Corey Grant sighed a deep sigh of quiet desperation.
"Aw, c'mon, man," he thought to himself. "Here I am twenty-three years old. My last video games design brought me up to 8.9 mil. I got a cool home, a killer car, and a girlfriend to die for."
Corey's attempt to rouse himself trailed off in a blue funk as his mind brought up an image of Jeanette King, his girlfriend. Tall, leggy, with a massive rack and breathtaking ass, Jeanette was absolutely beautiful. Corey was amazed that she had been interested in a computer geek like him and was stunned when she moved in with him.
"Why am I so down then?" he asked himself.
Corey knew, even if he did not want to admit it to himself. No matter how he tried he could not get the coldness out of her eyes or a real smile on her lips. Her excitement and passion only seemed genuine when she was out spending his money or showing off.
Corey shook his head. Tonight was a perfect example of that. It was Halloween and, from out of the blue, he and Jeanette had received an invitation to a masquerade ball at a new, trendy exclusive nightclub, La Cabana de Perdido Alma. One of Jeanette's friends had gotten in and all she did was rave about it. Corey knew that Jeanette had tried to get in a couple of times only to be politely, but firmly sent away. Jeanette's friendship with her friend had cooled greatly after that because of Jeanette's jealousy. That was all in the past now.
"Hey, baby, how do I look?"
Corey looked up from the living room sofa and almost choked. Jeanette's thick brown hair was styled up on top of her head to perfection. She was wearing a black Louis XIV dress which billowed out from her hips. The dress was adorned with silver rhinestones, sparkling with reflected light. A golden mask covered her face except for her eyes and her lips. The dress was low cut and off the shoulder. Her huge breasts pushed out the silky material and Corey was sure that one good inhale on her part would tear the cloth apart. Her makeup was so good as to be transparent and her pale blue eyes glittered in anticipation.
"You look stunning," said Corey truthfully as he stood up.
"Oh, you're so nice to say so," replied Jeanette, who had already turned away from him to check her makeup in a mirror. "C'mon, we don't want to be late."
Corey sighed again as he hurried out the door after her.
Jeanette sat in the back seat of Corey's Jaguar because of the dress. As Corey drove, she kept up a constant stream of dialogue. All of it revolved around the cost of the dress, how good it made her look, and if anyone famous would be at the ball. Corey did not say anything, not that he could get a word in edgewise, and feeling more and more like a chauffeur.
They soon arrived at La Cabana. The club was located in an old, converted factory. Multi-colored lights illuminated the red brick exterior and all of the windows had been bricked over. Muscular men dressed like the roaring 20's gangsters guarded the entrance and exits as dozens of costumed revelers stood around outside. Corey pulled up at the front and two parking valets opened the car doors for him and Jeanette.
Cameras flashed in his eyes as Corey exited his Jag. He lowered his head and put on his mask to shield his eyes. Looking downward, he saw his puffy white costume decorated with large black diamonds. The conical cap completed his Pagliacci outfit.
"I'm a clown," thought Corey as his melancholia returned.
Corey looked up to see Jeanette standing by the entrance a good twenty feet away. She was giving him an angry stare and motioning him abruptly to hurry up.
"C'mon, I can't get in without you!" she said as Corey hurried up the cordoned carpet.
Corey handed the invitation over to one of the 'gangsters'. The bouncer stood a good six inches taller than Corey and his muscular build made him look invincible. His gaze swept back and forth between Corey and Jeanette several times before he smiled and opened the door for them.
"I hope you enjoy yourselves," he said to them as they walked inside.
"Omigod! Omigod! We're really here!" squealed Jeanette in delight as she tugged on Corey's arm.
The entrance door opened onto a large landing with a wide staircase going down to the main level. A large balcony circled to the left and right of the landing around the perimeter of the main floor. Archways branched off from the balcony, but Corey could not see where they led to. A band was performing on a stage across the way on the main floor. Colored lights flitted around the club and laser lights strobed through the air adding to the dazzling display. The main dance floor was packed with costumed partiers. Jeanette yanked on Corey's arm again, dragging him down the stairs towards an empty table she had spotted on the main floor.
"Do you think anyone famous is here?" asked Jeanette as she sat down. Her head turned this way and that scanning the crowd. "We'll never know with everyone wearing a mask!"
