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Authors: S. L. Jennings

Afraid to Fly (Fearless #2) (22 page)

BOOK: Afraid to Fly (Fearless #2)
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I went to Sal’s office to question him about it, wondering if there was something going on that I didn’t know about. He fed me some bullshit about the other waitresses asking for more hours, so he wanted to be fair—which meant whatever waitress he was screwing got the extra hours. I was pissed. I needed that money. My tips paid for our groceries, gas and utilities. I could have applied for assistance, but I refused. I did have my dignity, and as long as I was able-bodied, I would support us.

Velvet was just getting off shift when she spotted me in the hall, still seething. “What crawled up your arse, love? You look positively miffed.”

“Sal cut my hours,” I huffed, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Ah, yes. He’s shagging that blonde one . . . Britney. Don’t worry. He’ll tell her to bugger off soon enough, and will be looking for a new hole to stick his tiny todger in.”

“Well, he better not look here,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest.

She slipped her arm around my shoulders and led us to the dressing room. “Oh, he wouldn’t dream of it! But look on the bright side, love. We’re both young, beautiful and single on a Friday night. And you look like you need to get completely pissed. We’re going out!”

I groaned. “Out? What do you mean by
out?
I’m not dressed for a club,” I explained, looking down at my ripped skinny jeans, black ribbed tank and wedge sneakers. At least my hair and makeup were done for work.

“Tosh! You’re perfect. Besides, I hate bloody clubs. Bad enough I have to work in one. I just need to stop by my flat to wash the stripper grime off me.”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Come on. I’ll even drive. I want to see you let loose for a change.”

I had to admit, I was tempted. I hadn’t had a night out since moving back here to take care of Toby. Pre-Toby Raven partied all the time between coasting through classes. Post-Toby Raven had to transfer schools and move from everything and everyone she knew, to start all over again. Which meant no social life.

And as infuriating as it was, I kept hearing Dom’s voice in my head. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was purposely shutting out the world, sabotaging any chance of a real connection with another human being. Velvet was cool, but we had never hung out, despite all the times she’d asked. I always had an excuse, that excuse being Toby. But right about now, Toby was over at Mrs. Ralston’s, probably engaged in an intense game of Gin Rummy. I wasn’t expected back for hours, and it wasn’t as if they’d begrudge me one night to myself. Hell, Mrs. Ralston had been trying to set me up with her grandson from Raleigh for months. She’d probably be delighted.

I was out of excuses. I honestly had no reason to
not
want this for myself. Besides, it was just one night. How much harm could it do?

“Ok. Fine,” I resigned. “Let’s do it.”

Velvet’s apartment was in a hip, artsy area of Plaza Midwood, and it fit her perfectly. I knew she had to be dropping some major coin to rent the lavish space, which spoke volumes of her loyal tippers at The Pink Kitty. No wonder she chose the lunch shift. She was making a killing!

“I’ll just be a minute. Make yourself at home!” she said before dashing into the shower to wash away the edible body glitter and sweat.

While she got ready, I took the liberty of grabbing a glass of water and checking out her digs. She liked art—oil paintings mostly—and was pretty well read. She had everything from Anthony Doerr to Tina Fey and Anne Rice. Even a few authors I’d never heard of. I picked up an orange paperback and read the synopsis. It sounded pretty good. Actually, whoever this Kate Sedgwick character was, I envied her optimism. I could use a dose of it myself.

“Oh, that’s one of my favorites. You should read it,” Velvet said from the hallway, still wet and wrapped in a towel. Her hair was in a turban on top of her head, and her face was bare. She looked absolutely stunning without the dark makeup she usually wore.

I looked back down at the book so she wouldn’t think I was gawking at her. “
Bright Side,
huh? Trying to tell me something?”

“Not at all. Just thought we all could use a little perspective. I won’t be much longer, love. Promise!” Then she was scurrying to her room. I guess constant wardrobe changes made her a pro at dressing quickly.

In fifteen minutes flat, Velvet emerged fully dressed in leather leggings, a slouchy white tee, a leather jacket and black heeled booties. Her violet hair was blow-dried, and her minimal makeup was flawless. She wasn’t Velvet the stripper. She was
her.

“Wow, I just realized that I don’t even know your real name,” I said shaking my head. It was stupid to refer to her as some alias.

