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“Diamonds?”
“That’s right.”
“It’s located on Brick Lane and only opened about two months ago. Entrance to the club is by invite only. The owners are particular about the clientele they invite into the club.”
“That so?” I question, raising a brow. “Are they sure they know what they’re doing inviting you then?”
He chuckles. “This is one of the most exclusive clubs in London owned by some very rich businessmen.”
“Businessmenyouhappen to know.” I raise my brows. “I thought you only rubbed shoulders with the criminals of this world.”
“Who said they’re not criminals?”
“Right.”
“Are you up for it, Pen?”
“It’s a school night.”
“I promise to have you back in bed by midnight.” He gives me a salacious grin that would’ve been creepy on anyone else but on him is sexy as fuck. “Well, what do you think? A few drinks with an old friend, maybe even a dance?” He cocks his head at me, his dark hair falling in his eyes. My stomach flip-flops as I feel that familiar pull between us.
“Sure, why the fuck not,” I say, flippantly. What’s the worst that could happen? David wants me to get close to the Breakers and Jeb was willing to sell me on to the highest fucking bidder so does he really give a shit if I go out on a date with his nephew?
“Good. I’ll send a car to pick you up.”
“You’ll send a car? Aren’t we getting the bus?” I joke, grinning. We spent a lot of time travelling on buses and jumping trains as kids. Happy times.
“I’ve moved up a little in the world since we were kids, Pen. No more buses for my girl.”
“Your girl?” My stomach flips at that.
“That’s right,mygirl. Be ready at eight. I’ll be waiting for you at the club.”
“We’re not going together?”
“I’ve got some business to handle beforehand.”
“What business?”
“You open up to me. I open up to you,” he reminds me, before pressing a chaste kiss against my lips, then he strides off down the hallway leaving me with butterflies in my belly that I haven’t felt since I was a kid.
* * *
The grey Lexus—thatZayn arranged to collect me—pulls up outside a quieter section of Brick Lane, away from the main drag and the pubs and bars that dominate that end of the street.
“This is it?” I ask, eyeing the driver suspiciously. There’s nothing but a betting shop, pawn shop and a thrift store. All of which appear to be closed, though there are lights on in the pawn shop that smacks as odd given the time of night.
“This is the address I was told to drop you off at. Is there a problem, Miss?” the driver asks me.
“No, I guess not. Thank you.” I climb out of the car, slamming the door behind me. The driver pulls off, leaving me standing on the pavement nervously pulling at the hem of my dress. I wasn’t sure what to wear, but thankfully Clancy was willing to lend me her black halter neck dress in exchange for fully unabridged details of my date with Zayn tonight. She wasn’t impressed when I paired the dress with my trusty heeled biker boots but frankly it’s comfort over impracticality any day.
“Well, now what?” I mumble, peering into the pawn shop. It’s filled to the brim with all manner of items. There are musical instruments, cell phones and other electronics, antiques, collectables, jewellery and even bicycles lined up against one wall.
“Are you here to meet Mr Bernard?” A male voice asks me from the shadow of a doorway between the thrift store and the pawn shop.
“Fuck!” I exclaim, jumping almost out of my skin as a tall man with a bald held and thick shoulders steps out into the streetlight. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Ben. Are you Miss Scott?”
