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While we both studied in England, I started law school at the age of fifteen and managed to complete my studies and graduate by the time I turned eighteen. On the other hand, Bailey began medical school at fifteen and graduated at nineteen.
And it was the best thing that ever happened to us. It has always been us against everyone. My brother was our rock when we came back home from school, sobbing from the bullying we faced. But he is 10 years older and was away most of the time because of the military. He still is, and even though we’re close to him, the relationship is not the same.
“I missed you too, Peanut,” I say, using the nickname Aidan gave her when she was younger. She was fascinated with peanuts and feeding elephants. I know she loathes the nickname, but I can feel a lump in my throat, and I don’t want to ruin the moment.
“So, what’s new with you since the last time I saw you?” I raise my eyebrow. She’s playing with her bracelet. I know she’s hiding something.
“Oh, nothing new. You know,” she answers, lifting her shoulders, “the hospital takes most of my time.”
“Sooo, no man on the horizon?” At the sound of my question, her face flushes with embarrassment. I KNEW IT.
“Baby sis?” I tease her.
“Don’t baby sis me, for fuck’s sake. You were born literally one minute before me,” she fires back.
“Still counts, though. Now, answer the question. And do not lie to me. Your cheeks turned the same shade as the bright red lipstick I have on.” She sighs, sounding heavy with resignation, knowing that I won’t let it go. She’s seeing someone, and I’m determined to know who and why she didn’t say anything about it.
“Fine. I’m seeing this guy from work. It’s nothing serious. He just got divorced, and we’re just having some fun,” she explains.
“Wait a minute. Are you telling me you’re having a friends-with-benefits kind of relationship with him? You? The lover of love?” I’m speechless.
My sister had one relationship after Jay, and it wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns. I know she’s been hurt like I’ve been. But knowing she’s literally having several one-night stands with the same guy surprises me. Aye, because it’s several one-night stands for me if there’s no romantic relationship.
“Shut up. Aye, I am, and so what? Everybody needs relief sometimes, and he’s not unpleasant to the eyes. You should try it. Some guys can do this thing with their tongue —” I cut her off, not wanting to hear about any guy’s tongue tricks.
“Hey, I didn’t say anything. I’m glad you’re happy, that’s all.” A smile forms on my lips. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to wait to meet him? That’s a legit question. Don’t give me that look.” My grin grows wider, knowing full well that she is itching to punch me.
Before Emilie comes into view, I hear her shouts. “Let’s gooo bitchesss. Get your pretty arses dressed up. We’re going out tonight!” Her eyes dart back and forth between us, searching for any sign of a reaction to her outburst. “Hush, don’t give me that look. We’re going out whether you like it or not. We’ve been working our arses off for days now on ‘You-Know-Who’s’ case, and before that, it has been nonstop.” Her references to Harry Potter in any situation amaze me each time. “Plus,” she adds, “you can’t deprive me of men in kilts. I want to know for myself if the legend is true.”
“Wait, what legend are you talking about?” I ask.
Bailey laughs under her breath.
My question is apparently funny, but I still have no clue what she’s talking about.
“Blake,” my sister says like I'm five years old. “You know THE legend.” Now it’s Emilie’s turn to laugh. “I know you’ve been away for years now, but c’mon. Men. Kilt. She wants to know if they wear underwear beneath their kilts or if they’re completely naked,” she adds.
“Oooh, okay, now I feel dumb. But at the same time, what you said wasn’t clear.” I pout like a kid.
“Clear enough for me,” Em says. “Now, hop hop. I want you to put on your sexiest outfits. Bailey, do you have any alcohol in here?”
“There's vodka and tequila under the sink.” Emilie’s eyes widen, followed by a dramatic gasp at Bailey’s response.
“You criminal,” she says to Bailey. “Who puts alcohol under a sink? Don’t worry, baby. Tata Emilie is here to rescue you.” She lifts the bottle into her arms. My laughter is so intense that tears stream down my face, and Bailey clutches her sides in amusement.
“Did you really need to call yourself auntie while talking to the alcohol?” I ask, still amused.
“I swear, you French people have a problem with alcohol,” jokes Bailey.
“And you haven’t seen her with her wine yet,” I add.
“I can hear you both, smartass. Now, go get ready while Mama prepares shots,” she says, pushing us towards the bedrooms. And like the obedient soldiers that we are, we go get ready even if my want to chill is stronger tonight. But Emilie deserves a good night of fun after the crazy months we’ve had.
We arrive at the Dust Club around 11 p.m. The music is thumping through the door, already vibrating through my body. We pass the security with no issues. I guess being three young women does the trick. This place is new to me, and even though I wasn’t a party girl before, it looks like a fresh new building.
The smell of alcohol fills my nostrils once we’re inside. The music dominates the room, and the beautifully crafted decor catches my eye, making this club stand out from the few others I have visited. A lounge is on the right, with dark, velvety sofas and round tables in the middle. The bar counter is classy with dark marble on the top and what I guess are dark green velvet bar stools. Everyone looks like they’re enjoying their time. This is exactly the kind of atmosphere I would opt for if I had a nightclub, and the colours are exactly what I would have picked for my own house.
Deep green. Like… Nope, I’m not going there.
