Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
It’s almost closing time, and The Lamppost is still jam-packed with people showing no signs of slowing down. I yawn, in some strange state of sleepy happiness, while Jess, Sully, and Halston have a heated debate over something I stopped listening to a long time ago. Other than Dylan bailing mid-song, the night went off without a hitch, and everything feels…right. For once.
I spot Victor by the bar and he waves me over. Anxious to see what he thinks about tonight, I tell Jess I’ll be right back before slipping away.
“You did it, kid. I’m impressed,” Victor says with a smile.
I can’t help but beam at him, giddy with how tonight turned out. “Thanks for giving me a shot.”
“Of course. Can I pull you away for a celebratory drink?”
My eyebrows jump to my hairline. I look back toward my friends, hesitating.
“It’ll be quick. Can’t exactly have you drinking out here since you’re underage and everyone knows it. It’ll give us a quiet place to talk about what’s next for you.”
Right. “Okay. One drink.”
I follow him away through the mob of people, down the hall, and into a back room. He closes the door behind us, and a sense of unease settles over me, even though rationally, I know it makes sense. We can’t exactly have a conversation over the noise of the club.
The room consists of a desk, a black leather couch, and not much else.
“Have a seat,” he says, motioning toward the couch.
I glance back at the door, seeing people walking back and forth through the square window, deeming it safe before I sit on the cold leather, smoothing my dress down my thighs. He ambles toward the desk where a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice and two glasses are waiting. Grabbing a white washcloth, he wipes off the bottle, then turns toward me.
“How do you feel about this becoming a permanent thing?” he asks, and when he pops the cork, I flinch, feeling both on edge and thrilled at the prospect of doing this on a regular basis.
“Really?” I ask as he hands me a glass. I take a tiny sip, the bubbly liquid warming my throat on the way down.
“Why not?” He gives a shrug, turning back for the desk. “You managed to triple what I made the first night. It’s a no-brainer.” He takes a seat behind the desk, pulling several things out of the drawer. I can’t tell for sure, but I think one of them is an envelope. He opens it up, then he’s waving a stack of cash at me. “Your cut,” he explains, holding it out for me.
My eyes bulge out of my skull. I wasn’t expecting to walk away with money. Standing, I make my way toward him and he hands me the fat stack. “Thank you,” I say, trying to casually flip through it. I don’t want to count it in front of him, but there has to be at least a thousand bucks here.
When I peel my eyes from the money, I see him bending over a piece of glass, a rolled-up dollar bill to his nose as he sniffs, sliding it along two rows of white powder.
“You earned it,” he says, wiping the excess powder from under his nose. “You want a line?”
“I’m good,” I say, forcing a casual tone. As I take a step back, his hand darts out, sliding up the back of my thigh and dipping under my dress to squeeze my ass.
I slap his hand away, jumping back. Shock has rendered me speechless, and all I can do is stand there as my brain desperately tries to make sense of what the fuck just happened. He was friends with my dad. He’s probably fifteen years my senior. Never in a million years did I see this coming.
“Don’t be like that,” he says, rolling his chair backwards before standing. The urge to bolt hits me just as the door flies open, smacking the wall so hard the handle leaves a hole in the wall. I jump as Jesse and Sully prowl through the room, two sets of eyes furious, two jaws set hard.
Oh, fuck.
Victor is visibly nervous, moving in front of the desk in an effort to hide the coke. “This is a private meet—”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Jess balls the collar of his shirt in one hand and cocks his other fist back, hitting him square in the face. Victor falls back onto his desk, holding his nose as blood leaks through his fingers. Jess drags him across the desk, knocking everything off in the process, before throwing him on the floor. Victor lands on top of shattered glass with a grunt, trying to kick at Jess as he approaches.
“Did he hurt you?” Sully asks, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to look at him. I shake my head in answer.