Abbie chewed her lip. That explained a lot.
Sophie shrugged and continued, “You know, he’s a bit of a hustler.”
“Oh, okay.” That was a little vague. But shit, he wasn’t her man, so she wouldn’t complain as long as Sophie was happy.
Although her overactive imagination kept picturing the beautiful living room tossed and destroyed because of a drug raid. In her mind’s eye she could just see the collaged photo, half as it was now and half as it would be after the raid with the mysterious Max sitting in the center of it all. Though somehow as Abbie pictured Max, she interchanged him with the knight in shining armor who’d just saved her life.
Sophie shrugged. “You can call him a bit of an entrepreneur.”
Right. “Well, this place is amazing.”
“Thanks. We like it.”
They heard the front door open downstairs, and Sophie grinned. “That’ll be him now.”
Abbie turned toward the heavy footsteps and stared.
“You must be Abbie. I'm Max.”
Abbie did her best to drag her eyes away from the tall specimen of man that strolled up the stairs from the kitchen with a confident swagger. His dirty blond hair dusted his collar and drifted into his face in thick layers. Wow. She knew women who would kill for hair like that.
His green eyes were lively and mischievous and framed by thick lashes. A strong angular jaw and high cheekbones completed the beautiful picture. The only thing that took away from the image of perfection was the bump on the bridge of his nose, but it made him more mysterious. “Nice to meet you.”
Instead of taking her proffered hand, he enveloped her in a hug that stunned her for a second. Great, another hugger. As quick as it flared, she batted down the irrational fear. She’d really have to remind Sophie that she didn’t like to be touched.
He pressed a quick peck to both of her cheeks. “Welcome to London. You're all Sophie’s talked about.”
“Thank you. I’m excited to be here.”
Max pulled Sophie against his side as he asked, “You’re coming out with us tonight, right?”
Abbie glanced at Sophie for a little help. “What’s happening tonight?”
“Jasper’s DJing. You have to come. You can meet Lex and the rest of the gang. Say you’ll come,” Sophie pleaded.
Abbie hedged. She wanted to get started on some photos and explore a little. But it was also her first night out in London. And it wasn’t like she was set up for night shots yet, anyway. She was still waiting on her sister to ship some of her equipment. “Not too late, right? I have work I need to start on in the morning.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “You were always so studious. Sure fine. But we're not taking no for an answer.”
When was the last time she'd gone out on a school night? When was the last time she'd been spontaneous? She couldn’t remember. She'd locked herself in so tight she'd forgotten to breathe and have a little fun.
Thanks to Evan.
She slammed that thought away into a lock box. It was time to embrace her new life and the new her. The new her who went out on a school night. “Okay, but what the hell am I going to wear?”
52
Apparently, Abbie had never been clubbing properly.
She and the girls had headed out with Max and some of the other models to the swank Mayfair neighborhood with its elegant row houses and gorgeous parks. The club had a name Abbie couldn’t pronounce and a line out the door that wrapped around the block. And that was the line for women.
Staring mulishly at her borrowed heels, she'd wondered why the hell she’d let Sophie dress her. There was no way she could endure that line in the four-inch stunners. They were beautiful with their red, black, and gold-braided straps, but she’d be ready to cut her feet off at the ankle before she even made it midway through the line.
Then again, when your friend was an up and coming designer, you let her do things like dress you, even at the cost of your comfort. With the flirty red salsa dress Abbie knew she looked hot. Especially since the damn thing was backless. But the shoes were going to be a problem. Abbie could just picture it. There would be Instagram photos of her running around a London club barefooted, a la Brittney Spears pre-conservatorship. She shuddered.
As it turned out, she needn’t have worried about the line. Apparently, since Jasper was the headliner, and Max and one of the other guys were members of the club, all seven of them walked right in as if they owned the place. This kind of clubbing Abbie could get used to.
Inside, the club was mostly empty. As if the throngs waiting outside had been nothing but an illusion. She leaned over to Sophie. “If there's no one in here, why the hell do they have everyone waiting outside?”
Sophie laughed. “Image, darling. Only about a quarter of those people will get in because they have the cash to bribe the bouncers. And don’t forget most of those people are for the larger club. This area is more exclusive and private.”
“But what's the point? Wouldn’t they make more money if they just let everyone in?”
Tamsin and Sophie smiled at her like she was the village idiot. Finally Tamsin said, “Honey, this club has members that pay a pretty penny to keep the riff raff out. Besides, it's a hot spot for OK magazine darlings and the Royals. The princes have partied here, so have the princesses and lesser aristocracy. Princess Alicia was spotted here last week. You can’t let the general public in with them. It would be pandemonium.”
Abbie blinked. “And Jasper’s DJing here? He must be really good.”
Sophie shrugged. “He is. He creates beats for some local UK artists too. He’s starting to get big.” Her friend assessed her shrewdly. “You’re starting to pay more attention to him now, huh?”
A quick laugh burst out of Abbie’s lungs. “No. He’s lovely, but I don’t buy the flirtation for a minute. I won’t be spending any time in his, erm, DJ booth.”
Sophie cackled. “Don’t let him hear you say that. You’ll only become even more of a challenge.”
“Oh, fantastic.”
Tamsin joined them with three shots in her hands. “Okay, ladies, drink up. These are courtesy of Max and the boys at the bar.”
Abbie stared at the purple liquid. “What is this?”
Both of them laughed, and Tamsin just said, “I don’t think you want to know.” Raising her glass to the two of them, she added, “To Abbie. Welcome to London. And to the three of us, together again!”
“To us,” Abbie muttered before tossing back the violet liquid. Surprisingly, it went down smooth and tasted remarkably like grape juice. It wasn’t until several seconds later that a warming sensation started in her belly, then slowly spread to her extremities, making her instantly relaxed and a little numb. “Jesus, Tams, what was that?”
“They call it a Post Orgasm. Makes you feel loose, huh?”
“Loose is one word for it.” Abbie couldn’t feel her fingertips.
Sophie grabbed the glasses and deposited them with a barback who moved through the crowd. “Come on, girls, it’s time to dance.”
Now dancing, she could do.
As they hit the center of the dance floor closest to the DJ booth, Abbie closed her eyes and let the music take over her limbs. Jasper mixed some unfamiliar drum and base beats along with some mild electronica and infused them into dancehall, rock, and popular rap songs.