Page 99 of Remy

“What about your bad week?” I ask. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Absolutely.” She steps closer, leaning in like she’s about to drop a conspiracy theory. “What I would love to talk about, though, is the fresh batch of man candy now working under our roof. Isn’t Wesley just the finest masculine specimen you’ve ever seen? And that jawline.” She clasps at her chest. “I’d let that man crack me in half.”

Allison snorts. “You’re always on brand, Ive.”

“Of course I am. What else are men good for?”

A barely legal guy encroaches behind us. “I’m happy to show you all the things back at my place.”

“Aww.” Ivy looks at him with puppy-dog eyes. “Aren’t you just the sweetest for proving my point.”

“There’s no shame in a player’s game, sweetheart.” He turns to his posse of male friends with a smirk. “I’d be happy to crack you in half.”

Someone clears their throat in front of us.

“Next,” a deep voice grumbles.

We ignore the swarming testosterone behind us and step forward.

Two bouncers wait before the doors of Smoke & Mirrors. One is stereotypical—big, bulky, bald. The other is young. Too young, with shaggy blond hair and a baby face sprinkled with freckles. I’d bet my sanity that he’s still in school—not that my failing mental health holds much merit these days. It seems odd, though, that Remy would employ a kid too young to work the club scene.

“Hello, gentlemen.” Ivy saunters toward them, gaining a hungry stare from both man and child as she hands her ID to Mr. Big and Bulky.

“Ma’am.” The big guy inclines his head and inspects her ID with practiced scrutiny, his expression remaining neutral before he indicates for her to step in front of his podium, directly in line with the club facial scanner.

Allison goes through the same procedure with the kid, sans flirtation, while I hang back, my nervousness building.

“Next.” Big and Bulky looks at me, holding his hand out for my ID while Ivy climbs the few stairs to the club entry.

I freeze in place as Allison follows her onto the steps.

“Ma’am?” the guy asks, the younger male watching with curiosity.

“Sorry.” I clear my throat. “Go ahead without me.” I meet Ivy’s gaze and wave my ID in the air toward the front doors of the club. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She frowns. Allison follows suit.

“Please.” I clasp my hands in prayer. “I’m dying for a drink, and you both know how much I hate to line up. The thought of a packed bar, teeming with drunken extroverts, is enough to make me want to turn tail already.”

“You are not going home.” Ivy points a perfectly manicured finger at me.

“Then please go inside and get me something to bolster my confidence.” I bat my lashes. “Pretty please.”

“Fine.” Allison rolls her eyes. “But I’m going to make it a double.”

The bouncer clears his throat, impatiently waiting for me to hand over my ID.

“Given my upcoming level of discomfort, a double would be perfect.” I wait until they swing around to the open doors to the club vestibule then continue inside before handing over my driver’s license.

“It’s not that crowded in there.” The bouncer scans my ID and gets me to stand in front of the high-tech camera. “And the extroverts are usually too busy dry-humping on the dance floor to disturb the quiet ones.”

“That makes sense.” I force a chuckle. “But that wasn’t really my concern.” I smile sweetly. Well, I try at least. Fake expressions aren’t my forte. “I actually wanted to speak to you… to ask if Remy’s working tonight.”

Big and Bulky’s brow furrows as he focuses on his computer screen. “Why’s a girl like you asking about a man like him?”

A girl like me? Do I seriously have ‘virgin’ tattooed on my forehead?

I give another awkward chuckle at the low-key insult. “We know each other, and I really need to speak to him.”

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