Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
My smile drops, and I look at Allison. She laughs. “No.” A sip of her drink as she looks across to Brad again. “Hopefully one day.”
I dive back into my vodka again. I’m not sure what to feel right now. Sorry for poor, deluded, clueless Allison? Uneasy because I can feel his eyes burning into my back? Jealous? Would Brad ever want any of those things? I laugh on the inside. No. Brad’s an arsehole. Allison will soon figure that out, which means their relationship has a shelf life.
“So you’re English.” Allison asks.
“I am.”
“Have you been in the States long?”
I set my glass down on the bar, searching for my go-to story, the one I’ve fed everyone. I can’t find it. “Not long,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ear on one side.
Beau senses my uneasiness and hops in. “Hey, I saw some amazing beach huts online earlier.” She dips into her bag on the bar and pulls out her mobile. “I saved the links. I’ll text them to you.”
I reach for my bag too. And remember. “Shit, I’ve lost my phone.”
“Oh, how annoying,” Allison says.
“Here.” Beau hands hers to me. “Use the Find My App.”
I stare at her mobile, scrambling for some words. Any words. Fuck. “I mean, it smashed. I dropped it.” I smile awkwardly as Beau withdraws, head tilted in question. I look away. Fucking hell, I need to think before I speak. And remember that Beau was once a cop. A good cop.
“Ladies.”
Oh, get me out of here. I swallow, feeling my heart wedge in my throat, and take a big breath, looking up at him. “Hi, Brad,” I chirp, downing more drink.
He frowns. “Hi.”
I feel like my face could fall off, it’s aching so much from smiling, and I can feel Beau’s curious attention passing around all of us.
“Hey, you.” Brad slips an arm around Allison’s waist and gets close to her. “Ready to grab dinner?” He smiles down at her. He’s never smiled at me like that.
I want to vomit.
“Sure,” she says, looking a little uncertain. “Maybe we can have a chat about my status.”
Brad looks uneasy but tries to hide it. “Yes, let’s talk about that.” He casts a look across to Beau and me. “Maybe without an audience.”
“Allison was telling us you’ve been dating for a few months.” Beau stares at Brad. “You never mentioned her.”
He looks like he wants to throttle Beau. But he doesn’t entertain her, looking over to the men when Danny raises a hand. “Give me five minutes.”
“Okay.” Allison slips down from her stool. “I just need to powder my nose.” Off she goes, and I turn back to the bar, finishing the last of my drink and holding up my empty to Anya.
She must sense my urgency and stress, because she already has one poured. “Here.” She swaps my empty for a fresh drink and gives me a look to suggest she’s feeling the atmosphere, which means I’m not doing a very good job of appearing fine.
“I hope you’re charging her for that,” Brad says to Anya, who falters walking away, looking torn.
“Here.” I pull a twenty-dollar bill out of my bag and slide it across the bar. “And my ID,” I add, smiling back at Brad. There’s no ID. I have no ID. I’m just being childish. Ironic.
He snarls before walking off, and Beau reaches for the twenty and puts it back in my bag. “Pearl,” she says, coming closer. “What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing’s going on.” I face her, smiling. “You know he irritates me.”
“But why is the question.”
“He’s just a grouch.”
“Right.” She doesn’t look convinced. “Let me just say this.”
“What?”
“You don’t want Brad.”
I laugh. “Of course I don’t want Brad. He’s a certified arsehole.” I slip down off my stool, because I need to regroup. “I need the ladies’.” Wait. Allison is in the ladies’. So I’ll grab some fresh air out back instead. “Back in a minute.” I pull my bag off the bar and head toward the back of the club, meeting Rose on the threshold of the corridor that leads to the offices and the restrooms.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asks, throwing her bag onto her shoulder.
“Yes, are you?” I nod down at her chest. “What happened to your blouse?” It’s tied at the tails, all the buttons missing.
“Oh.” She wriggles and pulls at the material to get the best coverage over her boobs. “Small misunderstanding with Danny.”
“I’m glad your blouse took the brunt of his rage.”
She giggles, patting at her cheeks. “Do I look okay?”
“You look amazing, as always,” I say as I pass her.
“Where are you going?”
“Ladies’,” I call, rounding the corner and bypassing the ladies’, pushing into the fire exit door and breathing in the fresh, nighttime air. Deep breaths. I reach into my bag and pull out a fresh pack of cigarettes and a lighter, falling back against a brick wall and sliding down until I’m crouching. Relishing the quiet. Breathing in the fresh air. I hold a cigarette up in front of me and roll my eyes, lighting up and taking back my first hit. A familiar sense of relief engulfs me, the pressure leaving my body with my exhale of smoke.