Page 39 of Contention

Kara was lucky enough to slip away before whoever drugged her could really engage with her. She probably had disappeared into the crowd too fast to catch.

“I’ll just do three shots at the bar to be good for the night, then hit the dance floor, no cup needed,” Kara replies instead. “Are you game?”

Bianca squeals and pumps her fist. Ack, a holdover from their favorite reality tv show from when they were nineteen. Frankly, the goofy charm of it never gets old. The girls all line up at the bar and order a few different shots to be poured in front of them in a row.

Kara gets a definite headache just looking at her overflowing glasses. Patron, Patron, and a redheaded slut shot for kicks. Vodka drowns her sorrow, but Tequila makes herdance. “Bottoms up, bitches,” Bianca says loudly as they all take hold of their first glass.

They quickly sing out a raunchy drinking chant, smiling.

Kara upends one glass and then another into her mouth without pause, trying to not focus on the taste, because it’s far too fast and she’s far too sober to drink like this. Hopefully she won’t be sober for long. It burns in her mouth and down her throat. The tequila is smooth, but it still kicks violently in her belly, revolting. The redheaded slut shot is sweeter and she chose it for her last shot by design. Someone makes a gagging noise to her left, trying to keep the alcohol down.

Birthday Princess wipes her glistening lips and gives them a slightly green stare. “I think this is it. I’m too old to do this anymore. It’s all downhill from here.”

Bianca laughs and Kara disagrees, because she has no intention of going downhill. She’s already been as low as she can go, there isn’t anywhere lower. All she can do is go up and dammit, she will.

They dance shortly after, the alcohol coursing through their veins, pulling them to greater heights of excitement as they move to the beat. It doesn’t take long for the high alcohol content to soften the edges of Kara’s vision, to make her feel loose and uncaring. Her limbs flow and everything slows down.

The dancefloor is overheating quickly, packed with moving bodies. Kara feels lightheaded and eventually decides that she needs air and a bottle of water. The party lights flash over her head and Bianca grasps Kara’s hand as they aimlessly dance around amidst the throng of people around them.

Time swirls by to the sound of the music, blasting from the DJ stage. Bianca’s friend, the birthday girl, comes up behind Bianca and tries to pull her away to dance together. Kara figures this is a good chance to go take a breather on the sidelines and get some water in her. “I’m going to get water and step outside to get some air,” she shouts. “Want to come with? It’s suffocating in here.”

Bianca blows her a kiss and winks. “Water already? You’re a party pooper, love. Stay by the bouncers outside, k?”

Kara waves her off, “Yeah, yeah…”

After buying a bottled water from the bar, Kara gets her hand stamped by the host and saunters out to the front, eager for some fresh air to cool her down. The club is in the fun section of town, so multiple bars, high end liquor stores and clubs all surrounded the area. Well lit, mostly safe. Kara sits down on a stone bench and cracks open her water, gulping it down. Groups of people smoking stand outside, some just cooling off from the dance floor.

Club-goers are always amusing to people watch. The drama. The drunks. The terrible pick-up lines.

The two bouncers are large men, giant arms crossed over their barrel chests. They guard the doors, checking ID’s or looking for glow-in-the-dark stamps on the wrists of those who have just come outside to relax. They watch over the collection of people with serious eyes, making sure no one causes trouble in front of the club.

Kara is left to her own devices safely, the sweat in her hair beginning to cool as she sits and watches her surroundings with a pleasant buzz.

As she’s cooling off, she sees a limo pull up across the street, idling beside the over-priced upscale liquor store. For a moment, Kara stares at it, one eye narrowing as something pokes at her memory. She’s never noticed limos before; now she does.

A girl in a short little dress gets out, extremely scandalous, followed by two men. She has loud, obnoxious giggles that Kara can hear from across the street. Annoying. The trio disappears into the liquor store for a few minutes and Kara really thinks nothing of it.

At least, not until one of the men comes back outside the shop rather quickly with a brown bag, a familiar stride and a familiar face. The other two must still be browsing for whatever they intend to purchase. Maybe the girl is using the bathroom. That doesn’t detract from the fact that Kara knows the man who is about to get back in the limo, opening the door to hand in the brown bag.

Nicholas Havenwood-Calais. In the fucking flesh.

Kara feels her hand clench around her water bottle, crunching it loudly.

I could just walk over there. Right now. I could give him a piece of my mind. On my own terms. I can’t go to the Dark Mirage. I can’t talk to him in court. If I go over there right now while he’s out with his friends…oh, I bet he’d hate that. I could be the ultimate cockblock while I’m at it. Maybe he successfully got through to Derrick today. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe Gale called him. I won’t know what happened unless I get him to talk straight.

The last thing I need is for him to move forward with making a complaint to the judge before Monday.

Her teeth are grinding together as she pulls her nerves into place. This is a sign. A chance for her to save face and her career. He can’t avoid her if she flat out confronts him while he’s right here in front of the club, in clear view of the security.

Kara smiles darkly. She quickly texts Bianca that she changed her mind, she’s going home, then strides across the street. The closer she gets, the more her heart pounds. He’s leaning against the limo, looking at the doors of the liquor store, waiting on the other pair to come out.

He looks rather powerful, with his slightly mussed hair and his perfect suit.Irritating.

In a stealthy fashion, Kara comes up beside him, just in his peripheral. “Run out of fun juice so early in the night? You’re ambitious.”

Calais straightens and his head turns to look at her. His jaw slackens in shock, seeing her standing there just beside him, her arms akimbo on her hips accusingly. He opens his mouth to say something in response, but a loud cackle interrupts them, the pair from the store heading their way.

The woman, caked in makeup that appears to be slightly…messy at this point, gives her an interested glance before drunkenly giggling and sliding into the limo, saying, “Oh, hi sweetie.” As the limo door opens again, Kara is hit with the scent of alcohol, perfume, and cologne. She nearly coughs.

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