"Hey! This is our table!" exclaimed a man wearing a Zorro outfit and carrying two margaritas in his hands. A woman in a heavily veiled Spanish dress stood beside him.
"I'm sorry..." Corey started to say as he began to stand up. Jeanette grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him down hard back into his seat.
"It was empty when we arrived," said Jeanette sweetly. "It's ours now. Run along and bother someone else."
The man's face turned red in anger and his hands tightened on the glasses he was holding. The woman beside him glared at Corey looked at the man and saw his nostrils flare as he took in a deep breath.
"Is there a problem here?" asked a rich, melodious voice from behind Corey.
Corey spun around. A tall, beautiful woman was standing behind him. She was dressed in a skin-tight, leather Catwoman costume, which adhered perfectly to her hourglass figure. Her eyes, shining out from beneath the mask, were a brilliant green and her lips were full, rich, and red. Her skin was bronzed, almost golden, and Corey could see wisps of auburn hair tucked under her cap.
"These people took our table, Delphena," said Zorro angrily.
Corey stood up, shaking off Jeanette's hand. He turned around to face Delphena.
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "We did not know the table was taken. There was no one here when we sat down."
Delphena gave him a dazzling smile and said, "You must be Corey and this is Jeanette." She looked over at Zorro. "They're new, Carlos. Why don't you and Conchita find another table? I'll make it up to the two of you later."
The faces of both Carlos and Conchita lost their angry scowls, which was replaced by a look of pure delight. They nodded amiably to Corey and Jeanette before losing themselves in the crowd.
"Thank you," said Corey to Delphena. "How did you know who we are?"
"It's my business to know who I invite to my party," said Delphena with a laugh. "I run La Cabana."
"Oooo," cooed Jeanette, suddenly interested. "Is there anyone famous here?"
Delphena gave Jeanette a knowing smile. "A few," she told her mysteriously, "but it's against the rules to tell you. You have to find them on your own."
"Oh, pooh," huffed Jeanette. "C'mon, just a hint."
"Oh, alright." Delphena leaned down and whispered loudly, "They're wearing a mask."
Jeanette's eyes narrowed when she realized what Delphena had said. Corey quickly asked Jeanette what she wanted to drink to head off the impending explosion.
Delphena laughed and said, "I shouldn't pull your leg that way. To show there are no hard feelings, the first round is on the house."
Jeanette smiled wickedly and said, "In that case, I'll have the Dom Perignon, Corey"
"We only sell it by the bottle," stated Delphena.
"So?" asked Jeanette with her eyebrows arched upward.
"Good selection," said Delphena without a trace of rancor. "Come along, Corey. I'll introduce you to the bartender. Oh, Jeanette, I will give you a hint. You should take a closer look at Carlos and Conchita."
Corey followed Delphena towards the club's main bar. The chaotic mixture of the disco and strobe lights along with the noise of the crowd and the heavy beat of the music made Corey a little uneasy. The crowd of people at the bar seemed to part aside as he and Delphena stepped up to the rail.
"Mike, this is Corey," said Delphena, introducing the muscular bartender to Corey. "He and his girlfriend will start off with a bottle of Dom Perignon. They are at Table 12. Please put a reserved sign on their table. Anything they want is on the house."
"Wait a minute," stammered Corey quickly. "You don't have to do that. I have enough to pay our way."
"You're wealthy enough to pay your own way several times over," said Delphena.
"Jeanette took advantage of your offer," argued Corey. "It's not fair to you."
"Trust me. It won't affect my business." Delphena turned to Mike, the bartender, who had come back with a silver ice bucket and the champagne. "Take it over to their table. I want to talk to Corey for a few." As Mike left, she turned back to Corey. "Jeanette appears to be a go-getter and, if you will pardon my saying so, not really your type."
"Oh, and what is my type?"
"You're a watcher. You watch the world drift by without getting involved. You're wealthy, but you don't do anything with your wealth."
"I own a mansion," said Corey defensively.
"That Jeanette probably pushed you into," countered Delphena.
"Er..." stammered Corey, remembering Jeanette dragging him to the realtors. "I have a new Jaguar."
.... There is more of this story ...