“You’ll get used to it.” Yeva pulls her hair from its bun and shakes it loose, red strands cascading over her shoulders. “Give it a few weeks and you’ll be running circles around the floor.”
Oksana opens her locker and changes out of her uniform. “We’re heading to a club after this. You should come.”
“Really?”
Going out with them could be useful. Bonding with coworkers, building the kind of trust that makes people open up. But from the corner of my eye, Rada’s face has already gone sour, lips pressed together like she’s swallowed something bitter. The last thing I need is workplace drama over an invitation she clearly doesn’t want extended.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m exhausted and I have nothing to wear.”
“Come on.” Klara nudges my shoulder. “You deserve a night out. Plus, you’re new to the city, right? You should be meeting people, having fun. When’s the last time you partied?”
The answer is embarrassing. Back in Moscow, I’d drink and play poker and shoot the shit with the guys. My father and his boxing students. Pavel and his crew. My life was computers and combat training and proving I could keep up with guys twice my size.
The girly stuff, the dresses and heels and makeup, that’s new. Part of the Evelina cover requires me to dress more feminine instead of a hacker who lives in cargo pants.
I’ve never been good with other women. Don’t know how to talk about the things they care about, don’t understandthe unspoken rules of their friendships. Hope is the first real girlfriend I’ve had, and I love her, but I’m not sure we’d have met if it wasn’t for Pavel.
But Klara’s looking at me like she genuinely wants me to say yes, and Yeva’s already moving toward her locker like my agreement is a foregone conclusion. Maybe this is my chance to be something other than the outsider who doesn’t know how to fit in.
Oksana grins. “We’re going to Apollon, one of the hottest spots in Manhattan. Ever heard of it?”
“Apollon’s that place in Hell’s Kitchen, right? Some of my classmates were talking about it the other day. They said it’s pretty wild.”
“It is. Best music in the city, and the crowd’s always fun.” Klara pulls out her makeup bag and rifles through it.
“If she doesn’t want to come, don’t force her,” Rada mutters, not looking up from her phone. “And it’s a mafia club. Probably best to stay away.”
The word mafia piques my interest. “What do you mean, a mafia club?”
Rada finally looks at me, expression bored. “What do you think? The Valenti family owns it. They’re as powerful as the Baronovs.”
I did my research into the families that run this city before landing here, so I’m aware the Valentis are Cosa Nostra, rivals to the Baronovs.
“The Valentis opened Apollon last year and they’re killing it. But it’s different from Velour. It’s a nightclub, not a gentleman’s club.” Oksana shrugs as she brushes out her hair.
“Velour’s not new, is it?” I ask, sensing an opportunity.
“Oh, it’s been around for years. When the brothers took it over from their father, they changed it up. Renovated. Made it classier, gave it a different vibe entirely,” Klara offers.
Rada gives a throaty laugh. “Although the word is, it was very different back in the day.”
“How do you mean…” I start to say, but Oksana cuts me off.
“Rada. Those are just rumors.”
My pulse kicks up. They know something. Maybe not everything, but enough to hint at Velour’s darker past. But Oksana’s not interested in saying more. Better to build trust before I bring it up again.
Which is why spending time with them outside of work is exactly the right play.
Jesus, I sound so mercenary. The truth is, other than Rada, I like these women. I’m sure tonight will be a good time.
I glance down at my uniform. “Do I have time to swing by my place and change?”
“Girl, please.” Yeva waves off my concern. “My locker is basically a boutique. What size are you?”
“Depends on the cut, but usually an eight. I doubt we’re the same size,” I say, eyeing her toned frame.
“Please, I’ve got something that’ll look amazing on you.” She crosses to her locker and pulls out a black leather dress that makes my eyebrows rise. Strapless, tight, and sexy as hell.
