this moment, he fist pumps high shouts to the ceiling, "Hey dad this one's for you. I did it."

A lot is riding on tonight, all his eggs in one basket..his responsibility because in a few hours this place will be live...the players, ballers, the privileged and underprivileged all vying to pay homage to "Truth's" grand opening at zero thirty.

Tonight is validation of his turf on his terms. By sunrise, the New York Times will review this night with a vote, yay or nay. Its that simple. It will help make or break Truth but for this tonight he's got to make it happen.

 He checks himself...stop thinking about your thinking but the words of his father rings true,

"Short term thinking creates short term results."

Its this trained meta cognition that drives him... its  how he got to this point. That and hard ass work. He tears himself away for some quiet time too much movement makes him nervous.

Six hours to go ......  




He punches in several digits to access a private area that no one yet knows about, not even his manager. It was constructed before anyone was hired, a living loft space that's accessed by his office  ..  not much of a view, there's no full windows but its privacy is well worth it. The loft that no one knows exists, not yet anyway, and if he can swing it no one ever will; definitely not Truth's personnel the entry can only be assessed in a remote section of his office staff isn't aware of....its possible it'll  get out sooner or later but for right now it offers a privacy that's desperately needed. The stairs lead to a generic corridor, the far wall of book shelves  slides,

"Open sesame muthafucker."

He needs to calm himself down he's wired and knows it, he looks at his reflection in the mirror, haggard, he needs rest so he strips down, stretches out, sets the alarm for three hours, close his eyes and rests.  He's done all he can do it won't be a long night just  an important six hour opening to introduce his vision to this big rich town. "Then leave them thirsty  for more"...he glances over at his specially selected suit,

"My oh my how things have changed."


Three hours later

He's back on the floor, one of his carefully chosen waitresses approaches him tenuously,

"Mr. St. Patrick you're needed upstairs."

He sighs audibly, "Thanks Dominique let them know I'm on my way."

She speaks in a Bluetooth latched on an earlobe, "he's in motion."  Dominique can't help it "poetry in motion." she says aloud to no one in particular.  

Another meet and greet otherwise known as ass kissing time he hops up the steps..

"Got to keep it moving.".



In the VIP room, Joshua Kantos is pacing trying hard not to let it show.   He's also a man with a plan ..... and a past. He's good at what he does and that is running the business of Truth.  Before the doors open he's already been about the process of taking it to the next level, national exposure.  After a few years, the islands … a few Caribbean joints. For this, they also need high end venues to entice more clientele to book the club, … he's been in contact with Simon Stern the guru of successful nightclubs. Making noise with him will rain nothing but positive publicity, and money.  But tonight, he's laying the ground work for another important connection.

"He should be here momentarily Ms. Sheridan would you like a drink?" She nods her head affirmative,

"You certainly have put a lot into this Mr. Kantos."


He makes a Cosmopolitan without asking he read its one of her favorites. Cynthia Sheridan, a cool as a cucumber red headed, exquisitely dressed, early forty something high brow type who never stops flirting,

"Kantos it is." 

As a powerful business prospect he has a promising proposition, Cynthia Sheridan was especially invited to meet them prior to the opening hour for a look-see. She brings to the table the A-List crowd, that gives that elite status they're desparately must have without doing all the grunt work.  Her co-signing will give Truth publicity on a silver platter without spending a dime.

He hands her a Cosmo, prepared exactly how she likes it, then treads lightly, the woman is a pro she's use to this shit,

"The lifespan of a club is hard to predict some stay on top for years, even decades … while others fizzle out. Ms. Sheridan, we don't want that for Truth."


"Cynthia it is."

While Cynthia walks about the VIP section sipping he pulls back on the hard sell, flips through a magazine he'll leave for James to peruse at his leisure.  James St. Patrick gave him this second chance, a new beginning he literally wiped his tainted slate clean. He respects the man, so yes, tonight must go without a hitch and he's done everything possible to make sure that happens.  That means no hiccups, no missteps, he's got a lot riding on tonight, his future with Truth. Yeah he took a chance on him, but Jamie is new to the nightclub game his philosophy,  "we stay in business if the music is hot, the women hotter and make it damn near impossible to get in this fucking door."

Those are parts of it but eight out of ten night clubs fail within the first eighteen months and they had hot music, hot women with a best location, his job is to make sure Truth isn't one of them.

And it begins tonight with Cynthia Sheridan.




 Earlier that day 


Angela picks up the vibrating cell from her coffee table, its a text from her college roommate.

"Its 2:30 so start thinking about what you're wearing tonight."

She texts back in capital letters, "WORKING."  A few minutes later, the damn thing rings.

She props both feet on the edge of the table to brace herself she already knows what the script will be, shit.  Here we go....

"Nope not tonight you're taking that pony tail down and going out with us, this time. I'm your mejor amiga, no excuses."

Its times like this she wishes she never taught her Spanish, "Don't start, I've got piles staring at me .. this is a working weekend, I have no..." She's cut off.

"All of ours are working that's the whole point besides I'm wallowing in self-pity and I need a come up."

 Oh oh, she's using street lingo, trying to be fly, its serious. "What wallowing?  Why?"

"I'm breaking off with that male model person from across the pond."

Angela  shakes her head, "How can you break up with a man you've refused to go out with."

"I'm breaking from the thought of going out with him is what I mean. Seriously, lets party. its been months for both of us, we need it; I want to escape."

Can't argue with that, this new position is zapping the wind right out of her, there hasn't been much of a personal life to speak of, with her friend in the same boat, her point is well made and E. knows it, but Angela can't help but turn the screw,  

"I'll think about it."

"Some place hot: music blasting, good drinks, eye candy, dancing, lots and lots of dancing.  Did I say lots and lots of men?"

