She pulls him closer and clings tightly.

‘Fuck, you smell good.'

'It's Bull-Gar-Ree.'

'Well, you smell fuckin’ great.' Ceebee slides out of Max’s grip and lands lightly. She wraps her arms around his torso and screams, 'You did it, Maxee!'

‘We did it Ceebs—great party—who are those people over there?’

Ceebee shrugs. 'Probably some of the new shareholders.' She rubs the soft leather of his jacket. 'There's about thirty of ‘em here—Is this new?' He flexes.

'Yeah, I got it yesterday—Ver-Sar-Chee.'

'Nice.'

Max pokes around a medusa-stamped pocket. 'Hey, do me a favour Ceebs—take this card and get me some cash from the ATM, will ya?'

'How much?'

'Huh... as much as it’ll give you—I think it's a thousand dollar limit or something.'

‘Shall I use the card for the bar tab?’

‘Good idea—Go before midnight. I think I can get another thousand after that—not sure exactly.'

She tucks the platinum card into her jacket. 'Anything else?'

Max cups her shoulders and looks into her eyes. 'You got any smokes?'

Ceebee sighs. 'Yeah.' Producing a golden pack of cigarettes, she puts one in her mouth and another between Max's lips and lights them both.

He takes a long drag and scowls at the blue label on the golden box. 'Get whatever you need from the cash and grab me a packet of Reds. He stares briefly at the orange glow at the end of the cigarette and takes another drag. He hugs Ceebee and then disappears into the club.

'Hey, boss!' A voice catches Max’s attention.

A young man wearing a white shirt and blue braces rolls up his sleeves and heads straight for Max. Beads of sweat stream down his forehead and disappear into perfectly groomed eyebrows. A DeNiro-like mole triggers a vague memory that this guy has something to do with work.

'What a party,' the young man says, 'that dance floor is out of control.'

'Do you know any of those people?' Max points to the group of new shareholders sitting near the bar.

'No idea,' he says, 'I think the fake blonde came with the chick sitting next to her—the one in red.'

'I need you to do something for me, mate.'

'Whatever you need, boss.'

Max loves how people light up when they think they’re doing him a favour. 'Grab me a JD and coke from the bar, will ya—and bring it over.' Max points to the group of new shareholders. 'Put it on Digital Enterprise’s account, if not, it’ll be under Max Zanetti. Use this tab card.'

'Sure thing boss–anything else?'

'Sure, order a dozen cock sucking cowboys and bring 'em with you.' Max loves getting people to say cock sucking cowboys. ‘I’ve gotta keep mingling, mate, find me when you get the drinks.’

The music breaks as Max reaches the group of new shareholders. 'Greetings all!' He slides into a seat opposite the thirty-something brunette and her blonde companion. 'I hope everyone’s being taken care of?'

'We are.' The woman in the red shirt giggles. 'My name’s Emmy, and this is my friend Victoria.'

Max smiles at Victoria. 'I'm pleased to meet you.'

'Likewise.' Victoria’s wearing a white sleeveless shirt. Her arms are tanned and toned, and she has a gold Rolex on her left wrist.

'Can I organise you some cocktails?'

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Victoria shakes her head and motions with her hand.

'Oh, c'mon,' says Max. 'We're celebrating–what would you like?'

'Can I get a Mojito, please!' Emmy turns expectantly to Victoria.

Victoria looks at Emmy and back at Max. 'I'll have whatever you're having.'

Max grins and slides back out of his seat, trying not to stare at Victoria's legs. 'I'll be right back.'

‘Do you know who that is?' Max hears Emmy say to Victoria and doesn't wait for the response.

On cue, the young man in braces pops-up. He’s carrying a small round tray holding a dozen shot glasses in one hand and Max's Jack Daniels and Coke in the other.

'Twelve cock sucking cowboys and a Jack Daniels and Coke.'

'I’m sitting over there.' Max points to the table where Victoria and Emmy are chatting. 'Offer all those people including the two girls shooters and tell them—the two girls— their drinks are on the way.' Max likes that he’s paying attention. 'Then, get another JD and Coke and a Mo-hee-to and bring them to those same two girls.’ Victoria catches Max pointing and smiles. 'Is that my drink?'

'Yes.' He hands Max his drink.

