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Threequarters ofanhourlater, shewasstanding outsidethewinebar,Jen’sarmshookedthrough hers.Jenhaddecided onanoutfitthatwasalotlessscandalousthantheonesshehadshownGigi. Herblondehairwasflowingdownherbackinsoftwaves,softeningherfaceandthestrong,bold eye make-upshewaswearing.Gigi,onthe otherhand,hadherhairinahighponytailwith verylittle make-up onexceptfor somemascarato help her green eyes pop.
“Areyouready?”Jenasked.
“I’vealreadycomethisfar,”shereplied,letting herroommatelead her inside.
Thelightingwasmoody,thewallsblood-red.Allthefurniturewasleatherandrich,andher immediatethoughts were that this was notaplaceshewould evercomewithoutJen’s coercion.
Jendraggedherinthedirectionofthebarandpickedupawinelist.Gigilookedoverit,not recognizing onewineryorvariety.
“Whatbottledoyouwanttotry?”
Gigi’s eyes bulgedwhenshesawthepriceperbottle.“Let’s juststicktodrinks bytheglass.”
Jengrinned.“Goodthinking.Wecantrymorewinethatway.”
Thebartendercouldn’ttakehis eyesoffJenashepouredtwoglassesofaredwine.Herroommatethenslidhercreditcardacross thepolished bar top.
“Thisround’son me,”thebartendersaid,handingbackhercardwithoutswipingitthroughthe machine.
“Thanks. When’s your break?”Jenasked,smiling athimand pushing her card backinto her bra.
“Atten.”
Her smilewidened.“I’m Jen.”
“Ben.”
Theyshookhands.
“I’llcomefindyouatten,”shereplied,givinghima winkasshetookbothglasses, handing one to Gigi.
“You werespeaking tohimfor allof fiveminutes,”Gigisaid,taking her firstsip ofwine.
“That’sall ittakes,Borello.Men takeonelookatmethen fall allover themselves to speak to me.”
Gigirolledhereyesather roommate thensatdownatoneofthetables.“So,when doyou startwork?”
Jenhadbeenworkingatapopularnightclubintownupuntilaweekago.Thankstoherboss being a douchebag,Jen had applied ata newclub thatwasopening up, called Temptation.
“Theclubopensintwodays,”Jenreplied.“It’sgoingtobesonicenothavingtoworrywhethermy bossisgoingtotrysomethingeverynightafterclosingup…unlessmynewbosshappenstobe smoking hot,”sheaddedwith a devioussmile. “Then I’d considerit.”
“You’reunbelievable,”Gigimuttered,takinganothersipfromherglass.Shelookedoutatthe young professionals mingling and enjoying adrinktogether.Theywerealldressed so well,and she wonderedwhatkindofworktheywerein.Shecouldn’twaittoactuallyhaveajob.Onceshe finishedstudying,shehopedtohaveoneinthefieldofanthropology,althoughshewas morethan prepared toworkin anyother job until anopportunitycameup.
“Gigi,thatguyatthebarisstaringatyou,”Jensaid,jerkingherheadinthedirectionofa man who was dressed immaculately. Shelethereyesperusehisbody,andshehadtoadmitthatsheliked whatshesaw—notthatshewas going todoanything aboutit;shewastragicallyshyaroundmen.
“You should goand talkto him.”
Sheshookherhead.“No. Ishouldn’t. I’m notlikeyou,Jen.”
“Whatdoyou mean,you’renotlike me?”her friendsaid inresponse,herwords clipped.
“ImeanIcan’tjustflirtandtalktoaguyandget hisnumberwithinthesametimeittakes someonetotietheir shoelace.”
Jen grinned. “I amprettygood,huh?”
“So,I’mnotgoingtogoandspeaktohim.I’mgoing tosithereanddrinkmyglassofwineand mind myown business.”She studied her hands,looking attheshort,unmanicured tips.
