I stay right where I am, seething in the dressing room, trying to figure out what the fuck I am to him.
What I want to be. Andwhy I care.
My fingers tighten at my sides. Then I turn back to the mirror, grab my clutch, and yank out my phone to order an Uber.
Because fuck him.
* * *
The secondI step out of the car, the bass from inside Doomsday hits me like a punch to the chest.
The club, housed in what was once a factory in the Meatpacking District, has a reputation as a place that can get…pretty wild. It's also popular with the underworld royalty of New York, and it’s not uncommon to see young mafia and bratva heirs downing shots of vodka and dancing the night away here.
Honestly, this place—at least its reputation—used to scare me a little. But then a couple of months ago, we came here for Lyra’s impromptu bachelorette party, and Milena and I ended up having ablast.
And now it’s made its way into “the crew’s” rotation for nights out.
“The crew” would be the usual suspects of partners in crime: Lyra, Milena, Brooklyn, Evelina, Bianca, and sometimes, if he’s not off causing mayhem somewhere else, Vaughn.
Tonight, that list is a little pared down. Bianca's out of the hospital, but she’s still taking it easy at home. Lyra is being super lame and not coming out as often, choosing instead to stay home and do whatever it is she and Carmine do.
…Which, A, seems to keep her in amazing shape, and B, gives herlotsof the same kind of bruises I’ve used half a case of concealer to cover tonight.
My phone pings with a message on my group chat just as I get to the door.
Brooklyn
NAOMI!!! Where r u? We’re all inside.
Me
Here! Just getting through security.
Brooklyn
Hurryyyy! Evie's shitfaced.
I grin. That probably means Evelina has had all of half a cocktail. The girl's a complete lightweight.
Evelina
Am not!! :P :P :P
Milena
I’m revoking your Russian card. You’re gonna ruin our hard-earned reputation.
Lyra
LOL. Have fun ladies!
Bianca
Booooooo. Bed rest sucks :(
Evelina
Naaaoooommii!! Getttt in heeeeeeeeeere!!!!!!!!