Page 11 of Irresistibly Wild

“Hurry up, Tati!” She rolls down the window. “We’re already running late!”

“Late forwhat,Harlow?” I slip inside and buckle my seatbelt.

“I’ll explain everything when we get there. I brought an extra outfit in case you don’t want to look out of place.”

I look over at her, eyeing the deep plunging cut in her sparkling pink party dress. It’s a custom Chanel piece that doesn’t belong to her.

“That was one of my mom’s favorite runway dresses, Harlow.”

“I’m aware.” She shrugs, pulling onto the road. “I snagged one of her Givenchy rompers for you.”

“You could’ve at least asked me if it was okay first…”

“I didn’t have any extra time.” She whined. “I’ve been having a super stressful day and the hours got away from me. Anyway, I saw the hottest guy ever during my manicure appointment. You’ll never guess what he said to me…”

I clench my fists as she rambles, waiting for her to ask me something—anything—about today’s expo, but she never does.

While she’s rehashing “how hard” it was for her to choose between Bubblegum Pink and Freakum Dress Poppy nail polish, I realize that I can’t take her conversation anymore.

“Can you drop me off at home please?” I ask.

“Hell no.” She scoffs. “That’s too far out of the way.”

“With all due respect, which is very little—”

“Let’s make it ‘with alldisrespect’ then,” she interrupts me. “I’m sick and tired of my social life revolving around your joke of a career that does nothing except fill up a medal closet instead of a bank account. I’m sorry your mom died, but life goes on. You can’t skate forever, and I can’t drive you around forever either. So, we’re doing whatIwant to do tonight, and we’ll go home after.” She speeds through a yellow light. “If you want to spend hundreds on an Uber tonight, be my guest, but I’m not missing out on this for you. Clear?”

I sit on my hands to prevent myself from leaning over and strangling her.

“That’s what I thought.” She turns on the radio, and I look out the window—mentally calculating my chances of survival if I jump out of the car.

She’s lucky the odds aren’t in my favor.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later,we park in front of a massive warehouse with tinted black windows. The towering red sign on its roof has four letters lit for the night.

HELL.

There’s a line wrapped around the side, leading toward a flashing door that warns, “VIP only.”

“What is this place?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.” Harlow pulls down the visor and uncaps a lipstick. “You should be far more concerned with changing out of that ridiculous sweatshirt.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugs, stepping out. “I don’t trust you enough to leave you alone in my car, so are you getting an Uber or coming inside?”

“Inside…” I hold back a groan and follow her to the front of the line.

A bouncer scans her phone before handing us black and gold wristbands.

They read, “Welcome to The Underground: We don’t talk about this. Ever.”

I roll my eyes and reconsider getting that Uber.

“This way, Tati.” Harlow leads me toward another door.

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