Tonight was the club’s Christmas party for the strippers. None of them had ever met Tony; he had always given the revue nights a wide berth. He concentrated more on the casino in the early part of the week but was still the host of the weekend party nights at the club.

‘Why do you need me there? You’re in charge. You’re their boss, Sharon,’ said Tony. It was becoming the busiest time of the year again and if last year was anything to go by, it was going to be hectic.

‘Because, you poor tired old man, I’m their boss but they work at Lambrianu’s.’ Sharon was adamant he should attend. If nothing else, it was good manners.

Tony looked at Jake. ‘What do you think? Shall we make the effort and show our faces?’ Tony wasn’t keen. The thought of smiling and standing around his employees didn’t exactly excite him, even though he could see Sharon’s point.

‘We could have one drink, Tony; wish them all merry Christmas then leave. That way, they’ll have all met the man behind the myth.’ That was settled, then, and Sharon seemed content with that.

‘I have to go, boss,’ said Jake.’ I have a meeting with a jeweller for Sharon’s Christmas present. I’m hoping this will pacify her so I don’t have to go to another one of her sister’s parties. God, I remember last year; it was painful and my digestive system suffered for days.’

Tony smiled as he watched him leave, and then something occurred to him. The last time Jake had to go to Sharon’s sister’s party was the night he had gone to Stan’s pub to collect some money. Was it really a year since then? A smile crossed his face. ‘Cinderella’, that’s what Jake had called his mystery woman from the beer garden. He found himself thinking back to that night and wondering what she was doing now.

He wondered if she had ever thought about him; there had never been any kind of feedback from that night, so maybe Jake was right. She didn’t know who he was or she was married.

Tony frowned. Maybe she was married and he had been a bit of drunken fun. He knew how that felt; he had done it many times himself. It felt different being on the other end of things, for a change.

Christmas, although people looked forward to it and scrimped and saved all year round to make it a day to remember, seemed like a sad, lonely time, as well; maybe that was why people made such an effort.

Tony picked up his pen and continued making his lists for how much cheap champagne he would need to substitute for the good stuff. People were always drunk at Christmas and after a couple of bottles never realised what they were drinking. They were so thirsty from all that dancing they seemed to pick up their glasses and swill back whatever was in them.

Then he put his pen down again; his thoughts were wandering back to last year and his encounter with the beautiful stranger in the beer garden. For the first time in a long time, he had felt like a man. He wasn’t famous Tony Lambrianu. He was just some random guy with a woman who wanted him, just him. Not for who or what he was, but just for being a man who had taken her fancy and with whom the chemistry was right.