woman’s gaze. See, that’s why she controlled her abilities. It kept her from looking like a total freak.
Brooke grinned. “Thanks for the tip on horses. I’ll include all the details I can on this paper if it gets me an A. You’ve just given me one more reason to strike up a conversation with a very cute researcher who works at the library.”
“You said you didn’t like to go to the library on weekends.”
“Oh, I’m definitely not working on my paper tonight. I’m taking advantage of the long weekend. I’m going to The Song with one of the girls who works at the computer store.”
Ari went with Brooke to the front of Diva Unique. Her, Lauren, and Celine used to spend almost every weekend at the club. Just single girls drinking mangotinis, meeting new guys, and dancing the night away. Now Celine had a new boyfriend, Lauren had South America, and she had the Invisible Man.
Throughout the day, Ari looked over her shoulder, hoping to see Dalir. Funny. Yesterday, he wouldn’t leave her alone. Today, he hadn’t shown up once to check on her. By closing at six, disappointment stole happiness. Ari counted up the registers at the desk in the back office. Let. Him. Go. That’s what she needed to do and focus on real life.
Brooke peeked in. “The store’s all tidied up.”
“And I’m done.” She’d stop thinking about Dalir. Ari grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer. She stuffed the deposit bag inside of it. “Have fun tonight.”
“Thanks.” Brooke hesitated. “You’ve been quiet. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Sure she was. A guy she’d dreamed up was probably a man-whore. What was wrong about that? “I’m good.”
“If you weren’t so tired, I’d invite you to come with us.”
Tired. Yeah, she was tired of missing her friends. Sick and tired of a shitty weekend and sick of guys, real or imaginary, with a hit-it and quit-it mentality. She’d end up buried under more steaming piles of shit if she sat home feeling sorry for herself. Or what if Dalir showed up out of nowhere again? He couldn’t just come and go out of her life as he pleased. “You know what. I’ll meet you there.”
A couple of hours later, Ari arrived at the club. She traded elbows with the crowd as she slipped past servers carrying drinks to tables. Guitar riffs with a heavy metal slant and a steady drumbeat pumped through the speakers. People danced in front of the brightly lit stage.
Contented Wrath. She should have asked Brooke about the band playing tonight. Not that she had anything against the music they played, she just wasn’t in the mood. A guy who was way too enthusiastic with the air guitar moves bumped a woman holding a drink. Ari jumped back, avoiding the splash of alcohol on her black strapless mini-dress but not on her favorite red stilettos. Shit! Maybe that was an omen she should leave.
Brooke stood on a chair, waving her arms.
Ari weaved through partiers to the table near the wall. “Hey.” She hugged Brooke. They sat down in the dark pleather seats. Ari leaned in as she dropped her clutch on the table. “Where’s your friend?”
“Dancing.” Brooke sipped a clear beverage, with lime wedges and mint leaves, from a tall glass. The strobe lights lit up her form fitting, short red dress.
Ari snagged a beverage napkin from the table. She dried moisture from her shoes and the tops of her bare feet. Celine had a dress similar to Brooke’s. She’d worn it to The Song that one night. When was that? How could she forget? Almost every guy in the place had taken notice. And the band had been really good. What had they called themselves? Retribution, redemption, something like that.
Brooke got up. “The servers are taking too long. I’m going to the bar to order another mojito. Want one?”
“No, but I’ll take a ginger ale.” Ari sat back in the chair. The place hadn’t changed. It boasted the same muted walls, dark floors, and metal girders bolted to the ceiling.
“May I buy you a
Brooke grinned. “Thanks for the tip on horses. I’ll include all the details I can on this paper if it gets me an A. You’ve just given me one more reason to strike up a conversation with a very cute researcher who works at the library.”
“You said you didn’t like to go to the library on weekends.”
“Oh, I’m definitely not working on my paper tonight. I’m taking advantage of the long weekend. I’m going to The Song with one of the girls who works at the computer store.”
Ari went with Brooke to the front of Diva Unique. Her, Lauren, and Celine used to spend almost every weekend at the club. Just single girls drinking mangotinis, meeting new guys, and dancing the night away. Now Celine had a new boyfriend, Lauren had South America, and she had the Invisible Man.
Throughout the day, Ari looked over her shoulder, hoping to see Dalir. Funny. Yesterday, he wouldn’t leave her alone. Today, he hadn’t shown up once to check on her. By closing at six, disappointment stole happiness. Ari counted up the registers at the desk in the back office. Let. Him. Go. That’s what she needed to do and focus on real life.
Brooke peeked in. “The store’s all tidied up.”
“And I’m done.” She’d stop thinking about Dalir. Ari grabbed her purse from the bottom drawer. She stuffed the deposit bag inside of it. “Have fun tonight.”
“Thanks.” Brooke hesitated. “You’ve been quiet. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Sure she was. A guy she’d dreamed up was probably a man-whore. What was wrong about that? “I’m good.”
“If you weren’t so tired, I’d invite you to come with us.”
Tired. Yeah, she was tired of missing her friends. Sick and tired of a shitty weekend and sick of guys, real or imaginary, with a hit-it and quit-it mentality. She’d end up buried under more steaming piles of shit if she sat home feeling sorry for herself. Or what if Dalir showed up out of nowhere again? He couldn’t just come and go out of her life as he pleased. “You know what. I’ll meet you there.”
A couple of hours later, Ari arrived at the club. She traded elbows with the crowd as she slipped past servers carrying drinks to tables. Guitar riffs with a heavy metal slant and a steady drumbeat pumped through the speakers. People danced in front of the brightly lit stage.
Contented Wrath. She should have asked Brooke about the band playing tonight. Not that she had anything against the music they played, she just wasn’t in the mood. A guy who was way too enthusiastic with the air guitar moves bumped a woman holding a drink. Ari jumped back, avoiding the splash of alcohol on her black strapless mini-dress but not on her favorite red stilettos. Shit! Maybe that was an omen she should leave.
Brooke stood on a chair, waving her arms.
Ari weaved through partiers to the table near the wall. “Hey.” She hugged Brooke. They sat down in the dark pleather seats. Ari leaned in as she dropped her clutch on the table. “Where’s your friend?”
“Dancing.” Brooke sipped a clear beverage, with lime wedges and mint leaves, from a tall glass. The strobe lights lit up her form fitting, short red dress.
Ari snagged a beverage napkin from the table. She dried moisture from her shoes and the tops of her bare feet. Celine had a dress similar to Brooke’s. She’d worn it to The Song that one night. When was that? How could she forget? Almost every guy in the place had taken notice. And the band had been really good. What had they called themselves? Retribution, redemption, something like that.
Brooke got up. “The servers are taking too long. I’m going to the bar to order another mojito. Want one?”
“No, but I’ll take a ginger ale.” Ari sat back in the chair. The place hadn’t changed. It boasted the same muted walls, dark floors, and metal girders bolted to the ceiling.
“May I buy you a
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