“Anyway,” Liv snaps me out of my thoughts. “Some of us are going to meet out at the sports bar we always hang out at after work today. Wanna come?”
She notices the hesitation on my face, so she goes in for the kill. “Come on, you never hang out with us. I can’t get out all the time, but Dax is off today and watching Kaden tonight.” She almost pouts, and it makes me laugh.
“Fine,” I wave my hand dismissively. “But I don’t get out of here until seven, maybe.”
She laughs. “Lucky for you, Emma and I are in charge of this hell pit tonight. Trust. You’ll be out in time.”
The day passes in a blur of patients and discharges, and before I know it, Emma comes over to let me know she is leaving. I check in with Liv’s replacement to let him know I’m going as well. He’s a kind physician assistant who’s taken a liking to me, but he doesn’t hold a candle to Vic.
Once I finish giving my report to the next shift, we make our way to the locker room, excitedly making plans for tonight. As we exit the building, a black SUV waits out front, its engine humming. A burly man holds the door open for her. She winks. “See you there, Dani,” she says, sliding into the back passenger seat. I nod and wave. But my thoughts are no longer on fun. The night air stirs with memories, and for an instant, I almost see him. Vic, waiting in the dark shadows that linger outside thebuilding. The ghost of his gaze follows me. I know it’s only my imagination, yet the ache of his absence coils around me, tight and suffocating. I have to break free of it, because the weight of missing him presses down on me so fiercely that it causes my steps to quicken and drives me toward the car.
As I reach it, Emma, who was waiting for me to get there, rolls down her window, and I catch sight of her husband, Eduardo, next to her. His gaze is cold, unyielding, and he’s staring straight at me from across the seat. “Don’t make me come get you, girl,” she warns. Her tone is playful, but the edge to it makes me hesitate before she winks, then rolls up the window and disappears down the street.
A shiver runs through me. The rush of danger prickles under my skin. It’s sharp, intoxicating, and makes me feel fucking alive. I realize this is what I’ve missed. I jump into the car, deciding it’s time I had some fun. I’m overdue for my dose of chaos.
I rush out the door in a flurry of excitement. For some reason, I am actually looking forward to tonight. I haven’t felt this happy or looked forward to something in a long time. Emma and Liv have been there for me since I started working as a tech in the emergency room while I was in school. They were there for me after my mom died. They didn’t know what was going on. No one did. However, when I failed to show up for work and risked getting fired, they discovered my address and showed up at my door. They had also endured their own family tragedies. I found out that Liv’s best friend died, and Emma’s parents both died in a terrible house fire. Our shared grief bonded us, and in the midst of all that pain, we forged a fast and unbreakable friendship.
Since I plan on consuming more than a few beverages tonight, I decide to take an Uber to the sports bar. Dressed in my favorite skinny black jeans, Doc Martens, and a croppedtee, I sling my crossbody bag over my shoulder and step out. The ride is mercifully short, mainly because the garlicky, tangy smell radiating from the driver’s pores in the front seat makes the air feel suffocating. I pull out my favorite travel-sized tube of Black Opium perfume and spritz myself lightly. The familiar scent grounds me, a small ritual I perform before stepping into the night.
The tinted windows don’t reveal much as I approach the front doors, but the moment I step inside, a roar erupts from several tables, where people are glued to the action on a football game. The place smells of beer, sweat, and fried food, and I almost consider leaving while I can. But as I scan the large area for my friends, I spot Emma standing on her stool, waving me over, as Liv holds her steady.
“What the…” I trail off as a grin forms across my face at her wild antics. I definitely don’t need her husband here. Overprotective doesn’t even begin to describe his behavior when it comes to his wife. And isn’t that her same driver sitting at the bar, shaking his head? He’s on his phone, and I strong suspicion about who he’s calling. I hurry over as Emma swings her legs off the stool, one arm still draped over it in balance as Liv holds onto her other.
I push my way through the crowd to meet them, and Emma wraps an arm around me. “I love that you’re my height.”
Liv comes over to embrace me. “Glad you made it, Dani.”
A cough comes from across the table. “Oh, yeah. This is my sister, Evie, and her better half, Jameson. Her eyes narrow at Emma as they both wave. Evie is clearly Emma’s twin with the same bright green eyes. But her red lipstick screams danger. And when she smiles, it's my favorite part. I grin back, showing off my own red lips and black nails that mirror hers. She smirks, then pivots her attention to her so-called “soulmate,” as Emmaonce dubbed him. I suspect she stalked him, too, as Emma insinuated. Hm. Another thought to tuck away for later.
