“I can’t believe you’re actually coming out with me!” Gemma squealed as she searched through her closet. “You never do!”
I leaned back into her fluffy pink papasan chair and stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers lining her yellowing ceiling. I couldn’t believe it either, but not for the same reason.
I should be requesting another solo assignment for the evening. But after that headache of a meeting, I wanted to forget everything to do with the Bratva.
Pretend that I was just Alisa tonight. Someone normal.
“How about this?” Gemma said, holding up a slinky black dress for me to try on.
Gorgeous. Too bad it’d show off the bruises that my father had decorated me with. With a sigh, I picked up my drink sitting on Gemma’s chipped nightstand, and dragged myself to the closet.
I plucked a long-sleeved sequin dress from her closet.
“You’re going to sweat to death,” she said with a raised eyebrow.
“Then let’s get so fucked up that I don’t care,” I said, laughing for the first time today.
A half hour and a shot later we shouldered our way up to the bar at a Chelsea nightclub.
“Hey,” a blond guy said, looking us both up-and-down like we were pieces of meat.
“He’s cute,” Gemma whispered.
I tilted my head and appraised the guy. During all of my previous one-night stands, my trusty pink vibe waiting patiently at home always ended up being the highlight of the evening.
Maybe this time would be different. As I stared at his dilated eyes and bulky shoulders, I waited to feel some heat. Anything.
Nothing.
With a sigh, I turned towards the bartender to order the fruity drinks I never got to drink when I was on assignments. The blond guy wrapped a sweaty arm around me. I shoved him off.
“Feisty,” he said. He smiled as if I was playing hard to get instead of severely uninterested.
He had no idea how accurate that descriptor would be if he dared touch me without my permission again. He wouldn’t be smiling then.
Gemma winked at me before moving in between the two of us, shielding me from his attention. I smiled at her while the guy glared at her, completely unaware that she was doing that for my sake.
The moment we had the drinks in hand, I hauled Gemma to the dance floor.
“So,” she yelled over the pounding music. “Any guys with potential?”
I shimmied against her, glad that the dress covered all of my bruises.
“Potentially disappointing,” I admitted.
No man had ever made me come. For some reason I kept trying, hoping the next one would be different.
I wasn’t holding my breath anymore.
“I’m going to grab some shots!” Gemma said after we’d sweated out some of the alcohol on the dance floor.
I shrugged and kept dancing. Nearby, a girl was giggling into a man’s ear. He said something back, and her lips cracked into a huge smile that encompassed her entire face.
Her expression was so open, so eager. I wanted one night of that. Setting aside all my anxieties, my walls. Just fun.
“Shots!” Gemma hooted, handing one over to me. “Let’s have some fun!”
With a smile, I clinked my plastic glass against hers and knocked back the drink.
