Page 96 of Remy

I nod despite the alarm bells ringing in my sleep-deprived brain. Could this be what I need to get my life back on track? My opportunity to get Remy’s number instead of stealing it from Dad’s phone? To maybe even speak to Remy in person?

“I’d love to come,” I lie. “As long as we can go to Smoke & Mirrors.”

19

OLIVIA

I wanted to arrive early and scope my surroundings. But making myself fit for visual consumption took ten times longer with the bags under my eyes now bigger than checked luggage for a three-month vacay.

Allison and Ivy are already waiting to get into the club, the line around the building packed with shivering women dressed in skimpy outfits as they cling to winter coats, my friends not immune to the scant dress code.

I scoot under the velvet rope to stand beside them, thankful I decided on my sleek black high-waisted skinny jeans, a bold red off-the-shoulder top, and my wool-lined leather jacket. With my hands shoved in my pockets, the only inch of space currently getting railed by the chill is between the top of my ankle boots and the hem of my pants.

“I’m so glad you showed.” Allison engulfs me in a hug. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I give her a quick squeeze and meet Ivy’s gaze over Allison’s shoulder as I ram my fists back into my jacket pockets. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Her mouth curves in a somber smile.

“Allison said you’ve had a tough week. I hope you’re okay.”

She shrugs and glances away. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

I don’t doubt it. She’s always been tough as nails. Don’t ask me how or why. She’s a closed book when it comes to her upbringing. But the one thing Ivy never disappoints with is how she’s always entirely on brand. If it isn’t fun, flirty, or downright flamboyant, it’s rarely part of her narrative.

“Are you sure?”

She plasters on a fake grin. “Are you kidding? It’s Friday night and you’re in line with us to go into a club. This is the highlight of my life.” She meets my gaze, her eyes glassy as she snuggles farther into her white winter coat. “But for the record, I’m not a huge fan of the location.”

“Why?” Allison rubs her gloved hands together in a vain attempt for warmth. “We come here all the time.”

“We used to come here all the time.” Ivy leans back against the building, cocking the sole of her thigh-high boot on the brickwork. “Before it changed owners.”

My stomach does a sweeping role. “What’s wrong with the new ownership?”

“I’ve heard he’s not just shady, he’s practically the king of shadows.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Allison reaches out, placing a gloved palm to Ivy’s forehead. “I thought bad boys were your vibe.”

Ivy swats Allison’s hand away. “From what I’m told he’s not merely a bad boy. He’s the type that gets his kicks by—” She makes a slashing gesture across her throat. “Now call me vanilla, but I prefer not to get laid while the life is draining from my body.”

Allison screws up her nose. “No need to be so graphic.”

I replicate the screwed face gesture, but for a different reason. Mainly because all those months of picturing me and Remy sleeping together climb up from the depths of my subconscious to plaster themselves to my frontal lobe… and they’re nowhere near the gory scene Ivy depicts.

“Are you sure it’s not a rumor?” I hedge. “Surely this place would be shut down if anything illegal was happening.”

And I would’ve read about it, given my current fixation with consuming online Remy Costa content.

“Who knows?” Ivy shuffles farther along the building as more people are allowed entry inside the club. “But it’s always good to be aware in case you see something out of the ordinary.”

I shrug. “I don’t plan on staying long enough to witness any illegal shenanigans.”

I just need to find Remy. Get his number. Potentially renegotiate terms. Then flee. And if he’s not here, I’ll hit up his employees until one of them gives me his digits.

Ivy smirks. “What if you meet the man of your dreams?”

My face falls. “Please tell me you haven’t set me up with someone.”

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