atmosphere. Eurythmics ‘Sweet Dreams’ is pumping, the dance floor is packed, and the bar is ten deep. Not that my final observation registers with Lucy. She pushes her way through, dragging me behind her, and I follow her indication when she points up, seeing a sign stating ‘VIP GUESTS’ glowing above our heads.
‘What makes us VIPs?’
‘These.’ She flashes two pink cards. ‘Mark gave them to me.’ She grins. ‘Even though I told him I was busy tonight.’
‘Found out if the rumours about him and the girl from floor eighteen in the printing room are true?’
‘Sadly, yes.’
‘Oh. How?’
She shrugs. ‘I asked the girl from floor eighteen.’
‘That was rather bold of you.’
She snorts, just as a barman arrives. ‘What are we having?’
‘Grey Goose and tonic. Make it a double,’ I say, turning my back on the bar and glancing up, seeing podiums scattered around the club with half-naked women adorning them, dancing suggestively. ‘Wow.’
‘The Bubblegum Girls?’ Lucy passes me a highball, and my lips find the straw without taking my eyes off one of the girls atop a podium.
‘Bubblegum Girls?’
‘Yes, he told me about them. He’s probably had a few.’
‘He?’ I look at Lucy, noting she’s nearly worked her way through her drink already.
‘Printer-room guy.’ She gives me a look. ‘Mark.’
‘And what does Mark look like?’
She shrugs nonchalantly. ‘Blond, beard, cute mole on his cheek. Come on.’ She starts pulling me away from the bar before I can press her on Mark, but I make a mental note to do so once we’ve found a base in the club.
‘Are you on a mission tonight?’ I ask.
‘Yes.’ We arrive at a cornered-off section, with booths lining the curved wall. Lucy flashes her pink card to the doorman keeping guard, looking over her shoulder and winking at me when he grants us immediate access.
‘Pick a table, girls,’ he grunts, indicating a few empty ones in the centre. ‘It’s yours for the rest of the evening.’
I give Lucy wide eyes, and she giggles before hotfooting it over to one right in the middle with a perfect view over the dance floor. We get comfy and I glance up to see one of the Bubblegum Girls approaching.
She sets a bottle of champagne in the middle of the table with two glasses. ‘I’m Evette. I’ll be serving you this evening.’ She smiles, resting her weight on her hip. ‘Champagne is courtesy of management.’
‘Then keep it flowing,’ Lucy says, grabbing the bottle and pouring. ‘We’ll take another in about ten minutes.’
Bubblegum Girl sashays away as Lucy pops the cork and pours. ‘Hey, calm down,’ I warn when she downs her full glass in one swoop. ‘What’s the rush?’
‘No rush,’ she says, topping it back up. I eye her warily across the table, suspicious, her words from the bar still at the forefront of my mind. Her eyes are flicking back and forth to a table of blokes not too far away, and after observing her for a few moments, seeing her jaw tightening by the second, I turn to see what’s got her attention. A guy. Quite a hot guy, with blond hair and a well-trimmed beard. I can’t see the cute mole, but I’d put my life on the fact that it’s there.
‘Mark,’ I blurt, swinging my eyes to Lucy. ‘That’s Mark, isn’t it? Printer-room guy.’
‘That’s him.’ She rips her eyes away.
‘Not gonna say hello?’
‘Nope.’ She slumps back in her seat, swirling the champagne in her glass. ‘Anyway, how was the rest of your day?’
My glass pauses on its way back to the table as I cautiously glance up, finding an expectant look on her face. ‘I intended on clearing the air, but when I went to his office to do so, Brent Wilson turned up.’
‘Oh, no.’
‘I know,’ I say. ‘I’ve never been in such an awkward situation. He asked me out again.’ I neglect to mention the fact that the veins on Becker’s neck looked set to burst at that point. She’ll only surmise what that might mean, and I’m worried about what that could be.
‘And you said—?’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
I sit back, evading her gaze. ‘I didn’t want to,’ I murmur lamely.
‘Why?’ She’s not giving in.
‘Just . . . because.’
‘Because of no one?’
My lips purse, and she smiles at me, her tongue pushing into her cheek mischievously.
‘I know it’s a bad idea,’ I admit. ‘And I have a feeling I’m just a game to both of them. I’m not interested in that at all.’
‘A game?’
‘I don’t think they like each other.’ I shrug.
Lucy’s face screws up a little