Page 3 of The Devil Can Be Kind

Not tonight!I stopped that train of thought and brought myself back to April’s bad singing.

A short while later, the car pulled onto the infamous Las Vegas strip and to our only destination for the night: The Venetian Prince.

When we arrived at the colossal new building, we were greeted with crowds of hopefuls waiting in line at its entrance. Desperation hung thick in the air as we exited the car and walked through to the VIP section. We flashed the doorman our fancy laminated passes and within minutes were beckoned inside, much to the irritation of those still waiting in line.

The flashing lights and roaring music of the nightclub perforated our senses as we wandered through the entranceway to the heart of the club. An expansive dance floor dominated the club’s center, with wall-to-wall bartenders and seats surrounding the space. We were directed to our left and up ashort flight of stairs, which led to a balcony overlooking it all. I saw no less than ten luxury black booths as we reached the top, each trimmed with gold filigree. We wandered over to the furthest of them after spotting some familiar faces amongst the crowd.

“Bonnie!” I shrieked as she came running out of the booth. “Happy birthday, beautiful!”

“Addie! April! This is fucking awesome right? Look at these booths!” She lounged over the side of our lavishly designated alcove.

“Come take a seat!” Brad, who was already sitting beside my friend, called out to us.

We slipped into the plush velvet booth and helped ourselves to the bottle of champagne on ice at its center.

“Girls, these are my friends Louie and Jack.” Brad gestured to the two men sat to his right.

The man I assumed was Louie was dressed in a fitted blue polo and was undoubtedly handsome, with ‘All-American captain of the football team’ vibes. Jack on the other hand looked a bit more rebellious with visible tattoos and a low-cut black top. Neither one was particularly my type though.Great.

Bonnie sat on the other side of Brad with her other two friends, who I had only met a handful of times. They were all engaged in an enthusiastic debate on what shots to order, while April was making quick work of getting to know Louie and Jack.

“Are you in college?” Jack shouted across to me.

“Uh, no. I work at a loan company.” I smiled, downing a mouthful of champagne. “What do you do?”

“I work in advertising.” He pushed out his chest proudly.

“Cool.”

“And you?” he asked, turning to April.

“I’m in retail,” April said cheerfully. “Pays like shit, but at least I get discounted clothes.” She shrugged and we giggled.

The idle chatter continued for several minutes as the men figured out their odds on leaving with us tonight.

I internally rolled my eyes as Jack made another play in my direction, and I shirked away from his hand as it came to rest against my leg under the table.

“I’m going to dance!” I declared, suddenly standing up and pulling April up along with me.

She shot me a knowing look as we walked the short distance down to the dance floor, weaving through a small break in the bodies packing the LED tiles. Hand in hand, we began swaying salaciously to the music.

One song morphed into another, and I found myself lost amongst the heavy bass and thuds of the track as it bled from the speakers. After a few more songs had ebbed away, Louie decided to join us with a goofy smile on his face. It was clear that he was trying to put the moves on April, and she was only too eager to accept the attention. Deciding I didn’t want to become the third wheel to a tongue bath, I stepped away after a few moments and went over to one of the bars lining the room.

The place was jammed, and my five feet one inch didn’t stand a chance of getting the bartender’s attention, even with my VIP badge. After about ten minutes of trying and failing to get a drink, I turned back to the dance floor watching the gyrating bodies and pulsing strobes overhead.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?” A polite female voice broke me from my reverie.

It was one of the bartenders.

“This is for you.” She placed a large cocktail in front of me on the bar.

“Um… I didn’t order this,” I admitted, looking at the drink.

It wasn’t just any drink. It was a coconut lime spritzer—my favorite drink.

“It’s from the gentleman over there.” She nodded to her right, but I couldn’t see anyone I recognized in that general area.

“Which gentleman? And this isn’t spiked, is it?” I looked at the glass quizzically.

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