Leigh snorted and looked at me with amusement.
“You don’t go clubbing much, do you? Girls like us don’t pay cover. We are the reason cover exists.”
I suppose it was flattering. It was also a little awkward since I only thought models were good enough for that level. Maybe I just really didn’t know the party scene like I thought I did.
“In any case, let’s go have fun after,” she said. “Let loose. Enjoy the night. And forget work!”
I promised myself to do so.
I just hoped work didn’t come to me while I was there.
* * *
Dinner turned into dessert, which turned into one round of drinks. That took us to about nine o’clock at night, at which point Leigh brought us to the nightclub, Luxx. At first, since we were early, it looked more like an empty laser tag arena, with strobe lights, purple backlight, and loud, energetic music.
I actually enjoyed this because Leigh and I were able to dance freely without awkward men coming to us. Sure, a few dudes stood around the edge and watched us perform, but it was early enough in the night that no one was drunkenly saying they loved us or wanted to take us home.
About two hours in, though, the socially adept men came through. And in short time, Leigh and I had become the ones posting up on the outside of the dance floor, not so much because we were done dancing but because it allowed the men to come to us.
Something strange, however, happened. I found myself disinterested in every single man that came by.
Well, that wasn’t unusual. What was, however, was why I was disinterested.
None of them had the balls that Satan had. None of them would say it like it was. They all asked questions I knew they didn’t give two shits about. “Oh, what’s it like being a TV reporter? That’s so cool.” “I feel like I’ve seen you on TV. What’s it like being famous?”
I could not give less of a fuck if I tried. Maybe I was taking on the club president’s attitude some. But these guys all clearly wanted us for a good fuck. There was no secret in that. So why they didn’t just get to the point and instead pretended that they somehow really liked us and wanted to take us out to coffee was…
Well, Hailey from before she’d partied with Satan might have found it disingenuous, but at least playing a part. Now, however, it just annoyed me.
Leigh, however, didn’t seem to have the same reservations. One of the guys, a black guy in a nice white button-down shirt, won her over. Not wanting to be left behind, I started dancing with his friend so I could be close. But I was honestly having none of it.
The guy was nice enough. But the fact that I didn’t even remember his name probably said it all. He was an awkward dance partner, and every time he tried to press his crotch into me, I turned around and sort of half danced in front of him like I was giving him a show.
But really, I was just trying to keep my distance.
More than once, I looked over and saw Leigh kissing the guy, and it left me wondering if I’d even get to say anything else to her for the night. It was fine if not; this was who Leigh was.
Then she waved me to the side and suggested we all do shots. She and her man for the evening did the whole wrap arms around each other thing as they took theirs; “my” guy and I stood a good few feet apart as we took ours. The shot, a gin one, went down smooth enough, but I pretended I needed a moment as I pulled out my phone to check my text messages.
The timing could not have been better because I got a call at that moment from a number I didn’t recognize. On the one hand, this didn’t make sense. It was past eleven on a Saturday night, and if anyone would have called me, it should have been someone saved in my contacts. More likely than not, it was probably someone spamming me or trolling me.
But on the other hand, the journalist in me couldn’t let a call like this go unanswered. Yes, Leigh had begged me to let loose and have a night out.
But Leigh…
Was currently making out hard with her guy. If they stayed in this club for more than another five minutes, I would have been shocked.
I excused myself away from the group as quickly as I could, hurrying to go to the outside where I figured there’d be the least amount of noise. I answered the call at the last second, worried whoever was calling wouldn’t bother with a voicemail or a callback.
“This is Hailey,” I said in the most sober voice I could muster.
“Tomorrow. Five p.m. at the Livery. Let’s meet there. I’ll be all the gentleman you want me to be.”
And then the line went dead.
Satan had…
Satan had just offered to take me out for drinks and maybe food?
