Page 53 of Dissension

Kara winces, thinking of that night that Nick tossed her out of the private sex club. Running into him there had been completely unanticipated…but it made her wonder even more about him, the man who took advantage of her and offered her money to ‘keep her mouth shut’. “Please, don’t remind me.”

“I can always take you both there, too.” Dieter sidles up between them as they approach the front of the bumping club, putting his arms around their waists confidently. Neon lights spill over the waiting partygoers. “I backed Paxton’s purchase of the establishment. I can buy him out of owning it.”

“Yes, weknow. You’re so rich and powerful,” Kara groans with exasperation, rolling her eyes. He grins at her, as if to say,I’m so glad you’ve noticed.

“Don’t boohoo everything, Kara. He’s a handy man to know,” Bianca utters, leaning up against him, fluttering her eyelashes. Oh, God, Bianca’s being effortlessly seduced by her bastard client. Kara hates it, hates it…

The trio strolls past the horde of people waiting impatiently outsideThe Evaand Kara can feel the burn of many eyes staring her way hatefully. The giant bouncer in his nice suit nods to Dieter cordially and says, “Good evening, Mr. Bittinger. Your usual table?”

Dieter smiles with that ever-friendly manner of his that draws people in. He makes people want to like him; that’s why he’s dangerous. “That would be appreciated, Henry. Thanks.”

Within moments, the bouncer is moving aside, gesturing them to enter the deep blue shadows withinThe Eva.

The low thrum of the bass presses against Kara’s senses, pushing into her blood. Down they go, down some deep purple-lit stairs, descending into the spectacle below. Kara feels her eyes widen, taking in the massive dancefloor of writhing people, the stages where women are dancing seductively, and the various lounge areas, filled with well-dressed people dropping more money than she cares to think about.

Sparkling champagne glasses and towers, large fish bowls of alcohol…the sounds and the colors spin the mind. Kara can see why people easily find themselves lost in this for hours of thenight. The establishment iswild.But, a high-end sort of wild. Not the janky sort.

Dieter leads them over to a reserved table with the same confidence with which he does everything. Kara sees some people look at him, knowing who he is. Feels the stare of other women on him. Her jaw clenches, noticing that.

Within moments of sitting at the smooth lounge, a server brings over champagne and vodka, which Dieter and Bianca dive into head first. The server makes a confused face when Kara orders a mocktail. “No alcohol in it,” Kara shouts, trying to be heard as Dieter scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m the designated driver.”

The server shrugs, because there’s no need for designated drivers when there are so many cabs, butwhatever.

When everyone has a drink in hand, Dieter raises his glass in a toast, pale teeth flashing as he says, “Cheers to a great night.”

“Amen to that!” Bianca replies, face already flushed.

Kara tugs on her hand and says loudly, “Dance with me.”

Because that’s why they’re here, isn’t it? It’s not abouthim.

It’s not about how he looks at her as Kara pulls Bianca away, going to the dancefloor.

The song and the beat transcend time, pulsing low in Kara’s blood as she twists and turns with Bianca. The dark shades of blue lighting, hypnotically flickering over them. It makes the whole dancefloor seem slow, more sensual than it probably is.

It’s a fun place, all things considered. The mocktails have been decent, the music is lit, and the atmosphere is definitely a vibe.

“Oh, look at him,” Bianca says loudly into her ear, nudging her to glance back towards where Dieter is. He’s at their loungetable, drinking away. He’snotalone and he’s definitelynotbored. “God, he’s like a chick magnet! How do you handle it?”

“Easy,” Kara replies, keeping her voice empty of feeling, shoving down the screeching in her head. “I simply don’t care.”

She doesn’t care. Shedoesn’t. And watching those other slinky-dressed women paw at him doesn’t make her want a drink to numb how she feels. No. No. She won’t drink. She won’t drink. She hardens her willpower into stone and drinks her mocktailharder.

They keep dancing, Bianca totally lost to the beat. Kara tries, but something keeps drawing her gaze back to the table, where Dieter is, hating that she can’t stopwatching.

The way it feels, seeing the other women brush up on him, the one with her hand sliding down his chest, the way he smiles-

Kara can’t look anymore, her insides turning into rot. She doesn’t understandwhyshe feels this way. This sort of jealousy is foreign to her. “I have to go outside,” she tells Bianca, who gives her a pained look in realization, following along with her. She understands the hint of hurt she sees on Kara’s face, the hurt she’s trying to pretend isn’ta thing.She knows how Kara tends to either mask her feelings or explode.

Kara is absolutelynotletting this brat of a man twist her up like this. He’s her client, nothing more…

Squeezing through the mad throng of people, Kara leads the way out of the club to get air, feeling Bianca holding her hand through the mess. Once outside amongst those cooling down and smoking, Bianca sighs and asks, “Are you still trying to convince yourself that you’re nota thingwith that ridiculously charming piece of manmeat?”

“Manmeat?!” Groaning miserably, Kara sits down on a stone bench and briefly covers her face. “We can’t be a thing. He’s my client. It’s all so fucked up.”

Bianca sighs, applying some lipstick casually. “I like him-”

“You think he’s hot!”

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