Jess makes a dive for the bottled water positioned between our seats and drinks it down ravenously. ‘Oh, that’s so good.’
‘Hard Rock?’ the driver asks as he hops in, quickly pulling out of the car park.
‘Please,’ I confirm, giving Jess excited eyes, which she returns before diving into her bag and pulling out her makeup. She starts to freshen up, and though I roll my eyes, I accept her compact powder when she hands it to me. No work uniform for five whole days. I need to make the most of it.
The drive to our hotel is surprisingly quick, and I reluctantly vacate the cool car and step into the near-on unbearable heat again.
when this house is rocking, don’t bother
knocking . . . come on in!
‘Okay!’ Jess shouts after she’s read the sign over the entrance of the Hard Rock Hotel. ‘I can’t believe we’re here.’
I follow her in, and we both come to a stop as we’re hit by cool air. Bright lights glow at every turn, and a fuck-off big Harley is on display. ‘Oh, wow,’ I breathe.
‘Check in, dump our cases, and drink.’ Jess makes a dash for the insanely long reception desk, and I’m relieved to find only a few people in the queue after it feels like I’ve done nothing but queue since we left home. We’re armed with our key card ten minutes later, and up in our room ten minutes after that.
I dive on the bed and sigh. ‘We need to keep going or our body clocks will be buggered.’
Jess frowns and spins towards the long drapes keeping the room dark. ‘What’s that noise?’
I look towards the drawn curtain, where the vibrating beats of music sound beyond. ‘It’s coming from out there.’
Jess is over like a shot, yanking open the curtains, then the terrace doors beyond them. Music blares in, loud and pumping. Calvin Harris, if I’m not mistaken. ‘Fuck. Izzy, look!’
I take in the scene before us. A pool, all tropical-looking, with bodies everywhere drinking and dancing. ‘It’s two p.m.,’ I murmur. ‘Yes, but it’s ten p.m. at home.’ She starts dancing around the room, singing at the top of her voice as I scan the ground below, and then the skyline. I can’t believe we’re here, and it couldn’t have come at a better time in my life. A time-out. Room to breathe. Here, I will let my hair down and enjoy my first girlie holiday. I don’t want to waste a moment of it. Especially not on thinking.
*
We land at the circular bar in Hard Rock half an hour later, fresh and ready for our first night. ‘Surprise us,’ Jess tells the barman, her blonde curls free and loose. It’s nice to see her hair down for once, instead of coiled up tightly into a bun as it always is for work.
‘My kinda ladies.’ The barman goes straight for a bottle under the counter and starts to pour.
I pull my insanely short black dress down my thighs as I try to take in the huge space. ‘I’m mesmerized,’ I say, spotting a card table surrounded by rowdy men and a few women scattered in between.
‘Do you think they’re hookers?’ Jess asks. I ponder her question for a few moments, looking the women up and down before I cast my eyes to my front. They look no different from me, dressed up to the nines at only two-thirty p.m.
‘Here, ladies,’ the barman says, and we turn to find two long, clear highballs on the bar. ‘Some advice for you, girls.’ He slides a small plastic plate across the bar with our bill on it.
I sign the piece of white paper to our room, ignoring the insane cost of two drinks. ‘What’s that?’
‘Happy hour is six to seven.’ He smiles, obviously catching my poorly concealed gawk at the dollar signs. ‘Two for one,’ he adds, leaving us with our drinks.
I swoop mine up and turn on my stool, slurping back the mystery concoction and immediately wincing. ‘Fucking hell.’
Jess starts coughing. ‘Jesus. No measly measures here.’
‘It’s good once you get past the initial shock.’ I shudder and slip down from my stool when I spot some straws on the bar. I need to stir this thing. I hear my phone ring and look back as I pluck two straws from the holder, seeing Jess help herself and answer.
And when her eyes widen, I have a horrible feeling I know who is on the line. And then she nods and confirms