by Tara Brown
But deep down, none of that meant anything after today.
Jordan was a jerk. I even had proof.
I took the pin Hennie had given back on the train and uploaded the video to my phone, forcing myself to watch it.
It came on, shaking like Hennie was playing with the pin, likely to turn it on.
“Hi there.” Right out of the gates Jordan oozed prowl vibes.
“Hi.” Hennie sounded funny. “Do you come here often?”
His eyes widened, and he paused. “I do.”
“I need a good drink recommendation. I’m celebrating.” She sounded like she was smiling.
“What are you celebrating?”
“I just graduated college,” she lied.
“Hey, same here.” He lied too. I wasn’t sure why, but I guessed that gave them something in common right off the bat.
“Why don’t we share a drink?” He turned and did the facing-her thing. His smile was creepy looking, not the one he’d given me at all. I was grateful at least for that. This schmoozy side of him was icky.
“Okay. What are you having?”
“Let’s get some champagne.” He waved over the server. “A bottle of your best champagne, please.” He turned back to Hennie. “So, what did you major in?”
“Finance.”
“Interesting.”
“Not so much.” She laughed genuinely.
“What’s your name?”
“Does it matter?” she asked, sounding like a badass ninja spy. She was better at this than I gave her credit for.
“I guess not.”
“Your champagne, sir.” Another man spoke.
The pop of the cork made Hennie jump and giggle. Jordan handed her a glass, and he smiled, lifting his own to “cheers” her. “To the end.”
“To the end of school. And new beginnings,” she said, reaching into the frame and clinking her glass against his. “So, do you maybe want to continue this little celebration later?” she asked, completely naturally. “I have somewhere to go after this, but we could meet up in the evening.”
“Yes. I’d be into that. A couple of strangers celebrating their own successes. I have a hotel room my family keeps on hand for moments just like this. Here’s the name and room number.” He wrote on a piece of paper and slid it to her. “You’re very beautiful.”
“Thanks. So are you.” She was getting flustered.
I ended the video there. Then I uploaded the video from my laptop onto the site. I emailed it back to Amy, praying to the gods that it never got back to her that I was behind this scam.
I felt dirty.
But I didn’t even have time to pout.
I had date number two, and something told me Hennie wasn’t going to be up to seducing a slimy party boy.
Chapter Twenty-Four
SHOTS!
Lacey
I did my makeup in a way that gave me extra-large almond eyes and a perfect set of huge pouty lips with a long and slender nose. I looked like an anime character, which was perfect for the DJ.
I’d left the house still feeling like shit, but as I got closer to the subway station where I was meeting Marcia, I started feeling better. I thought about going alone and getting the job done so I could curl up with a book in my bedroom, but I couldn’t do it. It was safer to go with a friend. And Marcia was still amped from the night before, so she was an easy sell on a club night. It was summer after all. She would party every day if she could.
My outfit looked like a costume, but it made my mission feel real and clear.
Oddly enough, while I was riding, another email came in.
It was from a name I didn’t recognize, but I would figure her guy out and test him, and by the end of the week, I’d have another thousand dollars saved up.
I felt vindicated in my head as I read the emails. The girls were desperate, needing their guys tested before serious relationships started.
And I was saving money so my brother could get the treatment he needed. And if he didn’t need it, I would for sure. It wasn’t like I wasn’t earning the money through creative means.
It made me feel like I was providing a real service and wasn’t just some crazy chick who would clearly do anything for a Klondike bar.
What I would or would not do for said bar was clearly laid out on the table. Prostitution, no. Bartender, hard pass.
Undercover man tester, hell yes.
And I felt like I was being smart about the rules.
Meeting in public places. Flirting innocently until I got the invite for more. Accepting payments through untraceable prepaid credit cards going to a PO box.
I hoped I was being smart, anyway.
Tonight would be the test. If Kami’s boyfriend recognized me with all this makeup, then I wouldn’t be able to approach any other acquaintances, unless Hennie wanted to be a partner.
When the train stopped, I jumped off and hurried up the stairs to where Darren was waiting with the car. I dove into the back, scaring the shit out of Marcia.
“Oh my God, who are you?”
“It’s me, crazy pants.” I beamed. If Marcia didn’t recognize me, I was golden.
“Holy shit, your makeup and that wig!” she squealed once she realized who I was. “You look so perfect for a night of techno dance. Can you do me too?”
“Yeah, I brought my bag of tricks for just this moment.” I sat across from her and opened the bag. “Are you ready to party?” I played it up like I was. I’d never told Marcia anything about why we were going clubbing, just that I was in the mood to.
Truthfully my excitement was a little dinged after the video of Jordan. But I just needed the night to get past it.
He was exactly the guy I’d feared he was.
“I am so ready.” She handed me a car drink. “Moser made you a G and T for the road. He said you left last night in a huff before the club. That you and Jordan were fighting?” She narrowed her gaze. “Why did I not hear about this?”
“It’s nothing. Honestly. He’s a pig. He tried hitting on me again, and he’s got a girlfriend. You know how I feel about this.”
