Episode 3- Drink and Dance

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As soon as I walked inside the neon pink glowing club my eyes scanned the whole room for Chase. I told myself I was looking for Gina, but I couldn't trick my brain. I might have been able to keep myself from calling that old phone number, but he was here—if Chase was in the flesh, standing in front of me—I couldn't resist him.

The club was almost like a second home to me when I first turned twenty-one. It wasn't like I considered myself a party girl, but it belonged to Gina's father. Free drinks and a security staff that would toss anyone who dared to make us uncomfortable were too appealing to pass up.

With her dad's money and family name, Gina controlled the social scene in town. If she said to go to a party, people went to the party. All it took was one well-placed social media post.

The birthday party was already packed with three or four hundred of Gina's closest friends. I could hardly make out the silver bar lining the walls between all the swaying bodies and bunches of balloons. The whole club was modernly themed with reflective silver material covering every surface from the dance floor to the bar stools, sleek lines, and sharp angles. It always made me feel like I was walking into the future.

The space-age theme probably wouldn't last long, though. Just last year the theme was the beach and everything had a tiki hut feel to it. Like always though, Gina grew tired of it and had her dad change everything, which was why it could only be called The Club. Most people thought the theme changes were to keep relevant in the crowded South Side competition, but it was just to keep up with Gina's whims.

I took a deep breath and willed myself to enjoy the fabulous party, but it did little to calm my nerves.

I needed to relax. I easily could've asked Gina for more information about Chase, but I had to be tough with myself when it came to him. Taking an inch was even far too much. It took all the effort I could muster just to ask if he really was back. And even with that small amount of information, my mind wouldn't stop running with it.

He asked about me, I reminded myself. He wants to see me.

I thought that maybe that meant—


I had learned early in life how dangerous it could be to want for things so badly, something I attributed to my mom. "All will be provided for," I could practically hear my mama say. And wanting some guy wasn't a top priority. She actually didn't want me to end up with any man. Well, not unless you counted God.

Naja had high hopes that I would become a nun, or at least follow in her footsteps and be a missionary. Neither of those options appealed to me but there was no way I'd ever become a nun. The word said it all—none. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

I needed at least some.

But, of course, I couldn't divulge that information to Mama. I was never too old for her to take a switch to my behind, she'd often remind me.

I shook thoughts of my mom from my mind and tried to focus on the here and now.

Because of Gina's strictly enforced pink dress code and the fact that Brody was out of the country and I wasn't concerned with what he'd think, I was wearing a body-hugging pink dress with gold trim. That combined Gina's two favorite colors.

Admittedly, if Brody were here, I wouldn't have worn the dress. It wasn't that Brody told me what to wear, I wasn't the kind of woman who would tolerate that, but he had such a polished reputation. I never wanted to be viewed as the loose, trashy date on his arm and my curves had a way of making even the most conservative frocks look downright scandalous.

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