I’m in hell.
The dance music thrums through the club, each pulsing beat vibrating through my chest. Flashing neon lights illuminate the darkness, just enough to reveal the large open space where people are dancing, their bodies moving in time with the song blasting all around us. A bar stretches along the right wall, and the colorful LED panels behind it enable me to make out the wide array of bottles and glasses.
The air is warm and thick, filled with scents of perfume, cologne, sweat, and alcohol. I fist my hands when my fingers twitch, my brain screaming at me to grab the miniature sanitizer out of my purse. If it wouldn’t hurt Harper’s feelings, I’d douse myself in it right now.
“Do you want to dance or drink first?” she asks, her voice loud in my ear.
“Whatever you want.”
“Drinks!”
She grabs my hand, and I trail behind her, taking in the VIP section at the back of the club to the left of the bar. While the exclusive space doesn’t have any physical barriers keeping the rest of the patrons from entering, there are two security guards just outside the entrance. Within the area are plush couches and private tables, and well-dressed individuals sipping their beverages while taking in the scene before them. Or ignoring the rest of us.
“What’s your drink of choice?” Harper asks me. She pulls me to her side in front of the bar and throws an arm around my shoulder. Her secure hold makes me feel less vulnerable to the countless eyes that could be watching us.
“Cherry vodka sour,” I say.
“Cherry vodka sour for her.” She points to me and then herself, shooting a wink at the bartender. The tall blonde returns the gesture, and Harper’s smile widens. “And I’ll take an apple martini,” she says. “Might as well keep the fruity theme going.”
I nod at her in thanks while keeping my eye on the bartender. I watch his every move, every twitch of his fingers, never letting the glass out my sight. Not even to blink.
Because that’s all it takes for someone to drug you.
When he delivers the beverages without any signs of foul play, I relax and take a sip. The alcohol slides into my belly, immediately heating me from the inside. Harper takes a large gulp from hers and grins at me.
“To the dance floor with your sexy ass!”
The flashing lights overhead reveal Harper’s features. Her face is alight with excitement, the dramatic smoky-look of her makeup emphasizing the shape and color of her green eyes. Her wild red tresses are pinned up in a messy topknot on her head, and her lips are stained red, pairing nicely with the shimmering gold minidress that clings to her body. She’s so lovely it’s hard to look anywhere except at her.
In contrast to Harper’s bright and shiny appearance, my outfit is a simple, form-fitting black halter dress. The plunging neckline was an issue when my friend suggested I wear it, but then she challenged me not to be a pussy. So here I am, wearing something that makes me feel both sexy and exposed.
It’s similar to the way I feel whenever I’m around Hayden.
“Come on, beautiful,” Harper says, pulling me away from my thoughts about a certain attorney. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I shake my head with a small laugh. “I’m not very coordinated.”
“I’m sure that’s a lie. Just do what I do.”
Drink in hand, my friend morphs into a goddess right before my eyes. Harper sways to the music as though every beat and every note controls her. Eyes closed and arms raised, she moves with a sensual grace that commands attention, and the people around us watch her with unconcealed interest. She’s beautiful to look at.
Some of the men draw near to her, but she simply smiles at them while getting closer to me. “Come on, Calista. Let’s do this shit.”
I down half the contents in my glass, needing all the liquid courage I can get. Then I let the energy of the crowd and the rhythm of the music take me away. Other than the fact that I promised Harper I’d come, forgetting everything in my life for a few hours of peace is why I’m here.
No murdered father.
No creepy stalker.
No Hayden.
We dance to several songs as one bleeds into the next. My leg muscles throb, and my forehead is damp with sweat due to my exertion, but the happiness streaming through me—thank you, vodka—is something I don’t want to end. If this is what it’s like to be young and carefree, then I owe Harper my gratitude for persuading me to go beyond my comfort zone. It helps that she continues to turn down male dance partners in favor of staying with me.
“This is amazing,” I say to her, shouting to be heard above the music.
She nods. “I know, right? Let’s take a break and get another drink.”
“Okay.”
