29
CARLY
The mall was exactly what I needed. I even spent my $100 Amex card on a cute dress for clubbing. It’s a shimmery coral and is going to look great with my rule-the-world lip gloss.
We talk Meryl into a pair of low kitten-heeled red MaryJane shoes that look cute on her and she buys a red dress. It’s slightly on the conservative side but once we’re back at the apartment and we’re all dressed and ready to go, she looks amazing.
Soft curls have been added to her long sheet of silky black hair and Ally has done her eyes in smoky-eye and with the finishing touch of red lips, she’s an absolute stunner.
Ally’s crazy-hot, too. Her pink hair, which is usually wavy and wispy, but has been flat ironed straight, falls over one eye and is tucked behind her ears. She’s wearing a little black dress with a corset top. And heels with laces that go almost to her knees.
My coral dress is fitted, not too short, but it goes over one shoulder only. It makes me feel super sexy.
I’ve had two fuzzy navels before the club, which Ally says she heard has a great vibe and is the perfect place to dance at, when the cab arrives.
As we go through the lobby, though, Seth the security douche is there. He’s usually on daytime hours so I’m surprised to see him on a Saturday night.
He looks at me in an oily leering way and it makes bile rise in my throat.
I look away and head outside with the girls. Ally sticks her tongue out at him and says, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
***
“How’d you get us in?” I’m aghast.
Ally has marched us straight to the short line, which we’ve seen is for VIP passes only, and she whispers something in the doorman’s ear, hands him a twenty, and he looks at his list and lets us in, handing her a hard-plastic white square with a number 10 in it, on black.
“We weren’t on that list. I saw someone else try to bribe him and it didn’t work,” I say.
Ally says, “I may or may not have magical powers.”
We make our way through the entrance to the big club, and I take in bodies everywhere. Lights, dancing, and a heavy bass that thrums in my chest.
A hostess looks at the 10 in Ally’s hand and leads the way.
She directs us up some stairs and to an empty booth on the far end.
Not only have we gotten in past a line forty people deep, but we also have a booth. And there’s an usher of some sort, watching the swanky area.
It’s a big booth for just three of us, but we sit down, and the hostess takes our drink orders. Fuzzy navels all around and she won’t take money, telling us it’s a VIP table and it’s covered.
This doesn’t make sense to me and I try to find out why we’re at this table, worrying it’s someone else’s table and they’re going to show up and be angry that we’re here and drinking on their tab.
“Don’t look a gift-horse in the mouth,” Ally urges. “Don’t worry about it.”
She asks for Meryl’s fuzzy navel to be made with half a shot of peach schnapps instead of a full one. We got Meryl to drink a weak one before we came, and she loved it, but I warn her that drinks that taste all fruity like that are dangerous.
“I wanna dance,” I announce after one sip of my drink. I’m ready to dance my cares away. So ready.
30
AIDEN
Austin, Jude, and I head in the direction of table six, the other table I booked for tonight. Table ten is empty, but there are three full drink glasses there. The club attendant is nearby watching glasses, watching peoples’ belongings in the roped-off VIP section.
My eyes skim the dance floor, down in a bowl below the VIP level, which is surrounded by chest-height brass bars that top glass walls. These circle the pit, giving you the ability to watch the dancefloor. I lean against the brass rail and look down.
I see her instantly, shaking that perfect ass, giggling, arms thrown over her head as she talks to that Meryl girl, who looks a little sexed up for the night. Big switch from her usual librarian clothes at the office.