Page 42 of Ready to Score

14

Despite its incredibly corny name, Flare was the hottest club in town. Well, maybe that was overstating it. Flare had opened only a few months ago and currently held the title of Greenbelt’sonlyreal club. Residing in an old warehouse, it was four stories high and had clear glass floors that made it feel like you were walking on air. The entire second floor had been decorated to look like some kind of jungle. Lush fake greenery hung in canopies all around; even the private booths and hideaway cabanas were tucked behind thick brush and swaths of gauzy fabric. And the music was loud and thumping, with bass that made Franny move her hips the second she heard it.

Briefly, she wondered who had funded it, but there seemed to be a good deal of money flowing around town these days, and she figured the answer didn’t matter as long as she had a good time.

It was a Saturday night, so the space was packed wall-to-wall with people, some she knew and others she didn’t. Not even two hours ago, Franny had found herself once again alone in her apartment, itching for something. This time, instead of just going to Minnie’s for a slice of cobbler, she’d put on a pair of leather pants, a slinky top, and what some eighteen-year-old on YouTube had referred to as “Euphoriamakeup.” She looked sexy, and she entered the club with every intention of going home with someone.

She was horny and lonely, and it had been far too long since she’d had the company of a beautiful woman between her thighs. For a while, she’d held out hope that Jade Dunn would be that woman. But every day that passed showed her more and more how that was next to impossible. It didn’t matter how much Franny wanted her; Jade was too caught up in her own shit to realize or admit that she was just as interested.

So here she was, trying to move on from a thing that had never even started.

Franny made her way to the bar and ordered a vodka cran, and after trying to mix in the heavy pour as much as possible, she leaned against the bar to survey her surroundings.

She hadn’t been to a straight club in a very long time. Usually, if she was going for a club experience, she wanted to lose herself and come away with someone else clinging to her. That was a lot harder to do when the subjects of your desire weren’t interested on a fundamental level.

Briefly, she considered getting in her car and going to the gay club in Beaufort. But Franny knew that the second she got behind that wheel, she would take her ass to McDonald’s and back home again. Her excitement could be bolstered only so much.

She’d work with what she had and be happy about it. A few minutes into her survey of the club, a woman slid into the space at the bar next to her. A white girl with dark eyes and dirty-blond hair, she had a full sleeve of tattoos, a little lace slip dress, and a pair of combat boots.

Franny considered her for a few moments, then smiled at her when they made eye contact. She was pretty. She had a dark little mole next to her mouth and very red lips. The way she smiled, openly, told Franny everything she needed to know.

“Hi,” Franny breathed out just loud enough to be heard over the music. “What are you drinking?”

“Rum and Coke,” the woman said, her voice high and cute.

“Can I buy it for you?”

The woman pondered the question for a moment. “Only if you dance with me after.”

Franny laughed, half-tickled, half-relieved. “I can do that.”

She slid some cash over to the bartender and, without even exchanging names, the two women made their way into the crowd. Sufficiently surrounded by people, half-hidden by smoke and strobe lights, they rocked and grinded to the music. The other woman had very little rhythm, but Franny found it more adorable than anything else. Their hips and chests bumped and rubbed together, and every time they got close, Franny could see that they were both breathing hard.

The song changed in a slow transition. It was something that Franny didn’t recognize, but her dance partner sure did because she threw her hands up in joy, sending a large wave of rum and soda all down the front of Franny’s clothes.

“Oh my God,” the girl said. “I’m so sorry. Oh my God.”

Franny grimaced, feeling soaked and sticky. “It’s all right. I just need to clean up.”

“Come on, I know where the bathroom is. I’ll clean you up.” The woman grabbed her hand and began leading her through the crowd.

Franny was glad that the club was still relatively new. This meant that the bathrooms weren’t horrifically gross yet. The woman pushed her back up against the sink and grabbed some paper towels. After wetting them, she started to dab at Franny’s skin, only she wasn’t really hitting the areas that had been affected by the spill, like her chest and breasts. Instead, she focused on Franny’s arms, which were almost completely dry.

In the bright lights of the bathroom, Franny could see that the woman looked much more intoxicated than she had out in the club.Not stumbling and blackout, but far drunker than Franny was comfortable with.

Suddenly, she felt tired. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe she should have just gone to Minnie’s after all.

“Umm.” She cleared her throat. “Are you here with anybody?”

“Mm-hmm.” The girl nodded, still dabbing at a dry spot near Franny’s left elbow. “I’m here with my sisters; my youngest is getting married next week.”

“Right.” Franny racked her brain, trying to figure out how to get out of this so she could leave without a fuss.

“They must be missing you by now. Maybe you sh—” Franny broke off with a jolt.

The bathroom had been silent and empty, so the sound of the door opening startled them both. A woman in a short bob wig came in, and Franny got a sinking feeling in her stomach as she recognized her.

Jade Dunn.

---