'Cool, tell the girls I’ll be back soon and to have whatever they want.' Max doesn't wait for an answer, spotting the one person he really needs to see.

He takes a sip of his sweet drink and beelines towards a guy wearing a hip length red leather jacket with wide lapels. 'Where the fuck have you been?'

'Maxee.' The man in the terracotta-red jacket widens his stance and opens his arms. They laugh like teenagers and embrace, Max is careful not to spill his drink on Billy’s jacket.

'Did you get 'em?'

'Yeah, ten like you asked.'

'Cool, are they the same as the last lot?'

'Yeah—exactly the same.'

'Cool!' Max winks at the man in the Tyler Durden-esque jacket and shakes his hand, accepting a small folded foil. 'Enjoy yourself, mate. I think Ceebee’s here somewhere—If you see her tell her I need my smokes.'

'Will do.'

Max heads back to the table where Victoria and Emmy are sitting. The Jack Daniels and Coke tastes sweet and the kick of alcohol shifts his mood. The braces guy appears with a glass in each hand. 'Let me take those.' Max arranges the glasses into a triangle. 'Go have some fun, mate.'

The young man straightens his braces. 'Thanks... Boss!'

'Call me Max.' Not waiting, Max heads back to where Victoria and Emmy are laughing about something. He places the drinks in the middle of the table and sits next to Victoria. She adjusts slightly to face him.

'So I hear you sold your company?' She flicks the lid of her silver Zippo and lights her cigarette.

'Can I get one of those?'

Victoria offers Max a smoke from her packet.

Max takes a cigarette. 'Not all of it.'

Victoria lights it for him. She blows smoke from the bottom corner of her mouth and leans back, one leg lifting to cross over the other.

Max wants to touch her. 'We sold about a third of it to raise some cash.' Max takes a drag of his smoke and a sip of his drink. He crunches a bit of ice in his mouth.

'So, what does your company actually do?' Victoria leans in a little closer.

'Hmm, that's a good question.' Max is trying not to stare. Victoria’s flowery perfume intermittently pierces the night-clubby smell of cigarettes and fake strawberry from the smoke machine. 'Let's just say we’re punting that people in the future will be spending a lot of time on the Internet.'

'Doing what?' Victoria takes a puff of her cigarette and smiles. Her lips are luscious. Her nails are painted Midori green.

'Well, some people reckon we'll do everything on the Internet one day.'

Victoria takes another drag of her smoke. 'I think the World Wide Web is pretty cool.'

Is she mocking him? 'Do you know much about the Web?’

'I know there’s a lot of porn on it.' Victoria leans in a little closer. Ash falls from her cigarette and onto the invisible nightclub floor. She swivels her drink with a white and red straw, takes a tiny sip, and then places it on the table between her and Max.

'Yeah, there’s a lot of porn on the Web.'

Victoria pokes the tip of her tongue through her lips.

'Let's get out of here,' Max says.

Victoria smiles and sits back in her chair. 'What do you have in mind?'

'Hah! I haven't thought that far ahead.'

'I can't tonight,' Victoria says, taking another drag. 'I have to work.'

'Work?'

'It's promotional—here, have a keyring.' She drops a little red stiletto shoe trinket in Max's hand. It looks like it can be used as a bottle opener.

'Seriously?'

'Yeah, seriously.' She seems unphased.

'Ok, but can I take you to dinner sometime? It'd be great to get to know you.'

'Maybe.' She reaches into her small white leather bag with gold trimming and retrieves a thin silver pen. She grabs a coaster off the table, neatly writes a number on it, and pushes it across to him. ‘Don't lose it—I never give my number to people I meet in clubs.'

Max takes the coaster, folds it in half, and places it carefully in an inside pocket.

Ceebee stares across the club at Max charming the new shareholders.

'Excuse me.' A young man in blue braces interrupts her train of thought. 'I couldn't help noticing you—can I get you a drink?' He is wobbling a bar tab card between his thumb and forefinger, and smiles cheekily.

Ceebee takes stock—he's young, probably dumb, and wearing the wrong shirt for those braces. He’s kinda cute though.

'Sure,’ she says. ‘I'll have vodka, lime and soda.' Ceebee glances at Max; he seems deep in conversation. 'And grab me a tequila shot!'