The Club Read Online Free PDF Page B

sort of like this game of masked crusader.
     

Chapter Four
     
    The lights in
my room are killing my eyes as I peek through my lashes and wince at the sun
blaring through the cracks in the blinds.
    I sit up fast,
looking down.
    How did I get
home?
    Memories start
drifting back in. Memories of me begging for sex and a beautiful man driving me
home.
    What was I
thinking? What was wrong with me?
    Holy mother of
God, I kissed a girl and sucked on her breasts.
    What the fuck?
    I’m still in
the hideous mini dress and my underwear feel old and gross from being dry
humped on the couch. I need a shower and some holy water and a confessional.
    How could I
have let all of that happen? I didn't have sex in college.
    Last night was
a write-off, except for him. I cannot stop thinking about him. Part of me is
ashamed for every moment, but the other part is giving myself a high
five—in the vagina.
    I get out of
bed, fighting the headache and stomachache lingering inside of me, to get to
the shower. I don't dare look at myself in the mirror. I skip makeup, tie my
hair into a bun, and pull on the comfiest suit I own.
    The elevator
ride up to work is worse than the one down from my apartment. Waves of nausea
roll up and down my stomach, churning and gurgling from nerves and whatever else
is in my system.
    I almost run
into Brandon when the doors open to him standing, waiting for me. “Morning,
sunshine.” He smiles sweetly as if we are both having a grand fucking morning.
He hands me coffee and instantly turns on his heel, barking away about our
morning.
    “We have a
busy day. Are you ready to crush balls and dreams all at once?”
    I growl
earning me a wry grin. “Someone seems cheerful, did you have a rough night?” He
looks sideways, giving me a suspicious look when we walk to my office.
    “I had a fine
night and I AM cheerful today,” I sigh, sounding less than convincing.
    “What did you
do last night?” he asks, making me sigh. I don't answer, but just lean on my
desk, lost in a daydream of the mystery guy.
    “Hello?
Hannah?” Brandon waves his hand in my face. “What is going on with you today?
You better watch it, everyone is going to think you’re going soft.” He jokes
and hands me my messages. “Oh right, we have a meeting in ten minutes. Get
ready for it. Bring the bitch out for this one. Apparently, we are dealing with
some guy and his company. There are some people who think he’s an asshole. He
wanted a meeting with you today and he is a new client. Just called us the
other day and sent over some stuff he wants us to do.”
    I nod,
ignoring him. Clients aren’t hard to deal with. They‘re all the same. I look
back at Brandon, realizing he’s gone suddenly. I sigh again, staring out the
huge windows of my large office.
    Brandon pops
his head back into my office a few moments later. “Ready?” He purses his lips,
realizing I am not myself. “Have you been sitting here this entire time? Have
you gotten ready? Where’s your makeup?”
    I flinch. “So
which company is this?” I ask as he hands me my makeup bag. I open it up,
avoiding eye contact as I quickly apply a moderate amount of foundation,
powder, mascara, and gloss. Brandon applies the blush. He thinks by being gay
he has the ability to do makeup but it isn’t the case. He always adds too much.
“Brandon, what company is this?”
    “I believe a
little of everything. Last year they were doing some real estate
developing—they were the ones that wanted to expand the shoreline with
apartments last year. I showed you the papers yesterday,” he says quietly as we
walk arm and arm down the hallway.
    “I don't
remember. You’ve talked on the phone with them, right?”
    “Yes, they
were pushy for this meeting. I think you’ll need to get your bitch on. These
two are smooth talkers and everyone I know says they’re assholes.” He nods at
the room when we round the corner and can see both men in the boardroom. Both
are around my age or a bit