Page 14 of Such a Good Girl

“You don’t think it could be because you’re good at your job?”

“What? No, I —.”

Her expression stopped me in my tracks.

“You know, your coworkers could be sexist assholes, they could be using you because you’re a woman,andyou could be good at your job. All three could be true at the same time. Don’t sell yourself short, Kaylee.”

I sighed. She was right. I was fucking good at my job. And I was determined to make a difference in this case and not let the assholes get in my way.

“You’re a good friend, Violet.”

“Damn right I am!” she laughed, filling my wine glass and clinking the tip of hers against it. “To you! It’s bad bitch season, Kaylee. You’re the right person for this job. You fucking got this.” She threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly to emphasize her point.

This was what I loved about Violet. Normally shy and quiet in spite of her profession, when it came to lifting up another woman she turned into the fiercest cheerleader around.

I pulled away, smiling gratefully at her.

She grabbed her phone and typed on it for a minute.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking to see who the owners are — ooooh! Wow, Kaylee. West Foster is one of the owners! Did you know that?”

“I have no idea who that is.”

“Oh, girl, you have got to be kidding me.”

“Is he famous?”

She rolled her eyes. “Extremely — he was in that vampire movie we saw.”

“Oh, I do remember that,” I nodded.

“Okay, so what do you need to do to prepare?”

I sighed again, “I’m not sure. Research every detail I can before I get there. Figure out what the fuck is in my closet that’s appropriate to wear.”

She scoffed. “Um, yeah, you’re going to need a little help with that. I’ve seen the contents of your closet.” Her eyes lit up and she jumped up. “I have just the thing!”

She ran off to her room and much to my chagrin came back with what looked like a bunch of black straps tangled in her hands and not much else. She held it up, and while dangling in the air, it vaguely resembled a dress of some sorts. One that had been slashed into several pieces.

I laughed. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s perfection, is what it is! Up!”

“What?”

“This is what you’re wearing.”

“Uh…no.” I shook my head, staying firmly under the blanket of protection I was cozily sheltered under.

“Seriously. Up! Strip!”

“I think I can find something a little more…substantial…in my closet.”

“Shut up!” She reached down and grabbed my hand. I groaned, but let her pull me up. “You haven’t been to the club. I have. Trust me! I know what’s going to get you in, and what’s going to get you a job there. Do you want to find the killer or not?”

She had a point.

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