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The dance floor of Blue Paradise nightclub was
packed with energetic bodies. The crowd was partying like
it was 1999. And that was because it was—and had been,
ever since the club rang in the new year less than an hour
ago.
From his private office above, Blue Cooper gazed
at the club scene with distant eyes. The song 1999, recorded
by The Artist Formerly Known As Prince, vibrated from every
speaker in the building. It didn't take a genius to know that
it would become the club's most requested song in the coming
year.
Through two-way mirrored glass, Blue watched
couples gyrate and twist under colorful rotating lights. His
sense of isolation grew. At that moment, even sipping a Yoo-hoo,
his all-time favorite chocolate drink, gave him little comfort.
Instead, Blue felt his mood shrinking into the black shadows
at the back of his mind.
He wasn't sure why, because his life wasn't
dissatisfying. Blue Paradise was one of the most popular nightclubs
in West Palm Beach. And, when Blue couldn't be found at the
apex of Florida nightlife, he kept busy. Whenever his friends
hit a snag, Blue was always the first man called.
They knew they could count on him because he
was "true blue". That was his motto, but it was
more than just a catchy phrase to replace a hello when he
answered the phone. It was the way he lived his life.
He didn't mind running off at a moment's notice
to help a friend in need, but he was thirty-two-years-old
and the only thing he had to look forward to was his next
excursion. He found himself prolonging his adventures to put
off the inevitable chill that came each time he tried to sink
back into his life.
Blue turned his back on the window and crossed
the room to his desk. He tried not to spend his nights at
the club alone in his office. The room had a full lounge area
and bar where he could entertain his guests privately, but
Blue rarely used it. He preferred to mingle with the crowd
and interact with his staff. He needed people.
If he spent too much time alone, he couldn't
tame the savage memories of the places he'd been and things
he'd seen in his past. He needed to keep them caged in darkness
where they couldn't claw at his heart and tear at his sanity.
Yet he found himself alone more frequently.
He could feel himself changing. It didn't take long for his
dark thoughts to become unchained. It was a struggle not to
succumb to his bitter moods. He'd never been the brooding
type, but that was by careful design.
He'd seen what happened when emotions went numb.
His best friend, Jax, had been a prime example. For all the
years Blue had known Jax, the man had remained cold and stoic,
completely expressionless. Until he met a sprite-like ball
of fire named Coco who had melted the wall of ice Jax had
built around his heart. Jax had been one of the lucky ones.
But Blue had seen many others who hadn't recovered from the
harsh hands life had dealt them.
That's why Blue didn't drink anything stronger
than Yoo-hoos or take part in anything that would make him
more vulnerable to the demons he kept shackled in his head.
That's why he lived his life as honestly as his past would
allow.
Despite the urge to stay isolated from those
who couldn't possibly understand him, Blue forced himself
down the winding stairs and through the corridor that led
to the club's main room.
The throng instantly welcomed him. Regulars
knew him by name and turned to greet him or slap him on the
back as he made his way through the crowd. He got along well
with his staff because he made an effort to pitch in, or cause
trouble, wherever he could.
Some nights he poured drinks at the bar, checked
coats in the cloak room, or pitched drunkards alongside the
bouncers. On a good night, he'd head for the deejay booth
and they'd let him spin a few hits. But, most often they'd
hand him a microphone to pump up the crowd.
Blue would laugh and joke with the fellas, flirt
with the ladies and maybe even go out on the floor for a dance
or two. Everyone admired Blue's easy charm and natural wit.
They had no idea his jocularity was a vital weapon in the
daily battle for his soul.
"Hey, Rutherford!" Blue climbed to
the top of the security balcony on the other end of the club
and slapped hands with a broad crew-cutted bouncer.
"Blue, my man! Happy New Year, buddy!"
Blue leaned against the rail. "You too,
man. How was Vegas? Did you win big bucks?"
"Nah, Shirl wouldn't let me near the black
jack tables. She made me promise to give up gambling as my
New Year's resolution." Rutherford folded his massive
arms and faced Blue. "You bother with that stuff? Resolutions?"
"No, I got out of that habit a long time
ago." Resolutions had been hard to make when he wasn't
even sure if he'd be around to see the new year through.
But those days were past. By the old standards,
his life had calmed down considerably. He wasn't getting any
younger and the old rules no longer applied. It was time for
him to make some changes in his life.
Blue watched the crowd below throb as the deejay
cranked up the tempo and turned on the smoke machine. "This
year I might make an exception though."
"Yeah? What's your resolution?"
"It may be time for me to start thinking
about settling down." Blue felt his skin heat. He hadn't
known he was going to say that until the words tumbled from
his mouth. But now that he'd said them out loud, he knew they
were true. "A Wife. Family. The whole nine yards."
A wide grin split the younger man's face. "Really?
Got anybody in mind?"
"Nope. That's the problem." Blue shook
his head, giving him a conspiratorial look. He often found
himself talking to Rutherford because of the man's cool, even
temperament. He wasn't a macho hothead like many of the bouncers
who worked at Blue Paradise. "Just between you and me?
I can't remember the last time I went out on an actual date."
Rutherford made a face. "Now I know you're
pulling my leg. I've seen how the women around here crawl
all over you. Put out the word that you're interested, and
they'll be lined up around the block."
Blue knew that to the untrained eye he appeared
to be a regular lady-killer. He was frequently accused of
being West Palm Beach's very own Don Juan, but it was all
an illusion. He knew how to turn up the charm and flirt without
letting anyone get close. The fact was, he'd always been a
one woman man.
Rutherford eyed him skeptically. "I can't
believe this. You're really thinking about taking yourself
off the market?"
"Yeah." Blue grinned. "If I can
find a good woman like Shirl."
"No, you don't want a woman like Shirl.
She's too difficult. You need a woman who knows how to have
a good time." He studied the dance floor. "Like
that one in red over there."
Blue followed the bouncer's pointing finger
to a petite woman wearing a skintight red catsuit. She had
a short, spiky haircut and was pelvic-thrusting atop one of
the platforms. He threw his head back and laughed then slapped
Rutherford on the back. "No way, man. She's not my type."
"No? Then who is your type?" He gestured
around the room. "Take your pick."
Blue didn't bother looking. "No. She's
not here. I'm not interested in a nightclub groupie. I'll
know her when I see her."
Rutherford snorted. "That's bull. I've
been married for five years, and I can tell you, man, it doesn't
work like that."
Blue flicked his finger at his friend's noggin.
"That's because you're a meathead, Rutherford. You were
lucky to find a woman who was willing to put up with you."
The bouncer laughed, and Blue continued more seriously. "Actually,
I have a keen sense of timing. I always have, and something
tells me . . . it's about that time."
"For what?"
"For me to meet the one."
"Don't tell me you actually buy into all
that soul mate crap."
For the second time that night, Blue's friend
Jax came to mind. He'd seen that man undergo a complete transformation,
and all because of a woman. Like David with Goliath, Coco
had felled a mighty giant with the most basic of weapons.
Blue's eyelids drifted shut for a moment as
he considered Rutherford's question. Then he opened them,
seeing the world more clearly than he had for quite some time.
"Yeah. I know it sounds corny, but I do
. . . and my instincts never fail me."
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