“He’s not a pig. I heard they broke up anyway. For real this time! She claims to have caught him hitting on some girl, but we all know she was the one who had the side dish. Anyway, she dumped him.”
“As she should,” I scoffed.
“What?” She lifted an eyebrow.
I recovered quickly. “He hit on me and someone else, if her story checks out.”
“Right, well, I guess it’s official. I heard it from Brooke earlier, who said she was going to stalk Jordan and see if he wanted to hang out.” She leaned in. “So if you like him the way I think you do, you need to snap him up before his family organizes another girlfriend for him.”
“Marcia, if his family is picking his girlfriends and he’s just sitting by letting this happen, I don’t want him anyway. Brooke can have him. Just trust me, he’s not the guy for me. He’s gross. You remember his brother?”
“Yeah, but I was wrong. Monty said Jordan isn’t like him. Stephen is nasty. And even he’s better now that he’s all settled and married. Jordan likes you, a lot. I could tell. And I could tell you like him too. That’s why I invited him over. I hate that you’re always the odd man out. I want you to find someone awesome. And if Monty says he’s awesome, he is. So I’m going to give him another chance. And you should too.”
“Your mom is showing.” I rolled my eyes, earning a chuckle from Darren.
“Don’t be a hater.” She leaned in, rubbing her nose on my cheek. “Is it weird that I’m super attracted to you with this Sailor Moon look you have going on with that blonde wig?”
“No.” I laughed and drank my gin. “I was thinking I looked silly hot too.”
“You super look like her.” She tried to selfie us, but I ducked out.
“No, dude. I look too weird.” I was going to have to reconsider wearing my disguises around her so as not to risk being discovered.
“You l
ook hot. Come on.”
“Are we here?” I glanced out the window, changing the subject quickly.
“We are.” Darren parked and got out to open our door.
“Thanks for being my wing woman tonight.” I hugged her, seriously changing the subject. “Sorry I bailed last night; I felt pretty crappy after the whole Jordan thing. I just wanted to go out and dance tonight since I missed out.”
“I’m glad you actually told me. I was wondering what the hell happened. And no one had a single clue where you went. Except Moser, of course. You know he keeps an eye on you.”
“Let’s just go dance and be crazy.” I smiled wide, acting like this was a great idea and it was going to the best night of our lives. The dread in my stomach would be over the moment I did my job and got my proof. But there was no way I could do that until Miguel, a.k.a. DJ Dipshit, finished his set. Which meant I was going have to warm up my fun-and-flirty game for the next couple of hours.
And I did.
The music was hot, with amazing beats and breaks for the crowds to go wild over. We paused and began together, a sea of high and drunk people moving like waves with a grand master above us, using the music to make us move.
Even I had to admit that Kami’s moron of a boyfriend was fantastic at what he did.
By the time he was done, Marcia was loving it. We’d found a group of people to mingle and dance with.
“I’ll go get us a drink!” I shouted at Marcia, and walked to the bar, seeing Miguel shaking hands and talking to a group of guys next to it. I leaned against the bar, glancing over at him, making sure my ass popped out a bit. I played with my pin to get the recording started.
Miguel wasn’t the only one who took the bait, so when a big guy standing by him slid up next to me and smiled, I shook my head and pointed at Miguel. He nodded, like of course I had my eyes set on the DJ—this was a normal occurrence. With a smug-ass saunter, Miguel made his way over to me, taking the place of the big guy and grinning.
“That was a hot set,” I offered with an eyelash flutter.
“What are you drinking?”
“Shots,” I lied.
“What kind of shot do you want?”
“Tequila.”
“Two shots of Patrón,” he shouted at the bartender.
Two shots lined up right in front of us. He licked his hand and then mine, making me want to slap him, but instead I let him sprinkle salt on it and hand me a juicy lime wedge.
“To new friends.” He reached for the glasses and passed me mine, then lifted his.
I took it and clinked the glass, licking the salt, drinking the shot, and sucking the lime.
“I have a bottle of this back at my place. Any chance you wanna move the party over there?”
“Yeah.” I smiled wide, but my stomach was killing me. “Is this a private party?”
“Depends on whether you’re open to making more friends.”
I pretended to giggle, but honestly I was about to ask him what the ever-loving fuck he was talking about. Was he asking if I was down for an orgy?
“Those guys there.” He pointed, and I moved so the pin picked up the three big dudes standing next to the bar, leering at me like I was their next meal.
“Why not?” I laughed. “Lemme go tell my friends I’m leaving. Or maybe I can convince a couple of them to join the fun.” I pushed off the bar and headed for the ladies’ bathroom, completely ignoring my friend, who was dancing with our new group of strangers like they were her besties. I knew he’d be watching me. My stomach was aching, like the cramps were SOS signals screaming for me to run, to get out of there.
I shuddered when I thought of his hep-seedy mouth licking my hand and putting the salt there. And I’d licked it. I was gonna need a tetanus shot and a Twinrix. And maybe some mouthwash. I needed to remember to bring mouthwash next time if a full-on hazmat suit was out of the question for sexual innuendo.
