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She peeks over her shoulder, looking down at her butt. ‘I don’t have an arse.’
‘No, because God gave your quota to me.’
She laughs. ‘You have an amazing arse. Curvy. Womanly. Mine looks like it’s been dragged down a cheese grater.’
I chuckle, opening the door and gesturing for Lucy to lead on, which she does after curtseying on a giggle. ‘Have you been drinking already?’ I ask, catching a whiff of wine.
‘Just a glass while I was getting ready.’
‘Hey, don’t peak too early.’ I’m looking forward to a night out to drown my sorrows. Or drain out my thoughts. Either will suffice. I’ve seen Lucy smashed. She’s a handful.
‘Oh, be quiet.’ She pulls me to a stop, her amusement falling away, and she holds me in place with serious eyes.
‘What?’ I ask, nervous.
‘Whatever happens tonight,’ she begins, and I frown, wondering what’s coming next. ‘Don’t let me go home with a man.’
‘Should that be a concern?’
She sniffs and reaches into her bag, taking out her blood-red lipstick and reapplying. ‘Well, you know. We’re both looking pretty hot tonight. And my willpower sucks when I’m pissed.’
I raise my eyebrows at her, waiting for her straight expression to crack. It takes roughly two-point-five seconds. We both crack up, giggling uncontrollably as I link my arm through hers as we start to sashay towards the main road. ‘Okay,’ I agree. ‘But the same goes for me, not that it’s likely to happen.’
‘Famous last words.’ Lucy chuckles.
We enter the club via an old factory-style lift, the original mechanism visible through the bars as it creeps up a couple of floors. A doorman on the other side pulls the sliding door open. ‘You’re good to go,’ he rumbles, swooping his arm out.
‘Wow.’ I gulp, my mouth gaping as the club floor comes into view. Everything is white, with pink lighting illuminating the stark space. An enormous circular bar holds court in the centre of the room, the dance floor surrounding it edged in tubular lighting that’s flashing from pink to white constantly.
‘Pretty cool, huh?’ Lucy directs us over to one of four bridges that crosses the dance floor to the bar.
‘Yeah,’ I agree, taking in the atmosphere. Eurythmics ‘Sweet Dreams’ is pumping, the dance floor is packed, and the bar is ten deep. Not that my final observation registers with Lucy. She pushes her way through, dragging me behind her, and I follow her indication when she points up, seeing a sign stating ‘VIP GUESTS’ glowing above our heads.
‘What makes us VIPs?’
‘These.’ She flashes two pink cards. ‘Mark gave them to me.’ She grins. ‘Even though I told him I was busy tonight.’
‘Found out if the rumours about him and the girl from floor eighteen in the printing room are true?’
‘Sadly, yes.’
‘Oh. How?’
She shrugs. ‘I asked the girl from floor eighteen.’
‘That was rather bold of you.’
She snorts, just as a barman arrives. ‘What are we having?’
‘Grey Goose and tonic. Make it a double,’ I say, turning my back on the bar and glancing up, seeing podiums scattered around the club with half-naked women adorning them, dancing suggestively. ‘Wow.’
‘The Bubblegum Girls?’ Lucy passes me a highball, and my lips find the straw without taking my eyes off one of the girls atop a podium.
‘Bubblegum Girls?’
‘Yes, he told me about them. He’s probably had a few.’
‘He?’ I look at Lucy, noting she’s nearly worked her way through her drink already.
‘Printer-room guy.’ She gives me a look. ‘Mark.’
‘And what does Mark look like?’
She shrugs nonchalantly. ‘Blond, beard, cute mole on his cheek. Come on.’ She starts pulling me away from the bar before I can press her on Mark, but I make a mental note to do so once we’ve found a base in the club.
‘Are you on a mission tonight?’ I ask.
‘Yes.’ We arrive at a cornered-off section, with booths lining the curved wall. Lucy flashes her pink card to the doorman keeping guard, looking over her shoulder and winking at me when he grants us immediate access.
‘Pick a table, girls,’ he grunts, indicating a few empty ones in the centre. ‘It’s yours for the rest of the evening.’
I give Lucy wide eyes, and she giggles before hotfooting it over to one right in the middle with a perfect view over the dance floor. We get comfy and I glance up to see one of the Bubblegum Girls approaching.
She sets a bottle of champagne in the middle of the table with two glasses. ‘I’m Evette. I’ll be serving you this evening.’ She smiles, resting her weight on her hip. ‘Champagne is courtesy of management.’
‘Then keep it flowing,’ Lucy says, grabbing the bottle and pouring. ‘We’ll take another in about ten minutes.’
Bubblegum Girl sashays away as Lucy pops the cork and pours. ‘Hey, calm down,’ I warn when she downs her full glass in one swoop. ‘What’s the rush?’
‘No rush,’ she says, topping it back up. I eye her warily across the table, suspicious, her words from the bar still at the forefront of my mind. Her eyes are flicking back and forth to a table of blokes not too far away, and after observing her for a few moments, seeing her jaw tightening by the second, I turn to see what’s got her attention. A guy. Quite a hot guy, with blond hair and a well-trimmed beard. I can’t see the cute mole, but I’d put my life on the fact that it’s there.