“Victoria,” she smiled. And she was. This was my friend, Victoria. “What’s yours?”

“Raven.” I inwardly cringed. It was mostly true, and that would have to do for now.

“Oh. I just assumed it was as stage name. Most of the waitresses use them too. And considering the dark hair and pale skin . . . well, you know.”

“Nope,” I smiled, glad she had bought. “Just Raven.”

Before jumping in her drop-top Mini Cooper, I went to my car to grab a zip-up hoody and lock up. Not that anyone in this neighborhood would even bat an eye at my old girl, but she was a good car, and had been good to me. Some things didn’t go out of style. They just needed a little renovating.

“So where are we going?” I asked, reapplying my lipstick in the visor mirror.

“This cool little place I’ve been dying to check out. I pass by it all the time, and it’s always packed on the weekends. Plus, one of my uni mates told me they’ve got live music.”

“Uni? You’re in college?”

Velvet—I mean, Victoria—chuckled and shook her head. “Not anymore. I came to the U.S. to attend university, but after graduation, I just had no desire to go into law. So I started dancing. Good money . . . good hours . . . why not?”

Wow. So she could have been in law school right now, or maybe even a lawyer, but she chose not to? I envied her freedom to choose. I envied the fact that she even had choices.

“Here we are. Ace! A parking spot!” she said, pulling her tiny car into the space. She was right—it was packed. And with the marquee lit up, it looked completely different since the last time I had been here.

“Dive? You want to go to
Dive?”

“You’ve been here?”

Crap. I couldn’t answer that truthfully without giving away the fact that I knew Dom, the guy she was sleeping with. But I didn’t want to lie either. “Once. For lunch.”

“Oh. Well, I heard this place completely transforms at night. Come on!”

Victoria was buzzing with energy and excitement as she hopped out of her car and practically skipped onto the sidewalk. Me, not so much. The place looked decent, and there was a line to get in, so I assumed it would be a good time. But I didn’t want to risk seeing Dom. However, according to Toby, he was out sick with the flu, so I highly doubted that he’d be in a place like this.

It didn’t take long to get inside, and once we did, we were on the hunt for seats. It was packed, yet not so much that you couldn’t walk around without getting stepped on or saying “Excuse me” a hundred times. A few guys had taken one look at Victoria and offered seats at their tables. She turned them down every time, telling them it was a girl’s night. When they looked over at me expectantly, I just shrugged and kept walking.

After a good bit of walking, we lucked out and scored a tall round-top near the bar just as an older couple was leaving. The place was getting considerably more crowded by the minute, so I assumed the live music would be starting soon. We flagged down a waitress and ordered drinks and a couple of appetizers for dinner before she got completely swamped. I made sure to be extra polite to her. I knew the struggle.

“So, what do you think?” Victoria asked, as she dipped a loaded potato skin in some avocado ranch. Those things were dangerous. I’d already had three and was thinking about ordering more. Actually, everything was delicious. The sirloin sliders and mac and cheese fritters would have me doing three extra miles around my neighborhood tomorrow.

“It’s nice,” I replied. “Cool spot, I guess. Great food.”

“And one of the best pomegranate margaritas I’ve ever had. How’s your mojito?”

“Great,” I replied, holding it up before taking a sip. I wondered if she would freak if I told her that the bartender was just as yummy as the drinks. I had caught a glimpse of him through the break in the crowd around the bar, but it was enough to verify that he was working tonight. Good Lord, that man was sexy. I could totally see Victoria salivating over all his tattoos and piercings. Too bad he was taken. After seeing Dom’s lunch buddy at the hospital this morning, it confirmed that he was
not
the father. And I didn’t even need Maury for that one.

We ordered another round of drinks, just in time for the lights to turn down, causing the whole room to erupt with cheers and move closer to the stage. I could see shadows of people moving into place on stage, but it was too dark to make them out. However, the guy who hopped on stage with a beer in his hand and grabbed the mic was impossible to miss.

“Welcome hot coeds, MILFs and cougars. Fuck you, dickheads, douchebags and posers. I’m CJ, and I wanna welcome you to Dive, the best fucking bar on the planet! And why are we the best bar? Other than this sexy hunk of man that stands before you? Well, we also have the baddest fucking band in Charlotte, rocking your fucking tits off tonight! Give it up for AngelDust!”

