Page 35 of Fletcher: Sagittarius King

Weird comment to make, but I mumble a gracious thank you, assuming something got lost in translation.

“Do you have friends with you?” Cass asks, taking out a hand mirror and fixing her bright red lipstick.

“No. I’m here solo tripping. Had a quarter life crisis and… here I am.”

“Do you like Italy?” she asks genuinely. Her eyes are so intense.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Not as pretty as Greece,” Cass says. “But I agree. Shall we go in?”

“We should head to the back of the line,” I say, my stomach knotting as I see the line stretched around the block. I hope we can even get into the club.

Cass grins, unperturbed by the growing line outside Jalousie.

“My cousin owns the place. Come on, we go in through the back.”

Before I can protest, she takes my hand and we walk around a back alley that smells like trash, vomit and again — cigarettes. Cass drags me over to a door and surveys me once before touching the handle.

“Very proper outfit. Excellent. Let’s go. Ready to dance?”

I nod, even if I’m nervous. Sure, I’m trying to have an adventure tonight, but I just met this chick. How do I know she isn’t crazy? Well, she has Edo’s backing, so at least she’ll be a good time. Edo definitely knows how to have fun if his clubbing stories are even 55% true.

Cass punches in a six-digit code and the back door to the club opens. I can smell the club before I hear the music and Cass drags me in through the back before I can second guess myself. What am I really doing? I don’t know this chick at all and I agreed to go clubbing with her? Is Edo’s word really enough?

Once we’re in the back door, a man appears. He’s tall, with dark brown slicked back hair, tattoos all over his arms and grey eyes. He has broad shoulders, but is otherwise lean and very muscular. He’s handsome, but it’s too bad he smokes. I can smell the cigarettes from a distance.

“Cass? What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks, seeming genuinely upset.

“Shut the fuck up, Enzo,” Cass snaps, her expression changing suddenly into a disapproving scowl. “I have business here.”

The man smirks. He’s around Cass’ height, but he looks… greasy.

“Is that her?”

“Mind your fucking business.”

Cass pushes him hard so we can get past him. The grey-eyed man’s eyes land on me and he runs his hand over his jawline before snickering.

“He’s going to kill you.”

“Shut up,” Cass snarls. Enzo laughs and raises his hands in defeat.

“Enjoy your night,” he says to me in a sing-song voice. For the first time, I feel real hesitation. But Cass grabs my hand and drags me inside of the club.

Cass drags me all the way to the tables and chairs surrounding the dance floor, chatting excitedly and peppering me with questions about America. I struggle to understand her accent at first, but then I get into the rhythm of her voice and it’s easier for us to communicate.

I have to listen in so hard that I barely scan the room we enter. At least the nightclub has a nice interior, and it doesn’t seem like any ghetto shit might pop off. Another Edo exaggeration, it seems. I relax as Cass sets me up at a small, two-person table.

“I’ll get you a drink. Wait here. If anyone comes to talk to you, tell them you are with Cass Pagonis. That will shut them up.”

Before I can protest, or offer to come with her, Cass disappears. Shit. I guess I have to wait here. I already have five texts from Edo about the hotties he met at the club a few doors over. Damn, he moves quick. I’ve been here for weeks already and I still haven’t met a heterosexual male who hasn’t been an incredibly old and excessively horny man offering for me to be his ‘African prostitute’ — offers I have obviously declined.

Cass returns quickly, before I have any time to worry with two shots, each one with some blue flavoring at the bottom.

“Okay, Jodi. This is to a long and beautiful friendship between us, starting with one crazy night, yeah?”

I nod. “Hell yeah. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

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