Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
I change into the black mini dress I’d been given a year ago as a gift from Nix. I probably should have checked to make sure it fit. I wiggle into it.
“It’s snug.” I huff and pull at the fabric.
“Damn, girl!” Mac stares at me, her mouth dropped open. “I mean, I knew you had a body, but holy hell. You have curves for days.”
“Is it okay?” I ask, turning in a circle to see myself in the mirror. The thing fits like a second skin except for the bottom that hits a touch above mid-thigh. It flares a little when you turn.
“Lose the bra.” I take it off because she’s right. You can see the straps. The ones on the dress are thin, and I think useless.
“Let me put the heels on. They’re not crazy ones. A couple of inches.” I’m on the shorter side, but I have been practicing wearing them. I thought I might need to dress up to blend in at the retreat. Pretty girls all dolled up can get in and out of places. Sure, my last name can too, but you don’t always want people to know who you are.
I slip them on, and Mac comes up behind me. “Lift your hair.” I do as she requests, and she slips a black choker around my neck. She rests her chin on my shoulder, both of us staring in the mirror at me. “Perfect, let’s roll.”
“Which vehicle are we taking?”
“Damn, cuz.” Damon sits up from the couch he was sprawled out on. He must have gotten here while we were getting ready. “You look good.”
“Thank you.” He fights a smile, and I want to ask why, but I don’t.
“He’s our ride.”
“He’s coming with us?”
“Nah, I’m dropping you off. No drinking and driving.” He does a mock scolding.
“I don’t drink.” Not typically. I tried it once and regretted it the next morning.
Mac puts her arm over my shoulder. “You might tonight. A drink might make you relax.” She’s not wrong.
When we arrive at the club, Mac already has a table reserved for us, and she pours us both a glass of champagne. It’s sweet and not terrible, and it is helping me relax.
“What do you think?” Mac asks from beside me, sipping on her drink, swaying her hips.
“I’ve been to a club before.”
“I know.” She rolls her eyes at me. “But never a part of the crowd. When you enter a club, you’re working.” This is true. Eros and I are likely coming to collect. I have been in this very club before, but I don’t think anyone would recognize me, and Mac isn’t boots on the ground very often. She is best behind a computer. That’s where she’s the most dangerous.
My eyes move across the crowd of people. A few people catch my eye, and I don’t mean because they are attractive. I make a mental note of two; they are both carrying weapons, which has me wondering if they are security for the club meant to blend in or if they somehow made it past security without a pat-down.
“Stop sizing people up.” Mac elbows me in the side. You have to size people up. I’m not a big girl. There is only so much my body is capable of doing. It’s not easy for me to handle a large man. Your best skill set is being a few steps ahead and never letting them get too close. Brute force will win when no weapons are in play. Not that I don’t have a few on me. “That table is sizing you up.”
“Which?”
“Your two o’clock.” I begin to bounce slightly to feel the rhythm of the music before I slowly turn my head to look. There is a group of men sitting together. They are all in suits, or they had been. The jackets are gone, and their long, buttoned sleeves have been rolled up. They came from work. Only one of them still has a suit jacket on.
He and I lock eyes across the room. “Smile,” I hear Mac say, and I do. His brows lift, and he licks his lips. Gross. I turn my attention back to the dance floor and sip the champagne. The bubbles make me feel lightheaded. I’m not used to feeling this way, and I have to admit, I don’t dislike it.
“Is that a no on him?”
“He has a pixie haircut.” Mac bursts into laughter. “The coloring isn’t natural.” He also doesn’t look like he can fight. Too pretty. I think I prefer a rough-and-clean handsome; a little pretty might not be the worst thing. Paxton flashes through my mind.
“If he heard you say that, it would ruin his month.” Mac takes the now empty glass and sets it on the table. I wanted another. I don’t get a chance to voice that. She’s already got her hand around my wrist and is pulling me toward the dance floor.