Poor Elizabeth, the Ice Princess wants some heat, she's desperately trying to win but its a losing battle,

"Elle, and when was it exactly, the last time you got sexed?  Umm.. A year ago? Lots of hot men won't make you forget him.  He sounds sincere enough just give the guy a break, see what he's about."

She doesn't need to see it to know Elle is wearing her bitch please face,  "You're being mean to me I'm hanging up; 2230 hours I'll be downstairs, see you later."

She isn't surprised the subject was changed, Elle is not only the porcelain princess of ice but the queen of digression. Why won't she go out with that fine specimen behooves her. The woman has some kind of complex .... her eyes drift to the variety of stacks before her.  By 10:30 she'll be too exhausted to go anywhere ... maybe playing hooky for the rest of today is a better idea …. get a quick run in...maybe by tonight.....

She does as she's told, sprints to the closet to sort out something to wear, maybe that new dress she bought a couple of years ago.




Kantos eyes James heading to the back of the club,  "Where you going?  What happened?"  Kantos left the meeting to give James his space to size up Cynthia Sheridan.

"Yeah...she lost a venue at the last minute."  He escorted her through the club.... pointing out advantages, answering questions, allaying concerns.  "When all was said and done she agreed to let Truth host the Vogue event."  He high fives Kantos, "We're in."

Standing still has always made James uncomfortable,  "Look we'll have a sit down, go over details, bottom line, its the same ole shit warmed over.  Lets make a deal. She's impressed, we can work together, hey, how about you give me a big fat discount...I agreed to some concessions to pull her in, we'll still make a stack of money, and..... if we do well with this one, who knows." 
Kantos keeps  pressing it, "we've had the best new club intro all year the buzz for tonight has exceeded my expectations ..."

He's half-assed listening, while Kantos goes on and on...

"This. Cynthia Sheridan can take us to paradise ... with venues like her Sutton Place Party, Tribecca films, Fashion week, Hot Lists, the Vogue deal will put us on the....." 

"Man slow the fuck down, lets get this club open, and do tonight,"  James looks at his watch even though its a big clock, on the wall.

"Its Showtime." 



Angela quickly takes a last look, grabs her keys, walks out to a waiting taxi with Elle in it, "You look beautiful."

"Thank you, so Missy where are you taking beautiful me." 

"We're meeting the girls there, well, two of them anyway, West 46th Street midtown."

Half an hour later they sit with Rio, Melanie has drifted off somewhere.  They barely finish a first round waiting for another when she returns whispering, "Don't look now but Mr. Tight ass is right over there and he's coming over here."  

 Rio bucks her eyes. "Are you sure Elle?  You wanted hot, damn girl, there's  6'3 inches of it coming right at ya."

"He looks like he's got a big dick." is all Melanie added to the conversation.

Elle rolls her eyes while trying to think of a derogatory remark that'll take him down a peg  she confronts him without a hello,

"Well, well if it isn't Model Dave standing tall in all his glory. Oh excuse me, that was when you were wearing bespoked drawers." 

The statement irks the Englishman, not because its crass, but he knows what she's doing, its to hurt his feelings
 he's not flustered, 

"Most of my profession is about playing a part, you know, an image but that's not necessarily me."

"Oh Applesauce, cut the bullshit, I Googled your ass and you're in categories, year, girlfriend each year its a different woman.

"Well I guess you missed the book I wrote."

Oh shit, its on....Rio, and Angela fall back; Melanie stays put a front row seat .... ding, ding, ding .

"Well guess again playa, I'm not the one, this years' version won't be me. So you might as well go on about your business peddling underwear."  Elle huffs and puffs, green eyes blazing.  

Angela looks back at model Dave, he's left an indelible mark on her, its not the matter of if, only when, and how she's going to fold ... but she's got to give her props she's fighting it every step of the way but she's going down.

"We're not compatible."

"How would you know?"  He retorts. 

Angela is on the sidelines listening to them go at it, on anybody else this would be a bad look, but petite Elle makes motherfucker sound ethereal.  Angie's head whips from left to right like she's at tennis match at each slug, Mr. Male Model is winning this round.

With lack of a snappier comeback Elle gives it all she's got,  "You're stalking me."Poor Elizabeth after all the machinations to pull tonight off, the source of her frustration stands right in front of her.  Elle's gathering up coats and purse, concedes as best she can to save face,

"We won't have fun here, lets' go somewhere else there's a new place in the meat packing district opening tonight."  For someone who doesn't go out much she's well informed. 

Rio's eyes questioned "Why?" 

Elle flips her auburn blotnnd highlighted mane not waiting for the verbal cue she looks at Melanie, Rio, then Angela, "Why can't you see it?  He's a heartbreaker."


Fifteen Minutes Later

"Wow, this place looks crowded it seems like a pretty big thing." Angela says.

There's a long line stretching several yards down, people hopping out of SUV's cars, Limos, vintage European, restored American: Jaguars, Bugatti's, Corvettes, Cadillacs,  ...cabs, the press out in full force with microphones, flash bulbs popping...but Elle is still determined to have a good time. They look lost in the shuffle.

With her bitch face on full display, "Angela we're fine, we'll get in; I'm dropping names, the music sounds good and I'm ready to dance that limey off me. he's not spoiling tonight."

With determination, she hands over the fare, jumps out and marches to the head of the line like she has a reservation. After a few words, Elle returns, 

"We're in, well, when it opens we are."

Angela knows the names she used. In all the years they've been friends she's never known Elle to throw her family's weight around.  Yeah, the girl's got it bad.  "So what's the name of this place?"  asks Angela.

Rio points to the lighted sign, "Its right here..... Truth." 

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