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“Well, the fact that I had to bust down the door should give you some clue.”
The music changes, an old song by the Cranberries. A man appears at the other end of the bar, raising a hand to get the bartender’s attention. It’s Ben.
I shove the long island iced tea aside and get up from the stool, leaning close to Rigger. “What’s done is done. Maybe tonight’s message was … grab life by the balls. And since you’re single now and don’t have anyone to answer to, this club would be a good place to start.”
He flits his gaze at me but I push my way past the few people who have gathered nearby, strolling past Ben so I can do what I came here to do. With my skin-tight leggings, tall heels, and silky top, I should get his attention fast. With my hips swaying and arms up in the air, I find a small place to bump and grind these thoughts to another dimension. I’m never myself right after a kill. And Rigger knows this. Why he’s trying to lecture me is beyond me.
I dance alone, occasionally looking toward the bar. Rigger is sitting in his same spot but the second I look his way, he focuses on his phone. Ben, however, is locked onto me. I’ve got him right where I want him. When we lock eyes he sets his drink down. It looks like a club soda, so maybe he was being honest when he said he didn’t drink.
He walks my way and a nervous flutter ripples through me. The lighting is low enough that, like I told Rigger, he shouldn’t recognize me in my natural blond state. However, there’s always that chance. And this different approach to getting what I want comes with an increased risk.
His walk is confident. I try to ignore the way my body responds to him, explaining it away as animal instinct. Nothing more. With his tongue gliding along his upper lip, he looks me up and down. I smile and wiggle closer to him and he must take that as an invitation to wrap an arm around my waist and pull me close. Like he has no boundaries.
“Sorry. You looked lonely,” he says into my ear.
“No apology necessary.”
When the song ends and switches to something fast-paced, he stops dancing. “You want to hang outside? It’s a little cooler.”
“Sure.”
He leads me by the hand to the back of the bar. I catch Rigger’s attention on the way, noticing his forehead creasing. I flash a victorious smile.
Outside the club is a deck with multi-colored string lights around a gazebo on the right, and a bar on the left surrounded by tiki torches. Cool air moves around me.
“What can I get you to drink?”
“Something fruity and virgin.”
“Got it.”
I sit at a chair that overlooks the back of a bookstore. Pressure squeezes at my temples. I’m pushing myself too hard tonight. It’s been a long ass day and I’m exhausted. But I’ve already come this far so I’m not changing my game plan now. I also feel a little bad for abandoning Rigger but he’s a big boy. Hopefully he’ll find a way to keep himself entertained.
When Ben comes back, he sets my drink in front of me, pink and yellow with whipped cream and a maraschino on top. “Here you go. Cherry pineapple.” He sits next to me, holding a clear, fizzy drink.
“Thank you. Looks delicious.”
After giving a quick nod, he clinks his glass to mine. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” I take a sip, hoping he didn’t slip a roofie in it.
“Not too often you find a girl here who doesn’t drink. Or are you just laying off the booze tonight?”
“I drink. Just not tonight. And I love to dance.”
“Silver Club is a good place for that.”
“Seems to be.” This guy is different from the Ben I was dealing with last week. More reserved but still slightly aggressive, he almost seems … nice. I’m perplexed as to what I’m dealing with here.
“Never seen you in here before. You from out of town?”
“Yeah. Just moved here from Arizona.”
He quirks an eye. “To Glendale?”
“Not sure yet. I’m staying at a hotel in Malibu while I figure out where I want to settle.”
“I have family here in Atwood Village. It’s a nice area. Cultured, quiet. But still plenty to do.”