A flicker of movement in my peripheral vision draws my gaze downward. “Here,” Emma says, sliding a dirty martini my way. The stemmed glass is frosted cold, beads of condensation sliding down its side. I take a slow sip, savoring the taste as it rolls off my tongue and slides down my throat. A soft, involuntary moan slips past my lips. Emma nearly chokes on her own drink. “Well,” she snorts, “that wasn’t pornographic at all.” Her grin is wicked, and her laugh is infectious. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel myself smiling, too.
“Great timing,” I say, taking another quick sip, careful not to drain the glass too quickly. Emma arches a single brow. It’s low-key freaky, but I let it slide because it probably looks like mine. My fingers trace slow circles along the rim of the martini glass. “You nailed it with this drink!” I tease, letting a smile tug at my lips. “Almost like you knew when I would get here and need it then. Perfect timing.”
“Oh, that.” She takes a sip of her drink—an appletini, its neon green liquid glows in the dim lighting. “I just tracked you getting into the Uber and had Gus order it at the bar.” She nods at the burly man still sitting at the bar, watching us with curiosity. That’s definitely her driver. For some reason, her comment doesn’t faze me as much as it should. I don’t press for details, and I don't think she’s joking either.
Liv notices my hesitation because her eyes widen and a sharp laugh escapes her, cutting through the noise and drawing Emma’s attention to me once again. Her emerald gaze studies me, alight with mischief and humor.
Shrugging, Emma casually says, “Nothing says ‘I care,’ like stalking your besties.” Her eyes narrow in challenge. But before I can process it, Evie pulls her into the conversation. It’s there in that statement that I realize, I’ve found my people, my ownbesties. Fierce, unapologetic, with just a dash of danger, this recipe contains the makings of a beautiful friendship.
NINETEEN
DANI
Two hours later, they manage to convince me to join them at Emma's husband's club, The Viceroy. Everyone in Houston knows the name, as it’s spoken with equal parts envy and intrigue because of its exclusivity. By day, its sleek metal exterior mixes in with the other steel structures in the downtown area, blending into the hustle and bustle of a busy city. But by night, it transforms, shining with decadence, glittering in those forbidden nighttime hours. Whispers create more allure about the hidden club, concealed behind an unmarked door, reserved for only the carefully vetted members who thrive on secrecy and sin.
We slip through the restless line of patrons as the queue curls in an endless S around the block. We move through the crowd like we own the place. Well, Emma kind of does. Inside, the perfumed air thickens with the heat of bodies dancing to the high-energy pulse of the dance music. We weave through the crowded throng of partygoers until we reach the sleek staircase that comes into view, rising into the most coveted section leading to the VIP area above. Security guards stand sentinel, tracking our movements with cold eyes. The VIP area opens up to a sea of velvet and dim lighting. Plush emerald color couchescreate the illusion of intimacy, but I doubt much goes on that Eduardo doesn’t see. The area thrums with a sense of danger that calls to me, making me sink into the chair as I kick one leg over it. My boot presses against the glass balcony. Gus lingers close by, vigilant as ever over his watch, until another man approaches, trading silent words in the form of a nod before changing places as Gus disappears into the shadows through a rustle of drapes.
Emma catches me staring and tips her chin toward him. “That’s Philip,” she says casually, as if his name should mean something. “He’s single.” Her smile sharpens.
I laugh, shaking my head, unwilling to play along with her matchmaking games. It’s not the first time. A woman glides to our table, dressed in black, with elegant gold accessories. Not overdone, but stately. Her pose is effortless, but her judgment is poor. Her gaze lingers on Jameson, and beside me, I swear I hear Evie hiss under her breath. The sound jolts me, and I choke on my water. Liv pats my back, smirking.
“Geez, hun,” she teases, her tone dry. “We’re off the clock here.” Then she adds, “But don’t worry, Philip can give you mouth-to-mouth.” But before I can form a comeback, Emma cuts me off.
“Yeah, Liv,” Emma coos, her velvety tone edged with a hint of sarcasm. “We’re off the clock, so why aren’t you having a cocktail?” She studies Liv, giving her a suspicious look, though there’s no actual malice there. Whatever the joke is, I’m clearly not in on it.
A different waitress approaches and sets our drinks down with quiet precision, nodding at Emma in some silent exchange before she leaves without another word. Her indifference is intentional, and the change of waitress a statement.
With the drama concluded, I slip further into the velvety, pillowed cushions, draping my arm over the chair, to indulge inmy favorite pastime—people watching. Below us, people dance, their bodies lost in the lights and shadows of the strobe lights. In a quick glance, I catch something meant to be concealed by the dim lighting causing the hairs on my arm to rise. My senses become hyperaware of the danger hiding in plain sight. It’s this heightened awareness that lets me take in everything unfolding below.
