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Yet the visceral need to punch fake Barbie in the throat was more revealing than I’d like.
Liam, on the other hand, had proven to be exactly what I had made him out to be – a man whore.
Six o’clock had never taken longer to come, and to add insult to injury, Liam had kept his door wide open. I had no idea where we were going tonight, but the booze better be strong and flowing. I had memories to erase.
Alison had been out of reach the whole day, except for that embarrassing video she had sent wishing me a happy birthday. If only she knew how that was going. She was the only one, actually. Not even my father had called or texted me. He must have forgotten, as usual.
I looked up from the drawings sprawled all over my desk, Liam’s green eyes meeting mine straight away. As I bore my gaze into them, I decided I had had enough. I could regret it tomorrow, but tonight, I’d erase the shit out of him.
He was still staring right at me, and as soon as the clock turned six, I stormed out of the office, heading straight home before that conviction waivered.
I’d leave nothing to chance, deciding to pull that full lingerie set I bought on Amazon out of the box, paired with the slutty black dress I had bought yesterday with Alison, high heel boots that ended just above my knees, and a leather jacket.
I was dressed and made-up to kill tonight. My confidence needed the boost, and my bruised ego thanked me as I took my reflection in.
I wasn’t worthy of his affection, that’s what it said back to me, but today, I chose not to listen. I couldn’t or I’d break.
Alison rang from downstairs. She was waiting for me, and suddenly my boost started to give in again, and I wished I was staying home instead. I closed my eyes, shook my head, and took in a sharp inhale, ignoring the derogatory thoughts.
“Damn girl, you look dirty hot.” Alison practically shouted from the car while I made my way over towards her. I did feel sexy, but my mood certainly wasn’t matching my outfit.
“You look reasonable, too, Alison. Who could have guessed you could look even slightly attractive,” I teased her. Alison was an absolutely beautiful woman. She didn’t need makeup, fake lashes, or fake boobs to turn heads everywhere she went. Tonight, though? She was ravishing, her green eyes sparkling in contrast with her devilishly sexy red dress, while her straight dark hair framed her face perfectly. She knew what she looked like and used it to her advantage.
“Shut up.” She nudged me as I got in the car. “Let’s get you wasted, shall we?”
“Maybe?” I hesitated.
“That’s not the answer I was looking for. Getting you out of your own head tonight is my personal project. I can sense you need to have fun. Live a little, moral code be damned.”
The image of Michelle stepping out of Liam’s office with her lipstick all smudged around her lips came back, stomping all over my mood again, and I needed that to stop. I needed to find a way to put Liam out of my mind for good.
“I think you’re right! Let’s do this. Are there any hot guys in this club you’re taking me to?”
Chapter 10
Jamie
The club was absolutely incredible. The epitome of luxury and indulgence, packed to the brim with people in matching description.
Dea Tacita read the slick, backlit, metal plaque at the entrance. Exuberantly posh didn't quite cover the feel of this place. It was like I’d stepped into a different dimension made up of architectural finesse, good taste, and money. Lots and lots of money.
Alison had reserved us a table in the VIP section. She had told me she had connections here, and by the way we slipped past the long line at the entrance, her connections were damn good.
There was a bottle of Dom Perignon dipped in ice waiting for us on the table, with two flutes and a small birthday cake, the fake candles glowing a shimmering light in the darkened space.
“Happy birthday, Jamie.” Alison hugged me, her gesture bringing tears to my eyes. “No, ma’am. None of that tonight. This is a fun night, we can leave the mushy crying for tomorrow.”
We both stood closer to the tall table while a blonde woman opened the bottle of champagne, filling our glasses, before cutting the cake and serving it on golden plates.
Just as we toasted, a tall man stepped behind Alison, snaking his hand around her stomach before doing the same to me, pulling us flush against his body to whisper into our ears, “You pretty ladies want to do a line or two with us?”
He nudged towards the table next to ours, where a line of white powder was neatly stretched, and everything inside me froze at the sight. Alison tore out of his grasp, pulling me with her and stepping between us in a protective stance.
Her neck craned left and then right before she settled back down, her shoulders slumping from the stiff alert they had previously gained with an exhale of relief. Not even a second later, what seemed like an army of men crowded the space, the dirty blonde one in a black suit snatching my champagne glass from my hand and throwing the contents onto the pile of cocaine.
“Fuck, man. What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The other guy protested at the loss of his goods.
His glacial blue eyes tore from the man’s back to meet Alison’s, a small nod and a sly smile towards her showing me they knew each other. He was intense and beyond handsome, intimidating and dashing in equal measures.
