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Nightlife

Eve Nightclub is wicked good

What Eva Longoria Parker knows about sin and temptation

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Not a bad view from Kristin Cavallari’s VIP booth at Eve!
Erik Kabik/Retna/www.erikkabikphoto.com

I find it fitting that Vegas’ first female-owned nightclub borrows its name from she who was—for some—the first woman, period. Or maybe the pseudo-eponymous ode is more happy accident than theological reference. (Actress Eva Longoria Parker was honestly floored when I told her of her noteworthy status; she has since told the world.) Either way, the first lady, along with her forbidden fruit, evil snake and hapless hubby Adam, are a memorable cautionary tale of sin and temptation, those being two things Vegas does really, really well.

So I was delighted when wing-couple Shalom and Bill pointed out the one perfect, tiny red apple preset on each of Eve Nightclub’s VIP tables when the club soft-opened on, ahem, New Year’s Eve-eve. In fact, I was overjoyed to see a lot of things that night; my sneak-peek during Aria’s December 16 opening had been a little less impressive.

Well, if Kristin Cavallari doesn't want hers...

Well, if Kristin Cavallari doesn't want hers...

An unguarded elevator whisked me and a guest up to what I have written in my notes as “a black box with a disco ball.” Uh-oh, I thought, taking in the then-blank, matte-black walls and the giant mirror-encrusted disco ball surrounded by eight small screens. Other than the lone chandelier over the bar and the mirrored DJ booth, there was nothing to look at. Where was the opulence? The sexiness? Everything we’d been promised by endless press releases and by Longoria Parker herself? I left feeling deeply concerned and just a little deflated.

You can imagine my relief when I returned to find a massive mirror playing off the ever-changing chandelier lighting, not to mention the appearance of three more chandeliers throughout the venue—and rumors of even more on the way. The blank walls have since been adorned with velvety taupe fabric panels, the white marble tables set with electronic menu tablets, the mirror tiling having proliferated. I’m told gold chains will soon appear like gilt garlands and I can’t wait. Over successive visits, I’ve fallen in love with Eve. I have even learned to tolerate the disco ball!

...Nightlife Editor Xania Woodman will be more than happy to wield the Sugar Factory couture pop!

...Nightlife Editor Xania Woodman will be more than happy to wield the Sugar Factory couture pop!

This is not to say Eve is a fait accompli. Some kinks still exist with respect to the food and service at Beso, which I trust will be addressed. But the largest hurdle Eve must overcome is its unfortunate entrance. The black carpet-covered metal staircase that can only safely accommodate traffic in one direction at a time is a frustrating start to any evening. VIPs and celebs may avail themselves of the elevator inside Beso’s lounge, but that only accounts for a small percentage of the bodies vying to populate the petite 9,000 square-foot club.

Otherwise, Eve is solidly entertaining. Security is polite, even when telling you something you don’t want to hear. The Funktion One sound system installed by Sound Investments is on point, the F221 subwoofers making all your fun-bits feel good. And Frankie Anobile’s True Nightlife DJ roster (so far, Hollywood, R.O.B., Jose 2 Hype and Exodus) is a keeper. Just watch who gets a hold of the Patron and the microphone at the same time ...

The best place to be: inside the VIP box just off the dance-floor, nearest to the DJ booth. There one assumes instant Big Shot status. And it was there that I ogled Longoria Parker and Kim Kardashian’s pre-New Year’s Eve antics, feted Eve’s first industry Wednesday and partied with The Hills’ Kristin Cavallari. More importantly, I there met the man who was introduced to me as “one of the five biggest bottle patrons in Las Vegas.” God, is that you?? We met on Eve’s first Wednesday, and again that Saturday, when his party bumped Cavallari’s entourage (inexplicably including me) to the back of the box.

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The Bottle God had just flown in from Australia for DJ Hollywood’s birthday. He let me in on why he frequents the clubs he does, buying as he did multiple rounds of Cristal magnums, Gran Patron and Grey Goose bottles the size of a wiffleball bat: “It’s about the relationships. This guy’s a professional, that guy’s a professional,” he said, pointing first to VIP host Keith Leavitt, then to Hollywood. “When they say they’re going to do something, they deliver. That’s why guys like me will get on a plane and fly in for a birthday.”

That is love, I declared, and not just because he was offering me Cristal from one of Eve’s voluminous champagne flutes. And yes, of course I accepted; I make it a rule to give in to temptation.

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