The crowd went ballistic once more, and didn’t calm until the drummer’s count. Then, I nearly choked on my strawberry basil mojito. Holy shit, it was Angel. And she was singing and playing guitar. And she was
good.
Hell, she was amazing. The entire band was.

“Bloody brill! An all-girl band! And they’re fantastic!” Victoria was already grooving in her seat to the fast paced song, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before she would be dragging me onto the dance floor. I sucked down my second drink for the extra liquid courage. I had to admit, it was hard
not
to move to the infectious beat.

Victoria somehow caught the waitress and placed an order. I was way too caught up in the shock of seeing Angel and the music to hear what it was. But when two shots appeared in front of us a bit later, I knew that Victoria was dead serious about getting me
pissed,
as she called it.

“Drink up, love! I’m ready to get out there!”

I picked up a shot glass and sniffed. Oh Lord. Tequila. I’d be calling upon the porcelain gods later tonight, for sure.

I waited for her to take her glass, but she just shook her head. “All for you. Cheers!”

My eyes flared with shock. Holy crap.
Two
shots? But then I thought about it. I used to drink much more Pre-Toby. And dammit, I deserved just one night off to have fun. Maybe it was the mojitos talking or the music rattling my skull, but I wanted to be free tonight. I’d worry about hangovers and work and growing up tomorrow. Tonight was just for me. And even though that made me feel guilty as hell, I just swallowed it down with the tequila.

Two shots later, we were on the dance floor, fist pumping in time to the rhythm and bopping our heads as we hopped around laughing. Seeing her like this, being goofy and carefree, it was hard to believe Victoria took her clothes off for a living. There was no choreography, no gyrating, no hair flipping. She was happy to just be here, having fun with me.

When a particular song started—obviously a fan favorite—I took a moment to watch Angel. She was beautiful up there—charismatic, engaging, alluring. But more than that, it was like she was singing right to me. I mean, obviously she didn’t even know I was one of dozens in the crowd, but the lyrics . . . they spoke to my soul. They were everything I had been feeling translated into song. Trapped. Lonely. Afraid.

I needed a break after that one, so we made our way back to the bar area. Someone had snagged our table, so we decided to just hit up the bar. I was feeling no pain, but decided to have another drink, and Victoria didn’t object. Especially when she got a load of what I assumed was the head bartender.

“What can I get you ladies?” he asked, his tattooed hands and deep brown eyes focused on grabbing bottles and mixing drinks effortlessly. When neither of us answered, too breathless by his mere presence, he looked up. And froze.

Crap. I’d been made. I’d totally forgotten. Like the song goes,
blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol.

“Hey,” I said nervously. Oh shit. Would he tell Dom that he’d seen me?

“Hey,” he responded with the same apprehension.

“Heeeyyy!”
Victoria trilled through giggles. “We’ll take two shots of tequila, handsome.”

Then the bartender, Blaine as I remembered, did something that had our panties melting down our legs. He smiled. Then said, “My specialty.” Then had the audacity to follow that with a wink. How dare he be so fucking hot!
The nerve!

“Can I touch him?” Victoria whimpered as soon as he walked off to grab our shots.

“I wish. He’s got a girlfriend. And a baby on the way,” I pouted.

“Oh, bollocks. He would.”

We shared girlish giggles and gabbed on about whatever came to mind. It had been so long since I’d had a girlfriend. I had missed this camaraderie, having forgotten what it felt like to be young and boundless.

After he dropped off our shots, Blaine told us they were on the house, then quickly moved to the other end of the bar, bypassing several people hoping to order. Most of them were women, so they didn’t seem to mind much. The view from behind was just as enjoyable.

Once again, Victoria pushed the shots towards me, and I didn’t put up a fight. My tongue had just tasted the lip of the second shot and was tipping it back when a dark shadow fell over us, blocking my view of the stage and causing Victoria to gasp. I paused mid-sip and looked up.

The moment he looked at Victoria—or Velvet as he knew her—then pinned his glare on me, I thought I might get sick. It was only my pride that kept my stomach from heaving.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he seethed through a clenched jaw.

BOOK: Afraid to Fly (Fearless #2)
13.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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