"No." I shake my head as I let the clutch go. "It's not real. I'm only twenty. I won't be twenty-one for another ten days."
I don't see Barry's expression as he falls on his ass. My eyes are glued to my clutch and as it flies out of his grasp and through the air, I say a silent prayer that the broken clasp will hold tight.
It doesn't.
All I can do is cover my eyes as the contents of my clutch spill out and into the view of virtually everyone in the room who has stopped to stare at the commotion we caused. I hear the faints gasps and giggles as my phone, the six condoms, two ten dollar bills and the fake ID tumble to the floor right next to the brand new shiny handcuffs I brought with me.
***
"You look like shit, Isla."
If I'd bothered to look in a mirror today, I'd probably see it for myself. I've avoided it on purpose. In fact, this is the first time I've been up all day and I only got as far as the sofa.
I'd fallen into my bed right after I was dropped off. The woman from the club had not only walked me to the curb, she'd climbed into the front seat of a dark sedan that stopped on the street after she'd ushered me into the back.
I had given my address when asked, never questioning why I wasn't tossed from the club to fend for myself. It wasn't until I woke this morning that
I realized that she had also helped me into the building and stayed with me until I closed my apartment door after thanking her for everything.
"I had too much to drink last night." I take a sip from the water bottle I've been holding in my hand for the past thirty minutes. "Do you have any aspirin?"
"I have something that will help." Cassia marches across the living room towards where she dropped her purse when she got home five minutes ago. "Did you have a date? Where did you go that you got so loaded?"
I went to a kinky club because I like to be handcuffed and spanked until my ass is on fire, Cass. What did you do last night?
"No date," I confess. "I haven't met anyone since I've been in New York."
Her brows perk up as she fishes a bottle of ibuprofen from out of her purse. "You haven't met anyone? I guess that makes sense. You work in a lingerie store. It must be all women, all the time."
It's not. At least half the customers are men either looking for something for their woman or men looking for someone to give them a free fashion show. "You wouldn’t believe how many men come into Liore wanting to get off in the change rooms."
"You're kidding." Her voice explodes into the space, reverberating through my still sore brain. I swear even my eyelashes hurt today. I open the bottle and pop two pills into my mouth, using the last of the water to wash them down.
"I'm serious," I say quietly, hoping she'll take the hint and temper her tone. "It's happened to me a few times."
"You don't ever actually do it, do you? Tell me you don't."
I should be offended by the question but I can't be. Cassia knows me better than anyone. She was the one who laughed alongside me when I got caught in the art supply closet in high school with the captain of the debate team. We were only kissing but it was enough for yet another warning in my file.
"I don't," I say honestly. "It's against company policy. I wouldn't risk it."
"I'm surprised by how much you like this job." She walks into the kitchen. "I know it's just temporary but you're killing it there."
I am killing it. I got paid yesterday and with all the commissions I've earned, my check was the biggest it's ever been. If I didn't have any other direction for my life, I might stay at Liore for a year or two.
I can't let that happen though. I made a promise to myself and selling lingerie for the next three, or four, or more years of my life isn't part of that.
"Have you decided whether you're going to audition yet?" She walks back into the room carrying a glass of orange juice. "Here, drink this."
I tentatively take the glass from her hands as I look up at her face. Her olive skin is glowing. Her hazel eyes surrounded by long, beautiful lashes. She rarely wears any make-up. She's never had to. Her natural beauty rivals any woman I've ever met.
"No, not yet. I need more time to think about it."
"There's a woman I work with at Hughes Enterprises. I was telling her about you and…"
"You told her about me?" I interrupt. "What did you tell her?"
"The regular stuff anyone would tell another person about their best friend." She nervously shifts from one foot to the other. "You have a lot in common."