Harper takes my hand. Once our glasses are full, she leads me to a tiny booth near the VIP section. A man dressed in an expensive-looking shirt and black slacks raises his hand and tilts his drink in our direction. I avert my gaze, knowing he’s not trying to get my attention.
“Hottie, nine o’clock,” Harper says, leaning close. “He has brown hair and a nice smile, and he won’t stop looking at you.”
“The one in the VIP section?”
She grins at me. “Ah, so you did notice him. Yes, that one.”
“I thought he was looking at you. Not that I’d blame him. You’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you, but don’t deflect. I know you’re hung up on Mr. Choke-me-big-daddy Bennett, and I get it. He’s possibly the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. However,” she says, drawing out the word, “he hasn’t made a move.”
She’s right.
Even if I was the type of woman who could have sex without letting my feelings get involved, I can’t imagine someone like Hayden mixing business with pleasure. And I’m certainly in the former category after he wired ten-thousand dollars to my account. It makes me wonder if he’d be interested in me if I didn’t have the answers he’s looking for…
“Excuse me?”
Harper and I turn our heads toward the voice and find a waitress standing in front of our table. Her spiky dark hair and black eye-liner draw my gaze and she smiles at me.
“The gentleman over there,” she says, pointing to the man we were just discussing, “wants to buy you ladies a drink.”
I cover the opening of my glass with my palm. Harper’s brows snap together at my reaction and I inwardly cringe. One day I’ll explain my behavior to her, but not tonight.
“I’m good.”
The waitress slides her gaze to Harper. “And you?”
My friend looks at me, and I stiffen under her scrutiny, but then she grins. “We’re good, but please tell him ‘thanks.’”
The woman nods. “Have a good night and let me know if you need anything. I’m Kat.”
As soon as we’re alone, Harper shifts in her seat to face me. “What’s going on with you?”
“I don’t want to owe anyone or give him the impression that I’m interested.”
“But you are interested.” My friend rolls her eyes, staring at the ceiling briefly. “You need to get your mind off of that lawyer and your ex. Try other flavors. Most men are stupid, but not all of them are idiots. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, mulling over her words. “I could give him a shot, but I’m really having a good time with you. This is the best girls’ night I’ve ever had. I don’t want to ruin it with some guy who might turn out to be an asshole.”
“Fine, but we’re not leaving without his number. Okay?”
A sly smile works its way onto my mouth. “I’m not sure Mr. Bennett would appreciate me using the phone he gave me to hook up with some random guy in a club, but who cares? He shouldn’t have given it to me if he didn’t want me to use it.”
“That’s right.” When Harper raises her drink, I do the same. “To cell phones and booty calls,” she says.
I tap my glass to hers and take a long swallow. The vodka hits me again, making my veins feel like they’re filled with sugar and mischief. “Do you want to know something?” I ask.
“What?”
“I turned the phone off earlier because I was mad at Hayden for ordering me around like a fucking soldier in his army. But I forgot to turn it back on since Adam came in and threw me for a loop. A big fucking loop-de-loop.”
I giggle and Harper grins while shaking her head. “You’re feeling pretty good right now. Cursing like a sailor and everything. It’s nice to see you enjoy yourself and let loose. I should get you drunk more often.”
“I’m not drunk, but I am happy.” I give her a big smile, as if I have something to prove. But with Harper I don’t. She accepts me as is. “And I think you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“Ah, babe, right back at you.”
I’m in heaven. This night has turned out better than I imagined when I first walked in. Now, all I want to do is dance some more and forget about Hayden for as long as I can.
“Don’t look,” Harper says, “but the guy from the VIP is walking this way. And he’s bringing his hot friend.” When I swing my gaze to the left, my friend hisses at me. “God, you’re so obvious! At least get your cell phone out so you can get his number.”
“Okay.”
I swallow the nerves gathering in my throat and unzip my purse. After powering on the device, I stare at it to keep from looking at the mysterious guy heading in our direction. I still think he’s interested in Harper, but holding my phone gives me something to do.
The screen flares to life, illuminating the horror that has to be covering my face.
There are eighteen notifications.
Thirteen unread texts.
Five missed calls.
