Page 108 of Contention

With a smirk, Bianca points to her abandoned duffle bag. “Hell no. I always come prepared. Come on. I need to fix that tear stained face.”

“Why? It will scare the boys away. Isn’t that the point?”

Bianca laughs, picking Kara up off the floor. She turns the stereo on dramatically and does a little twirl, pointing at Kara and crooking her fingers at her. “Come on, girl, don’t be shy.”

Kara doesn’t even hear her phone beep with a text from Nick.

It’s Friday.

They go to one of their old favorites. A place that once passed as an upscale martini lounge that morphed into an upscale tiki style nightclub. The place has plenty of fun drinks, alcoholic and non-alcoholic, allowing for patrons of all sorts to come happily enjoy the atmosphere.

Bianca chooses it for that very reason. They can order fun drinks without the liquor and still go dancing on the mysterious dancefloor. Tiki jungle décor crawls over the walls and the ceilings, making everything seem mystical.

It’s fun, but as always, Kara misses the slightly fuzzy feeling that alcohol gives her, the pleasant numbness. She wants to order something with a kick in it, but knows that Bianca is right; she’s starting a spiral downward and Bianca doesn’t even know the worst of what Kara’s been doing.

She wouldn’t understand the sick games she’s been playing with Nick. Maybe no one can understand the way it reminded her of her father, made it almost tangible that perhaps if this vicious man could have some sort of affection for her, maybe her emotionally bankrupt father could too.

Kara is leaving the second level bar, looking to bring a new drink to Bianca, who is waiting for her by the dance floor. Balancing her drink and Bianca’s, Kara nearly walks straight into someone. Strong, athletic fingers settle on her shoulders, keeping her at bay. “Well, look who it is. Kara.” A familiar, smooth voice.

Kara looks up, feeling her heart skip a beat, her throat clenching.Oh. She feels herself flush as she stares up into pale green eyes. Sharp, cruel lips that have the capability of smiling oh so stunningly. “Dieter. I…ah…shit. Didn’t spill on you, did I?” All she knows is that she doesn’t want to be responsible for his dry cleaning bill.

What does she say to him? Last time Kara saw him, Dietrich had been quite put out that she hadn’t played into his hands the way he wanted. Her mind is racing and she hasn’t even been drinking.

He’s got a woman on either side, dressed to the nines in outfits and hair styles that say money money money. Their statures scream runway model and Kara suddenly realizes that’s exactly what the women probably are. They are looking at her like she’s last night’s leftovers. Bad leftovers.

“How about you watch where you’re going?” A brunette on his side snaps at her, pumped-up lips pouted in a not-so-pretty fashion.

“Mindy,” Dietrich says in an uninterested tone, his sharp features blank. He doesn’t take his eyes from Kara’s face. “Shut your mouth. Kara here is a…friend of mine. Be fucking pleasant.”

Somehow, he makes ‘fucking’ sound like a nice, acceptable word.

The two statuesque women give Kara suspicious, competitive looks at his words. Kara wishes he hadn’t called her a friend. They aren’t really friends. Acquaintances suits her just fine.

“Look at you,” the tall raven haired one says in a deceptively sweet voice, only ruined by the look in her eyes. “Sort of cute for a little hobbit, aren’t you?”

Both of the women are easily reaching the six-foot mark, what with their legs that go for miles and their high heels. Kara finds it interesting that Dietrich isn’t bothered by their height; both women are taller than him. Not that he’s short, no, he still has at least six inches on Kara, but these chicks aretall. Swans in human form. With fake tits.

Not that it matters what I think; I can’t stand his ass and he clearly likes women who tower over him. Must be a leg man.

Trying to keep herself from losing her temper with the chick who called her a hobbit, Kara settles for gritting her teeth and saying with an unpleasant smile, “I’m glad you think so. Is the weather different up where you exist, by chance?”

Dietrich snorts, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The raven-haired woman frowns, as if she’s trying to figure out a puzzle. Then, she glares, as if realizing that Kara is calling her a giant.

Kara wants to ask if the chick would like to go outside and duke it out, but that tends to go over the wrong way. Actually, it never leads to anything good. Kara has lived that life, back when she lived far out of the city reach, back in high school when people would have kegs out in the cornfields. She’d show up to drink away her misery, but things often ended up with her scuffling with the prom queen.

“Come sit with us,” Dietrich says, though it doesn’t sound like much of a command. A casual ask, more like. “I’ve got bottle service.”

“I’m here with a friend actually,” Kara replies quickly.

One of his eyebrows quirks. “A boyfriend?”

“Afriend.”

“Bring her with then, I don’t care.” The gorgeous women on either side of him huff in irritation and saunter back towards where their bottle service table must be, leaving Dietrich alone with Kara. His eyes go half-lidded and his gaze darkens. Kara feels her mouth go dry, so she takes a hesitant sip from her goofy little Shirley Temple. It’s tasty, sweet.

His gaze crawls up the shape of her body. When he settles for looking her in the eye, he tilts his head slightly. “I’ve missed seeing you, chickadee. Don’t keep me waiting.” He says it with a sneer, almost sarcastic.

It wasn’t meant to be endearing in the slightest.

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