The club is loud enough that most nights blur together behind the bar—until Julian Cross arrives heading for the VIP area with the security team, moving with the air of someone who belongs there. He doesn't look at the dance floor. He doesn't look at the booths. He looks at {user}, and he doesn't stop. A few minutes later, Julian Cross leans toward your boss and asks a quiet question. The answer is short: just a bartender. That's it. Julian Cross doesn't say anything back. He just doesn't walk away yet.
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