What We Do in the Night (Day to Night #1) - Stylo Fantome Page 0,16

then shot it back.

“Hey! I was here first!” the patron she'd cut in front of complained. “First come, first serve!”

Both Val and the bartender laughed, then he poured her another shot.

“Buddy, when you start to look like her, you can cut in line, too” he teased, giving her wink as she drank the vodka.

“Tell you what,” she added, turning to the upset man. He was some middle aged yuppie in an ill-fitting suit. Caché was probably the highlight of his week. “Your next drink's on me, stud.”

Then she gave him a big, noisy kiss on his cheek before flouncing off to the dance floor.

Normally she never drank at work, but she was a big girl who could handle her liquor – two shots wouldn't do much. Besides, she was stressed from her day, and annoyed from her evening with Harper, and so goddamn fucking tired, she honestly didn't care about anything right then.

For twenty minutes, Val danced by herself, keeping an eye on the crowd as the room slowly started to fill. She caught a couple guys giving her eyes, but most of them seemed to be there with other people, which was annoying.

She also kept shooting glances at the booth by the door, and she was positive she recognized Derrick from the night before – she was shocked to see him again, she'd thought for sure his membership wouldn't get approved. But she didn't see Richard anywhere. Pity.

One more song, then I'll do a sweep through the house, see if I can pick anyone up in the Fun Rooms.

An old techno song came on, one she loved. One she'd gotten lost to in many a club back in New York. A heavy industrial techno vibe, it got into her bones and played havoc with her heartbeat. Go-go dancing had been a natural job choice for Valentine, she loved to dance. She loved to move her body. She loved to feel the rhythm.

DelVecchio had seen it in her right away when she'd auditioned for the go-go job. Her body was a conduit for music, she gave it form and figure. Turned it into sex and magic. But right then, during that song, in that moment, she hoped the magic didn't work on anyone else.

Just a couple more minutes to myself, please.

Of course it was too much to ask for – she should've known better. When she lost herself to the music, she always attracted somebody. She felt fingers on the back of her neck, above the neckline of her shirt. Then they gently started tracing their way down her spine, she could feel them through the fabric of her top.

“I'd almost convinced myself it wasn't you.”

She recognized the voice, but couldn't place it. It was hard to hear properly with the loud music. She hoped it was Richard, he'd be an easy job that she could stretch to last all night. She smiled big and slowly turned around.

Then completely froze in place.

Ari Sharapov stood in front of her. Harper's dickhead boyfriend. He had the same smirk he'd been wearing in the apartment, an almost mocking smile. An annoying lock of his wavy hair had fallen over his forehead, giving his sharp appearance a roguish look. He was still wearing the same suit he'd had on earlier, minus the blazer. Seeing the vest and shirt and pants without the jacket just showcased the impeccable tailoring even more. He wore the suit like it was a second skin.

A skin I'd very much like to feel against my own.

“Sorry, have we met?” Valentine forced herself to sound casual as she started swaying to the beat again.

It was a pathetic attempt, she knew, but she had to try it. She knew she looked very different from day to night. When he'd met her earlier, she'd been in her day time clothing, her hair a messy knot on top of her head, and she'd been wearing absolutely no makeup.

Now, she was painted and buffed and made over for days – she practically had a whole new face, she was so covered in bronzer and highlighter and contour. Two sets of thick, false eyelashes also helped with her transformation, and her matte red gloss made her lips look plumper than normal. There was a chance, just a small one, that he might believe she wasn't the same girl.

“Technically, we met last night,” Ari replied, catching her off guard. “When I saw you sitting in Harper's kitchen, I was a little surprised, to say the least. I