My inspiration for this story is basic,  I didn't want Jamie stuck married with children its that simple.  It follows the theme of the show but a little bit different.  I wanted to include all the characters from Season 1 and  trying something new to challenge myself, 

My first attempt to blend hood fiction (aka Urban fiction) with my favorite dream couple.... Elizabeth and David will serve as plot points to help drive story.  I'm pretty nervous about this one hope you like it I'm publishing the Elizabeth/David centric chapters here ... And yes they will have a spin off fiction of their own. Where Jamela will serve as plot points...CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM WELCOMED!   Its the only way to make the story better.  

The story can be read directly@ BooksieSilk website or as a PDF   Also RSS feed is available at  Booksie.   Zoom your browser window 125% if the font is too small.

This is gritty urban fiction based on Starz' Power so its a lot of cussin' and fussin' explicit sex scenes OK? So if you're not into that genre of storytelling this isn't the story for you. 

Chapters:  1 - Tonight, 2 - Zero Thirty, 3 - Here's the Boss, 4 - Memories of  Us,  5 - All Hands on Deck,  6 - Dream Catcher,  7 - So You Really Want to Party?  8 - The Road Not Traveled,
 9 - A Matter of Time, 10 - Ice, 11 - Lover's Holiday, 12 Cookies and Milk

Coming Soon Chapter 13 - Rain

Music Sheet:  Chapters 1-4 and Chapters 5-8  Chapters 9-12.   For those of you who live outside of US and can't get Spotify  like Latoya from Jamaica three of Ch 9-12 songs are here on the mix.

Chapter 1. Tonight

These are excerpts from a fan-fiction I'm writing...Elizabeth Webber "Elle" and David Gandy are supporting characters in the story...I found a way to get my dream couple via fan fiction. This first excerpt is when Elle and friends are out and about on a Friday night and... Beware: Elizabeth  is nothing like she is portrayed on General Hospital.  

Yes, this is a plot-point for their own story  ....  which is coming soon.

Excerpt I.  

He meanders  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... it's 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 his partner.  It was constructed before anyone was hired, a living loft space that's accessed by his office office only   .. 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 but 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."

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."

"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, a definite  must have to compete in this business,  without doing all the grunt work.  Her co signing Truth hands 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."

"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."

Angie 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 Angie 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, 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 issues.... 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.

 "güerita," Angela mumbles.  

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, so 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-ass 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 keys coat and rushes 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're sitting with Rio, Melanie has drifted off somewhere barely finishing 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."  

"What the... ,"  she's rattled, but beautiful, true Elle, she got over it real quick pulling herself together for battle.  

Rio bucks her eyes. "Are you sure?  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."  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, my mistake, that was when you were wearing your bespoked drawers." 

The statement irks the Englishman not because its crass but he knows what she's doing stooping to name calling  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 front and center  .... 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 of 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 a matter of if but when ...  and how she's going to fold ...  got to give her props though she's fighting it every step of the way.  Where's the popcorn.

"We're not compatible."

"How would you know?"  He retorts.

Angela is on the sidelines watching them go at it, on anybody else this would be a bad look, however on petite Elle, she makes motherfucker sound ethereal.   Angela's head whips from left to right like a 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, the source of her frustration stands right before her. Elle' picking up coats and purses concedes as best she can, "We won't have fun here, lets' go somewhere else there's a new place across town opening tonight."  For someone who doesn't go out much she's well informed. 

Elle flips her auburn blond highlighted mane not waiting for the verbal cue

Rio's eyes questioned "Why?"

she looks at Melanie, Rio, then Angela,

 "Why can't you all see  it.  "He's a heart breaker."

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, Cadillac,  ...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 don't worry about that; I'm dropping names.  The music sounds good and I'm ready to dance that limey off me.  He's not spoiling it for us 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, I mean when it opens we are.."

Angie 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."  


Chandelier

Chapter 2 Zero Thirty

"To Truth"  

James called a toast; Kantos briefs them on tonight's itinerary, he sounds like a politician running for office, he walks the middle of a circle reinforcing the agenda for tonight,  

"Its all about customer service making our club the talk of this town.  Yes, I say 'our' because we are in this together. I can't run this place by myself, none of us succeed unless this club runs smooth.    

He turns to the waitresses and bartenders, "We have top notch security, if you run into an asshole be discreet,  talk in your Bluetooth we'll be there in seconds to back you up.  You're here because you are the best don't forget that.  

  

Again, if you run into any problems or are confused about anything don't hesitate to ask no matter how big or small. Let's make this place a hit."   

Rory and his security team return to their positions; Kantos calls out, "Open the gates."      

   

James intercedes, "No. Wait. I'll do it."  He wants to be the first to flip the lock and turn the knob,   

   

After all, this is his moment.   

