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“He’s my boss.”
“Technically, he’s an interim boss, and it’s not illegal.”
I rolled my eyes at her persistence. “It may not be illegal, but it’s wrong.”
“You’re not attracted to him?”
I took a sip of my water. “I am attracted to him, but that’s all it is. An attraction.”
“Interesting.”
Very.
We wrapped up our meal, settled the bill, and left the restaurant. It’s been a while since I was drunk and tonight felt like the perfect night for it.
“Your dress looks perfect on you,” Abigail exclaimed, glancing at me. I took off the sweatshirt I was wearing when we entered the club.
“Great way of telling me you want to sleep with me.”
“I’ll be more straightforward next time,” she smirked, and we walked to the entrance.
It was always fun to know that I could be myself around her. I didn’t have that level of love, connection, fun, and vibe with anyone else.
The club was a typical loud and colorful scene. There were bartenders at every corner, strippers on the poles, workers walking up and down waiting tables, and even a VIP section.
“What for you pretty ladies?” The bartender asked.
“I’ll have scotch on the rocks, and she’ll have some whites, neat.”
Laughing in shock, he asked, “Are you sure you ladies can handle that?”
“Are you doubting us?”
“I’ll get you those drinks.”
“That’s what I thought,” I said and turned to look at Abigail. Twelve back-to-back scotches later, and I was seeing stars.
“You’re drunk,” Abigail said.
“We’re drunk.”
I came up with the brightest idea to enter the VIP section.
What’s the worse that could happen?
“You can’t enter without a VIP pass,” the guard, dressed in a full black suit, told us.
“How much?” I asked, looking at him.
“No cash. A pass,” he said, raising his voice even louder. That slapped the weariness out of me.
“You don’t have to be an ass,” Abigail shouted, sort of making a scene.
“You need a—”
“Let them in,” a strange, rough, yet familiar voice shouted.
“But sir—”
