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“I’ve checked with all the bars and most of the waitresses and bussers. I even asked the kitchen if they needed help. Everyone is covered, and I’m bored. Anything you need me to do?”
Sloane settled back in her chair and scanned her desk. “I was starting the schedule for next month. That’s how bored I am. It’s always quieter when Trey and Rogue are out.”
“Did they mention where they were going?”
Sloane cocked her brow. “They never tell me.”
Me neither. Dahlia had asked, but Trey’s vague answer of simply “a meeting” left little room to ask questions.
Dahlia sighed, rolling her neck. “Should I leave early? I mean, it doesn’t make much sense to pay me for literally doing nothing.”
Sloane perked up, glanced down at the bottom drawer, then looked over at Dahlia with a wide grin.
Dahlia raised her brows. “What?”
“What if I offered you an alternative to just going home? Maybe you and I can go somewhere and hang out and have a drink.”
I’m game!
“The clubhouse?”
Sloane flattened her lips and scrunched her nose. “I was thinking of somewhere we haven’t been before.”
“Okay. Like where?”
Sloane shrugged, trying to play if off, but Dahlia suspected Sloane knew exactly where she wanted to go.
“How about the X-Lounge?”
The X-Lounge was the only club in the city that rivaled the Bowery. She’d never been and hadn’t had any intentions. From what she’d heard, it was a little more upscale than Trey’s club, and much more expensive. It was also virtually impossible to get in.
Dahlia widened her eyes. “What? You think Blade would be okay with you going to the club?”
It may as well have been a rhetorical question because Dahlia was well aware Sloane’s man Blade would never condone her going to any club without him.
“I wasn’t going to tell him.”
Dahlia gasped and chuckled. “Sloane!”
“What? He’s on a run right now, and I have no idea where he is. Why do I always have to account for my whereabouts, but he doesn’t? East has their reasons, and I completely respect that. And I have my own for not wanting to be tracked every move I make. This is very similar.”
Dahlia laughed. “This isn’t even close to that, and you know it.”
“C’mon, Dahlia,” Sloane pleaded, leaning on the desk. “Aren’t you curious about what the competition club looks like? Some of the waitresses have gone, and they said it’s amazing. And they just added a VIP lounge in the back. Plus, isn’t it your job to keep fresh with new drinks and ideas for the bar? This could be like a research field trip.”
Oh, Sloane! She was laying it on thick, and Dahlia totally appreciated her passion. It was rare that Sloane did anything without full dedication and a strong conviction. However, going to a nightclub usually didn’t involve much convincing. Dahlia was all in, but there was one obstacle that stood in their way.
“We’ll never get in.”
Sloane reached into her drawer, pulled out the passes, and held them up. “We will with these.”
Dahlia squinted, focusing in on the small, laminated squares that resembled a business card. She couldn’t read the fine print, but they appeared to be some type of admission with the X-Lounge logo prominent in the corner.
Sloane smiled, waving the cards in her hand. “They’re usually reserved for VIPs who come to the club and spend a ridiculous amount of money. But Trey gives a few out a year as an incentive program for the staff. But not until your probation is over, and I don’t qualify because I’m management. That’s not fair, right?”
“So let me get this straight. You—” Dahlia pointed. “—Sloane, by the books, law-abiding, rule-keeping Baxter, are suggesting we steal passes from our job, leave early from our shifts, to go to a club that I’m sure your man would be pissed to high hell knowing you went? Did I get everything?”
Sloane shoulders sagged, and she gave a small pout. “When you say it like that, it sounds like a horrible idea.”
