okay?” I asked at the same time Jane yelped, “Oh my god, Candace, your makeup is running!” We both handed her fistfuls of tissues, for different reasons.
Candace blew her nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying at a bachelorette party. I guess I’m sad that so much has changed recently. I got married, I’m having a baby soon. A year ago, my life was much more carefree. Now my life will never be the same. I think this might be my hormones talking, though.” She took a deep breath and fanned her face with her hands.
I reached out and patted her arm. “Candace, we’re here for you, no matter what.”
Jane patted her other arm. “Well, whatever you think of your life, at least you’re not getting ripped apart online like Melody, by a bunch of douchebag losers who probably live in their mom’s basement.”
“Yeah, Melody, what’s going on with that?” Candace had stopped crying and had regained her composure.
I shrugged. “Well, I know a few things now. Like that the Seattle police don’t know jack shit about tracking down trolls, so your bunch of feminist hackers are helping me figure out who the really dangerous ones are. I just hope they find something soon. Oh, I have a 2.5-star review average on my game, with over five hundred reviews, and the game still isn’t out yet.”
Jane said, “Yikes. That’s terrible.” She topped off my champagne glass.
“It’s gone up from 1.5 stars last week. So there’s that.”
Candace asked, “Can I help with anything? I could do the publicity for your game. I’ll be on maternity leave soon and bored out of my mind. I could put a PR plan together!” She seemed to be back to her old, bubbly self. Maybe she needed a friend in crisis to distract her. Or maybe it really was hormones. If Candace could help with the media outreach for the launch, then this game might actually have a chance to succeed.
“Candace, you are brilliant. I’d love your help with PR. A million yeses! Thank you!” She gave me a side hug, and we toasted again.
Jane squealed, “We’re here!” as the limo slowly rolled up to the Saturn Club.
The line of patrons wrapped around the block, fully encircling the building. Jane walked right up to the bouncer, and within nanoseconds he unhooked the velvet rope and waved us through. I had to give her credit, Jane had her shit together. And that made my life easier as maid of honor.
The hostess just inside the front entrance tapped around on her iPad to look up our reservation. She walked us over to a set of tables with Reserved signs. “You can pick any open table here. The minimum table purchase is five hundred. Is it just you three?” She handed us a menu listing bottle prices of whiskey, scotch, tequila, and their own signature Intergalactic Punch made with absinthe, pineapple juice, ginger, and lime. The other tables were occupied with investment banker and corporate lawyer bro types. Our adjacent male compadres ogled as we settled into our table. Jane loved the attention and even winked at a few admirers.
I rolled my eyes. “Ugh, this place reminds me of those Korean nightclubs where the men get table service and leer at female patrons, and then ask for the pretty ones to be escorted to their table.”
Jane waved down the petite Asian waitress and asked for a bottle of Grey Goose. When she left with our order, Jane motioned for us to lean in so we could hear her. “One of my firm’s partners owns this club. He’s done a lot of business in Korea and really liked the nightlife there. So yeah, this place is modeled after those ‘booking’ clubs in Seoul.”
The table made a whirring sound as our vodka ascended to the center section, along with shot glasses and mixers. Jane and I poured ourselves two shots each and tossed them both back.
“Let’s go dance!” Jane grabbed my hand, and I pulled Candace off her seat to come, too. With surprising steadiness, Jane scampered down the stairs and led us through the crowd. I glanced back to see if anyone had stolen the $300 bottle of Grey Goose we left on the table.
“Nice tiara!” a handsome (but barely my height) guy yelled out to Jane. She gave him a dazzling smile and kept moving toward the main dance area. Candace’s belly whacked into people when she turned left or right.
Jane and I stood on our tippy-toes to