Her voice perks up, “He’s fine. Sometimes I worry that he’s studying too hard…” She launches into a long monologue about my brother, and luckily doesn’t bring up Jack again before she has to go.
Afterward, I wonder what she would have said if I’d told her about Landon. She’d probably have been excited, and like Laurie, disappointed that I hadn’t left him my number. Again, I can’t keep my mind from drifting back to that night, and a wave of heat courses through my body. It had only been sex, great sex, but thinking about it, it felt like so much more.
Maybe if I had come clean and told him that I wasn’t actually a hooker, we could have come to some sort of mutually beneficial and sexually rewarding arrangement. Maybe I could even have kept on pretending to be a prostitute, hooking up with him whenever he called. I’d be Rachel Foster, Gilt employee by day, and Landon Court’s whore by night.
The prospect is disturbingly appealing.
Shaking the thought out
of my head, I turn back to my screen. Landon Court has probably forgotten that I exist. Which means that the only reasonable thing to do is to forget about him too.
THE VIP pass allows us to bypass the long queue outside the lounge. Once inside, a hostess clad in a revealing, but classy mini-dress leads us through the club to a raised area overlooking the dance floor, where she shows us to our table.
“The manager will be with you soon,” she tells me, before her eyes shift to Brett as she surreptitiously checks him out. “Drinks are on the house.”
“Thank you,” Brett drawls in reply.
The hostess smiles, her eyes still alternating between his wiry muscles and his face. “I’ll send a waiter,” she says finally, before leaving.
As soon as she’s gone, Brett lets out a whistle. “This is some swanky joint,” he says, grinning at me, and already nodding his head to the music. He’s tall and fit, with curly black hair and intense dark eyes. Like Laurie, he’s a great dancer. He used to be an associate at the same firm where Laurie works, but he left to pursue a career in fitness. He co-owns a trendy gym close to our apartment, but hasn’t been able to get either Laurie or me interested in squats, lunges or whatever other exercise move people are doing these days.
“The staff shouldn’t make eyes at the customers though,” Laurie says drily. “That hostess was totally checking you out.”
Brett leans over and kisses her nose, making her laugh. “I didn’t notice. Only gat eyes for my baby.”
“Seriously, you should get these kinds of assignments more often, Rach,” Laurie declares, flirting hostess already forgotten, as a waitress approaches our table.
We order drinks. “So where’s the manager?” Brett asks. He has one hand on Laurie’s lap, and she’s leaning into him. Even in public, they’re unable to keep their hands off each other. They’re the third nauseatingly happy couple in my family, my parents and Laurie’s parents being the other two. Soon Dylan will fall in love and join them, and then I’ll probably have to buy a box full of cats and resign myself to my fate.
“She’s probably on her way,” I reply to Brett’s question, looking around at the suits in the VIP area as I search for a woman who might be the one I spoke to on the phone. The song playing segues neatly into another one, a new track with what Laurie would call a ‘sick’ beat. She’s practically dancing on her seat. If I weren't here, she would be on the dance floor with Brett..
Our drinks arrive. “Why don’t you two hit the dance floor?” I suggest.
“And leave you here all alone?” Laurie shakes her head. “We’ll finish our drinks first.”
They down their drinks in record time, while I nurse mine, knowing I have to keep my head straight for my interview. Luckily, I don’t have to urge them to leave me again as the manager arrives just as Brett sets his glass down.
The slightly built woman who joins us is dressed in dark pants and a white formal blouse, a sharp contrast from the hostesses. “Rachel Foster?” She gives me a questioning look before extending her hand. “I’m trying to match you to the picture on your magazine’s website. I’m Marjorie Lake.”
I shake her hand. “Nice to meet you. This is my cousin Laurie, and Brett, her boyfriend.”
“Great!” She smiles at them, “You guys having fun?”
“Mmm hmm,” Laurie nods, “and your DJ is something else.”
“We’re going to dance,” Brett says, getting up and holding out a hand for Laurie. “See you later.”
Marjorie settles down beside me on the soft leather seats, which are arranged in a cozy semi-circle around a small table. “We already prepared some material,” she says, “pictures, notes, highlights… I have a printout, but I’ve also emailed them all to you.”
I go through the material she gives me, asking her questions and typing my notes into the document app on my phone. “You seem to be doing so well already,” I remark when we’re done. Judging by the line of people outside, and the number of famous faces I’ve spotted in the VIP since we arrived, I’d guess that Insomnia was already one of the top ten lounges in the city.
“Yes,” Marjorie agrees. “We already have a lot of buzz… I suppose the senior management wants to expose the club to a larger client base.”
“Well, you can never have too much exposure.”
I check my phone to make sure I’ve received her email with the attachments, then I hand the stack of material back to her. “Thanks for taking the time to talk to me.”
“No problem.” She gets up. “Enjoy yourself,” she adds with a smile, before leaving.