At this moment, Jessica wasn't thinking about whether to agree to be Ethan's girlfriend.
But a grander, more unrealistic thought that she couldn't help entertaining entwined her heart like a vine:
"Would a man like Ethan be willing to enter the institution of marriage with someone like me?"
.....
Ten minutes later.
The car reached the entrance of Marquee.
The scene in front of them confirmed Jessica's concerns: the bar entrance was crowded, and the music's bass could be faintly felt vibrating through the heavy doors.
The entrance to the not-very-spacious parking area had long been blocked by various luxury cars—it was hard to find even a gap on the ground.
Ethan only glanced at it, then decisively gave up his plan to find a parking space.
He simply parked the car directly next to the entrance.
Almost as soon as the car stopped, a young security guard wearing the bar's uniform who looked to be in his early twenties jogged over.
He was clearly experienced and recognized the car's value at a glance.
Without any questions or hesitation, he quickly grabbed a few eye-catching fluorescent traffic cones, and with a few "clanks," placed them accurately in front of and behind the Ferrari, instantly isolating the car from potential risks around it, forming a temporary "exclusive protective zone."
Ethan pushed open the door and got out, his posture calm.
He casually stuffed the car keys and a small stack of rolled-up hundred-dollar bills into the hands of the young security guard who'd come to greet him.
"Thanks, man,"
Ethan's tone was very casual, with a bit of swagger:
"If there's a spot later, just help me move it over there."
Sometimes slipping someone some cash worked better than anything else.
The young security guard looked down at the bills in his hand, his eyes lit up, and his face immediately filled with great enthusiasm as he said respectfully to Ethan:
"Hey, boss, don't even worry about it. Just leave it here—I'll keep an eye on it for you."
This security guard looked pretty young, probably in his early 20s. Very sharp, very good at talking and handling things. Already working security at this age.
Kid's going places.
Ethan nodded, didn't say anything else, and just pocketed the key.
Turning around, he was about to walk toward the bar entrance with Jessica.
At that moment, a brand new white BMW 5 Series also stopped next to the entrance.
Seeing this, the security guard quickly stepped forward to stop them:
"Sir, I'm sorry, you can't park here."
The BMW owner was obviously not convinced, pointing at the Ferrari surrounded by cones next to them, his tone very aggressive:
"Why not? He can park here but I can't? What kind of discrimination is this?"
The security guard glanced at the Ferrari and then at the BMW.
Complaining madly in his head: Dude, don't you feel a little outclassed? What kind of car is that? What kind of car are you driving? Not only are they richer than you, they were also super polite to a low-level security guard like me. Your window's down and you haven't even offered me a smoke, right? You want the same treatment without tipping? Dream on.
He cursed internally, but his words came out smooth as silk:
"Sir, you misunderstood. That gentleman's parking spot is a VIP exclusive temporary space booked in advance at premium rates—it's recorded in our system. I'm really sorry, please cooperate. Drive forward to find a parking spot, or park in our designated valet area. Thank you for your cooperation!"
The security guard stood there smiling.
The BMW owner was choked by the words "VIP exclusive" and "premium rates." Looking at the security guard's unmovable stance and the eyes of people around starting to watch the show, his face immediately couldn't take it.
He cursed angrily, "Fuck this shit!" and stomped on the accelerator. The BMW rushed out with a sense of resentment.
Ethan, who had just walked to the revolving door of the bar, happened to catch this dramatic scene.
The corners of his mouth rose slightly, showing a hint of amusement. His eyes lingered on the clever young security guard for a moment, and the assessment flashed through his mind again: Yeah, kid's definitely going places.
Immediately.
He didn't linger any longer. He reached out and pushed open the door that separated the outside world from the chaos within, took Jessica's hand, and stepped into Marquee's deafening, psychedelic sound waves and neon lights.
Just stepping into the dazzling world of Marquee, a beautiful marketing woman in a tight black dress with impeccable makeup greeted them with a professional, enthusiastic smile.
"Hello sir, do you have a reservation?"
Her voice was still clear against the noisy background, and her eyes quickly swept over Ethan's young face and Jessica beside him.
Ethan looked indifferent, his voice not loud but full of presence:
"My last name is Miller, phone number is 1723."
The marketing beauty quickly tapped a few times on the tablet in her hand, and the message that popped up on the screen made her heart skip a beat.
The owner had called personally ten minutes ago instructing "pull out all the stops" and "make absolutely sure Mr. Miller is satisfied."
Although the specific reason wasn't explained, with this level of special attention, how could people who worked the nightlife scene not understand the weight?
The handsome young guy in front of her was definitely a hidden VIP!
"Of course, Mr. Miller!"
She immediately bowed slightly, her posture extremely deferential, almost in a guiding stance: "Your table is ready—it's number 009 with the best view! Please follow me!"
She carefully led the way ahead, skirting the edge of the crowded dance floor, worried someone might accidentally bump into the guests.
Soon, a semi-circular large table with an excellent position appeared before them.
Number 009.
It was right in front of the DJ booth and facing the center stage, offering the most energetic atmosphere of the entire bar—definitely a top prime location second only to table 001.
At the moment, no one was at the table, but it was already surrounded by crowds outside, and the atmosphere was at peak frenzy.
Ethan randomly pulled out a few crisp hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and handed them to the marketing beauty who'd led the way:
"Thanks for your help."
"Oh, thank you Mr. Miller! Thank you so much!"
The marketing beauty's eyes lit up. She took the bills with both hands, the smile on her face practically overflowing, and she bowed repeatedly:
"Have an amazing time tonight with you and your friends! Call me anytime if you need anything!"
This tip alone was higher than her commission for the entire night.
Ethan and Jessica had just sat down on the soft leather sofa and hadn't had time to take in the view from this premium table when a woman in a well-tailored dark business suit, with a capable demeanor, about thirty years old, walked over quickly.
"Mr. Miller, good evening!"
Sophia had just the right amount of enthusiasm and respect on her face. She bowed slightly, her voice clear and professional:
"I'm Sophia, the manager here, and I'm honored to serve you tonight."
She handed over a beautifully designed drink menu with both hands:
"This is our bottle menu. Do you have any particular preferences, or would you like me to make some recommendations?"
Ethan just glanced at it briefly and closed the menu directly:
"You handle it. For about 10 people."
It was also his first time at a bar, so he didn't bother looking and just let the manager arrange it.
Sophia was slightly taken aback, but her professionalism made her smile immediately recover.
This kind of carte blanche customer was either a regular or someone who didn't care about price at all.
There are 90 advance chapters ahead in my Patreon. If you are interested can check it out.
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