I glanced at myself in the mirror, honestly not recognizing the girl looking back at me. What was I doing? Was this worth a thousand dollars?
I was actually scared of Miguel and his friends and what they were into. And I felt sick for Kami. How could her guy be so sleazy?
No, this was worth it.
It was worth saving her from this jerk. It was also worth my family’s security. With that end goal firmly in mind, I remembered the whole point of this experiment and shook the slime off. I washed all the makeup off to the point that I looked a bit rough. My skin was blotchy from the hand soap and the paper towel, but I managed to get it all. I dragged the blonde wig off, letting my brown locks cascade down my back. I stuffed the wig in my oversized purse and pulled on the white blouse I’d brought, tugging it over the black tube dress and tying it up. I pulled off the earrings I was wearing and all the rings on my fingers.
Taking a second look at myself, I felt better. Not about leaving the bathroom and risking Miguel recognizing me—that still scared me—but about how I looked. I wasn’t club hot or looking like I might be down for a night of fun. I was boring old me again. I did a bare minimum amount of powder, mascara, and lip gloss so I didn’t look like I’d just scrubbed my face in a club bathroom, and closed the purse, heading out to the dance floor to find Marcia.
It was a sea of people I had to swim through to get to her, but when I did, I grabbed her arms and started dancing again, pretending I was drunk and fun and not possibly shitting my pants with fear or puking with disgust over my own desperation. This job was not suited for me. But it was another thousand dollars towards my tuition and it was done.
Miguel and his boys were drinking and toasting and laughing at the bar, not even looking for the girl he was confident would be coming back.
I turned away from him, certain I didn’t look the same as before, and even if he suspected it was me, he wouldn’t dare come talk to me. Especially not with Marcia right beside me.
Or Monty.
Wait.
Monty?
I narrowed my gaze as he met my confused look. He was smiling wide and dance walking to the music as he pushed his way through the crowd toward us.
With a certain someone hot on his heels.
Shit!
Chapter Twenty-Five
SNOW WHITE
Jordan
She wasn’t happy to see me.
That might have been the understatement of the year.
But I wasn’t happy to see her, either, if I was being honest.
My guys’ night had been sabotaged.
Lacey’s eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together as Marcia squealed and jumped on Monty and me, hugging us both.
“You came!” She kissed Monty. She attacked me next, kissing my cheek and whispering not so quietly, “You should totally tell Lacey she looks cool. Like Sailor Moon.” She wasn’t making much sense. Lacey didn’t look cool. She looked annoyed and possibly uncomfortable and maybe even trashed, though Marcia seemed fine.
I hated that I made her feel that way, even if I also wasn’t happy about the way the night had turned out. My grandpa had said the worst words possible to me, that he was “disappointed” in me. My father had left seven angry texts and five voice mails, all disowning me with a level of rage and hate I hadn’t expected. I’d expected bad, but this was next level.
Even my mom had left multiple messages, asking me how I could do this to my family.
It hurt.
And instead of being home, hiding from the world, I was out.
Monty and Stephen had wanted to come here for the music, which wasn’t bad, but the fact that Lacey happened to be here, too, made me think they had ulterior motives for choosing this place. Apparently no one cared that we were in friends-off mode and she hated me, as did everyone in my family except my brother. And no one cared that she had been a hurtful bitch to me either.
Hell, seeing her there, I didn’t even care.
She was right. I had no self-respect.
Standing in the middle of the floor, Lacey started to look strange
. She blinked slowly, swaying and shuddering. Her eyes widened and then became slits as if she was trying to focus. She turned to the right, looking at the bar, and then to the left toward the exit. Staggering, she pushed forward, past me and Monty like she didn’t even know us.
People hit her with their dancing, making her stumble more.
She was drunk as hell and walking for the exit.
A guy wrapped an arm around her waist, trying to force her to dance with him. She tried to shove him off, but he didn’t let go.
I sprang to life then, ignoring my brother and Monty and running for her.
“Hey.” I shoved the guy. “That’s my girl.”
She spun around and was about to say something, possibly something to dispute me, but then she got this look of panic on her face. “Help me.” She nodded and leaped for me, wrapping herself around my neck and clinging for life.
“Have her, she’s fucking trashed, man!” The guy shrugged and turned back to dancing.
“I’ve got you.” I slipped my arm under her and lifted her up onto me, holding her tightly and walking for the door. She pulled her bag up into her and clutched it, letting go of me and allowing me to carry her full weight. We got jostled and bumped and pushed until we made it out.
I exhaled in gasps as I made it to the side of the building and sat with her as she collapsed in my arms.
“I think he put something in my drink,” she muttered.
“Fuck!” I pulled out my phone and texted for a ride. I sat her against the building while she passed out, leaving me holding her. If she was this out of it, maybe I should take her to a hospital.
She didn’t look normal; her skin was blotchy with bits of makeup in her hairline. Her eyes were red and puffy like she’d been crying, and her lips were chapped.
She looked drunk, but maybe someone did put something in her drink.
I texted Marcia and Monty, but they didn’t answer.
She was passed out in a way that scared me a little. There was no venom or fight. Just a drunk girl. Or drugged.
