“In all fairness, I didn’t know he would do that.”
He taps his cellphone and shows me a picture. Kingston’s ears are up and pointed, his tail is curled, and his mouth hangs open, smiling. How many pictures did he take of the dog? I say, “I hope you’re prepared for a camera roll filled with Kingston in various locations and positions.”
“Three isn’t enough?”
“Not even close.” I laugh.
A few minutes later, he’s pulling into a back alley. It’s dirty, with trash piled around the walls. I’m pretty sure there’s a family of rats playing dodge ball in the dumpster. Joey puts his hand on my back and leads me to a green metal door. Before he can knock, the hinges scream as they open. A man, who has to be as big as the frame, steps into the light.
“Boss. I’ll let Cam know you’re here.”
There’s a very distinct shift now. He’s not Joey, the new pet owner who has been sneaking glances at my thighs while driving. No, his body is tighter, he stands taller, and there’s a coldness to him I wasn’t expecting.
Shit. He really is a mob boss.
Joey says nothing as he steps inside, but his hand wraps around my wrist. He guides me, and his grip is light. When a man with slicked-back hair and tattoos running up and down his arm almost bumps into me, Joey’s grip tightens, and he shifts his body as if to shield me.
The bass rattles the floor, but it’s not overwhelming. We walk in through the back of the hallway, offices on one side, boxes of open T-shirts on the other.
Joey grumbles when he sees it. “Strike one. Merch is tacky.”
We continue through the inner workings, down twisting hallways, staff moving as fast as they can. Our guide opens another steel door, and for a second, everything goes dark and vanishes.
Lush leather, soft lighting, with an overall elegant design magically appears. This is giving the same vibes as karaoke a few nights ago. VIP. We’re in the VIP section.
We lord over the commoners dancing on the main floor. Joey’s hand is on my back as he scans the room. But the pretty lights and the high-end fashion make everything feel so fancy. I’ve never seen so many red bottom shoes in one location. Do people really live like this, it’s not just some filter for social media?
The Narrator Lady whispers, “you don’t belong here.”
And I agree.
Joey glances down at me with a quick side smile before guiding me to a table where a man holds court, laughing and charming everyone around him. He’s older than us, I think. I’m shit at telling people’s ages. His head is shaved, giving him less of an evil Lex Luther and more of an elegant Mr. Clean vibe. As soon as he sees us, he jumps to his feet, making a quick gesture with his hand and the rest of the table gathers their drinks and scurries away.
“Thanks for coming.”
“Of course, Cam,” Joey says. Cam’s eyes drift over to me. Instantly with an air of authority, he says, “This is Jenny.” Wow, my name has never sounded so important before.
I wave. “Hi.”
“Hello.” He acknowledges me but turns his attention right back to Joey.
They start talking about business stuff, and normally I would be interested, but I’m too focused on the detailing of the tablecloths and the sparkles in the glasses. The crowd dances and sings to the act on the stage, a DJ who plays remixes of pop songs I know every word to. My hips sway back and forth as the music pulses my own heartbeat.
But suddenly there’s a change in the crowd—not the dancing one, but the people in the VIP section.
I’m sure my jaw drops fast, nearly unhinging itself and landing at my feet. Gross. Not a pretty image, because what about the skin and my chin. No. Instead, let’s say I’m fucking floored. Because the single most stunning man I’ve ever seen floats toward us.
He’s the epitome of quiet luxury. If Joey is dressed to kill, then this man is dressed to revive—dark hair perfectly styled, crisp facial hair just the right length, piercing blue eyes. Do I know who he is? Yes, yes, I do. Has he entered many of my late-night fantasies in the form of a demon with two tails? Again, yes. I am standing within ten feet of music icon Grae.
But it’s the man next to him I recognize, and I squeal in delight. “Darren!” I bounce a few times and dash over to throw my arms around him.
“Shit, Jenny! Girl, how’ve you been?” He’s all smiles. There’s a few extra wrinkles around his eyes, and one or two gray hairs since the last time I saw him, but the man still looks great.
“I’m good. Keeping busy. You?”
He slaps Grae on the shoulder. “Trying to keep this one alive.”
Behind me, Joey clears his throat, his eyes flashing the same rage he had at the vet. Ohhhhh shit, did I do something wrong?
