“No,” I say absently.“Hey—” I shrug my shoulder in Jaeger’s direction.“That doesn’t bother you?”
Gen glances over.“What, Jaeger and that woman?Why would it?”
“I thought you guys were, you know, hanging out.”
Her gaze flutters to me, and her shoulders tense as though she’s uncomfortable.“We’re friends.”
Gen hands a stack of dollar bills to the bartender.Waitresses give bartenders a percentage of their tips at the end of their shifts.She turns to me.“Ready to go?”
Gen and I generally tell each other everything, but lately, that doesn’t seem to be true.Each of us seems to be holding something back.I’m not ready to disclose my feelings for Jaeger, and I’ve sensed for a while that Gen’s keeping something from me too.
We change in the Blue basement, where we discover Nessa has invited someone else to our girls’ night.Lewis’s beautiful girlfriend, Mira, will be joining us.
This should be interesting.
I’m wearing heels, jeans, and a blousy, low-cut tank.Gen’s in jeans as well, but her top is less revealing.Her boobs are bigger than mine, but she refuses to display them to full advantage.
The only way to get to the Blue nightclub is by passing the lounge.I tell myself I won’t peek, but of course I do.Jaeger is still sitting with the pretty woman, his head bowed toward her as she leans on his arm and speaks near his ear.
I clench my fist, nails grinding into my palm.He hasn’t once acknowledged Gen or me this evening.I wouldn’t have pegged Jaeger for a player, but flirting with me, then taking Gen out, and now hooking up with an older woman?What the hell?
We walk inside the club, the steady pulse of dance music washing over me in a wonderfully distracting way.The only thing that could make the vision of Jaeger and the woman sliming on him less vivid would be a shot of Cuervo, or Patrón if I’m in the mood to pamper myself, which I damn well am.
Fortunately, I’m with three attractive women.It doesn’t take long before men start buying us drinks.Mira may be hostile, but she’s unbelievably beautiful and luring all kinds of attention to our booth.Before I know it, I’ve downed five shots.A warm numbness settles over my limbs.
I slide from my seat.“Going dancing.Anyone wanna come?”
Gen shakes her head, posture slumped, eyelids drooping.She’s well pasttipsyand teetering onhammered.
It’s safe to say I’m not the most conventional female, but Gen is, and seeing her drunk is funny as hell.I pull out my iPhone and snap a picture.
Her mouth parts in slow motion.“Heyyy!”
Before she makes a grab for my phone to purge the awesome photo I caught of her drunk off her ass, I swagger away, swinging my hips to the music.
I don’t care that I’m on the dance floor by myself, waving my arms in the air like a lunatic.I could be making a perfect idiot of myself, but all that matters is that I don’t feel anything.
Not a damn thing.
No humiliation over the way Eric dumped me, no fear about the future, not even the jumble of emotions Jaeger elicits.
A new song transitions from the last and I shut my eyes, moving to the rhythm.Within seconds my balance wavers and I blink, throwing out my arms.I search for a visual horizon above the moving bodies to stop the spinning.My gaze lands on the wide, overcrowded bar off to the side.A tall blonde in a red dress looks over and our gazes connect.She looks an awful lot like Jaeger’s sister.
I slam my eyes shut and twist around.When I open them, the Kerstin lookalike is gone, but so is my balance.I stumble to the side like a child in high heels.A pair of arms brackets me from behind.
I swivel my head up and around.I’m pretty sure the guy supporting me is attractive, but the dance floor is dark, with blue and purple flashing lights.Given the heavy buzz I have going on, I could be totally off base.Then again, what has good-looking ever gotten me?
He smiles and slides his arms down to my waist.I spin around and drape my hands behind his neck.He immediately pulls me close until our hips grind, the scent of heavy cologne and perspiration choking me as we sway to the music.Dampness seeps through his shirt and onto my fingers, and though he doesn’t smell bad, he doesn’t smell appealing.
Without waiting for the song to end, I slip from his grasp, evading his grabby hands, and push through the crowd to the nearest exit off the dance floor.Where I end up is a different part of the club entirely, filled with lounge-style sofas and small square tables.
Where am I?
I glance around, searching for my friends, and recognize someone else.Seated at the table in front of me is one of the executives who hangs out after work watching Gen in the lounge.One of the trollers.
He and the guy he often hangs with look alike from a distance.I can’t tell if this is the guy I saw leaving the motel with the waitress or if it’s the other one.They both have businesslike short hair and symmetrical features.The only reason I can distinguish either of them from a million other preppy professionals is because they’re young for casino executives, and they each wear Blue insignia rings.
I’ve only seen a few executives in possession of the Blue rings.Zach, the dealer who’s friends with Nessa, filled me in on Blue protocol and how management receives thick gold bands with sapphires for exemplary performance.The two trollers wear them, and it’s one reason I recognized one of these guys leaving a motel room the day I ran errands.