  

Elle and company are sitting at a table in posh surroundings when Angela approaches with her last drink in hand, they've been dancing in the highest of heels all night, the drinks have been flowing and yes the princess wish was granted, lots of hot men. Angela's method of partying has always been a ratio of two to one.  For every drink, a glass of water, a virgin drink then wait a half hour before another.  Its never fails  ... no hangover.    

  

She's gotta give Elle props she picked a winner but they've been out four hours now and Angela is almost ready to call it a quits. But Elle isn't ready to throw in the towel, she insists on a last group dance some lame tradition they started in college their old asses can't let go.  She drags them on the dance floor when suddenly.  

We are lovers true and through and through  

We made it through the storm  

I really want you to realize  

I really want to put you on  

I've been searchin' for someone  

To satisfy my every need  

   

Hearing the first beats Angie knew what song was about to play, she's ready, hands goes up waving over her head, hips and fingers poppin, singing along, thoroughly, getting her groove on. James watches her reaction, slowly approaches the dance floor stunned, mesmorized, he can't believe his eyes. Its like he's tippy toeing through a field of land mines, he's looking at her like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time.     

  

"Oh, this is the shit."   

"Damn, did I just say that?" Angela asks.  I must be drunker than I thought, haven't heard that expression since the 90's back in high school.   Her crew's eyes are directed behind her with a strange expression.   

  

Melanie says, "No, he did."  

She turns quickly. There standing before her with a hand held out, "May I have this dance?"    

  

"J..Jamie?" She's peering at him with her head ducked down trying to focus.   

He doesn't answer because he can no longer find a voice, he pulls her in his arms and starts slow dancing.  Her breast suffering against his chest he's holding on so tightly.  He manages to clear is throat again chokes out a barely audible raspy whisper in her ear.  

"Angie .....  Angela Valdes." 

  

 

  

Melanie, Rio and Elle are watching  with that same befuddled expression; they're swaying to the music oblivious to all that surrounds them, as if in their own private world.  His hand roams down her back her face cuddled in the crook of his neck, eyes closed.  The song finishes but they stay locked in that embrace, he nuzzles her hair inhaling its scent as if he's on life support, people are moving about them off the dance floor but he doesn't release her.   

  

"Who is he?" Rio asks. "Some boyfriend she's hiding that we don't know about?"  

   

"Damn he's so fine, I bet in the midnight hour he'd make a woman scream God's name." Melanie adds.    

It finally dawns on Elle  this is no stranger dancing with Angela of course she couldn't possibly recognize him from pictures of her best friend's high school days so long ago.  But to look at them now is something special...she knows exactly who he is and their story.  

"That's James St. Patrick."  

He recoups but still standing thisclose,  "How long has it been?"  

  

"Its coming up on  eighteen years."   

Look at her, none of those glittery pointy plastic nails and lashes, no extensions, just Angie the same way she was, none of that phony flash.  Hell  her father wouldn't let her, he was a tough old crow.  

"You look the same."

   

She waves her hand in front of his eyes, "Then you need your eyes checked out."  She laughs, "I'm still round the way girl." 

   

"Nah, I see you in that dress just fine."      

"You're not corner boy now."  She looks him up and down suited up so perfectly cut on a chiseled body it looks painted on him.  He's so well dressed it hurts her eyes.   

    

He laughs, "I want to know everything, what have you been doing?  Are you OK?"  

  

"Well there's no short answer,  after Choate, law school, job.  She nods her head, "Yeah,  I'm  doing Ok...what about you?  What have you been up to all these years?"    

Before he answers Rory comes up, "Boss we've got a situation with the lighting."  

Angie  gasps,  "Jamie, he said, he called you boss?"   

"Yep, that's because I own this place."  

"You do?"   

"Umm hum,"  I have a partna."   

"OK I get it Uptown, you have a club to run, its been great seeing you again,"  She snaps her fingers, "Damn if only I'd known, we wouldn't have had to push our way in... Remember that? When we went to parties sometimes we'd stand in line waiting so we could BS our way in."     

He laughs, "Hey, we were masters at that, we made a good tag team, yeah, I'd never forget." He remembers well rain, shine, sleet, snow her standing outside waiting with the poor corner boy, for years she stood right by him in line like he was a king  ... the thought of her doing that tonight to get in his club bothers him.  

"Listen, you never have to push in here again," speaking into his lapel, "Rory, you see the lady I'm with put her on our VIP roster, she and her party have complete carte blanche.  Her name is Angie....Angela Valdes."   

"Wow.  Seriously?"  She wants to talk longer but he has to go.  She moves in to hug him, "Thank you for doing that for us, my crew will be impressed."  

  

They laugh again like school kids, "Its so good seeing you." She clears her throat, "Ahem, Uptown."  Same ole Jamie, still smells so good.   

He lingers in her embrace longer than necessary then clasps her fingers tightly reluctant to let go, 

  

"Bye for now."