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“Oh just spit it out, Elle,” I snap. “Tactful has never been your strong suit.”
“Oh, says Miss Diplomacy over there,” she chuffs.
I laugh and throw her fancy silk travel pillow at her.Silk.She catches it and sticks her tongue out at me, putting it on the pile of things to pack in her hand luggage bag, which matches hertrio of cases. Who the hell needs a trio of matching Louis Vuitton luggage for a fortnight inScotlandof all places?
Though I guess it’s a damn sight colder up there than it is down here on the south coast. Which reminds me, I need to get a coat. I really could do with getting paid soon.
“You’re not even listening to me are you, brat?”
“Hey! I resent that nickname,” I protest snapping out of my ping-ponging thoughts.
“Really. What was I just saying?”
“Don’t burn the flat down while you’re away.”
“Not even close. But also, I thought that went without saying.”
“No gangbangs, orgies, sex parties of any kind, and don’t turn the place into a crack den?”
“Again. Goes without saying.”
“Oh fine. I give up. What were you saying?”
“I was asking about the new job. The hours are long. Too long even for a nightclub. What did you say it was again?”
I sigh. There’s honestly no point in trying to hide anything from Elle. She’s probably already googled the hell out of the place and knows more about it than I do.
“It’s a sex club. A pop-up, underground, Christmas themed sex club.ButI amjusta waitress. I stay behind the bar, serve water to girls in flashing Christmas tree nipple tassels and guys in assless chaps. That is all.”
“You know ‘assless chaps’ is a tautology, right?”
“A what?”
“Tautology. It’s when you say the same thing twice in different words. Like ‘let’s return back to that later’ you don’t need to say ’back to’ because that’s what return means.”
“I think you’re missing my point,” I reply dryly.
“And I think you’re missing mine. How safe is this place? I worry about you. I looked the club up – cute name by the way– and it’s in a really dodgy part of town. Like, Mafia territory, I think. How are you getting home? I don’t like the idea of you walking all that way to the bus stop.”
“You even checked out the bus route?” I shake my head. I’m not surprised. Elle’s sleuthing skills could rival the most renowned PI. I sigh. “I got a taxi home last night.”
“And before that?”
“One of the workers there gave me a lift back.”
“The guy with the motorcycle that you had sex with?”
“How did you—never mind. It’s safe. I’m fine. It pays well.”
“Then why do you still not have a coat, and why are you trying to sneak my sweater back out of my case?”
“Because it’s cashmere and it’s like cuddling a koala! You don’t need fourteen jumpers for two weeks away.”
“One for each day. I do.”
“The world won’t burn down if you wear an item of clothing more than once. Besides, you can’t tell me that fancy castle your dad’s hired doesn’t have a laundry room.”
“It’s cashmere! I’m not laundering it.”
