CHAPTER SIX

I look up at the club's sign. It looks less glamorous in broad daylight. 

I'm taking a big, fat guess coming here. 

How do you get a hold of someone you've only met twice, and whose number you clearly don't have?

The only thing I could think of was coming to The Phoenix. I know he owns the club and he was probably the reason why we were invited to the VIP area. 

And I know for a fact he's interested in me. Not the way I'm interested in him, I'm sure, but interested nonetheless. He wouldn't have followed me if he wasn't. 

I'm skipping my shift at work to come here, I lied to Sammy and told her I had an appointment with my academic advisor. I really hate that I had to lie to her. 

There's soft music playing inside the club and it seems like the staff are busy preparing for an undoubtedly busy evening. The floors are being wiped and people are walking around with crates of alcohol. 

I spot the bartender who served us the first night polishing glasses and decide to approach him. 

"Hey," I say and he looks me up and down with interest. 

I'm not really dressed to impressed. I'm wearing jeans, a university hoodie, and sneakers, my custom outfit. I don't have the time, energy and money to care about what I look like. 

Wait, I actually do have the money. 

And that's the reason why I'm here. 

"Looking for someone?" The bartender smiles. 

He's a cute guy with moppy blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and a crooked smile. 

Girls must be falling over their feet for the guy, yet I feel nothing when I look at him. Not even a tiny skip in the beat of my heart. 

Nada. 

Zilch.  

So I haven't changed. I still don't feel anything when it comes to the opposite sex. 

I just feel something when it comes to the boss of this fine establishment. 

"I was hoping I could speak to the manager please." 

"Why, are you looking for a job?" He asks flirtatiously. 

Yeah, I still feel nothing. 

"I already have a job, thanks." I refrain from rolling my eyes at the idiot. 

"You know, I can put in a good word for you." He rambles on. "The salary is decent for a club and the tips we make are insane. Plus, rumor has it that there's gonna be a reality show based on the people who work here. Imagine the clout you can get from that." 

"Still not interested, thanks." 

"I know they're looking for new dancers, you look like you have the body for that sort of thing." 

Does this boy ever shut up? 

"You running your mouth again, Brady?" I hear a familiar voice behind me and I turn around to see the same guy that started to talk to me the night we were here on my birthday. 

"Just trying to convince the beautiful young lady here to come work for us, boss man." Brady smiles that crooked smile that probably leaves girls breathless. 

"Is that so?" The guy stops in front of me and holds his hand out. "And so we officially meet. I'm Trey Barker." 

I don't want to be rude, so I shake his hand. "Farrah." 

Amusement dances in his eyes. "Are you looking for a job, then?" 

"No thanks." Again I refrain from giving the guy an eye-roll. "Just like I told Mr. Brady here already."

"Oh, so how can I help you then." His smile is as blinding as it was when I met him.  

"I'm looking for someone." 

He nods in understanding. "Please follow me." 

I follow him up the stairs that leads to the VIP area. There's no one up here and he heads behind the bar. 

"Would you like anything to drink? I can make a mean martini." 

"Isn't it like three in the afternoon?" I ask. 

The place is spotless and every bit as luxurious as I remember. 

"It's wine 'o clock somewhere, isn't it?" He chuckles.  

"I'm fine thanks." I shake my head. "Listen, I didn't come here for a chat, I'm looking for Mr. Moretti." 

"Ooh, is he in trouble?" 

This one is mischievous, that's for sure. 

I narrow my eyes at him. "Tell him I'm looking for him and that it's urgent, I'm sure he'll know where to find me." 

His laugh follows me as I leave. Is everyone in this place so infuriating?

I decide to ditch the supermarket completely today. Way out of character for me, maybe I should have taken Trey up on his martini offer. 

And I'm sure he's Alessandro's friend and not just an employee, otherwise, he wouldn't have been so playful. 

How do I know? 

Because Moretti exudes power and he doesn't give off the impression that he allows people to play with him. Maybe he's different with his friends. Less intense. 

I feel bad for skipping work, Sammy only gets off at ten and then she's going to have to walk home by herself. I send her a quick text with instructions to take a cab. 

I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling for what feels like hours. 

Should I accept the money from whoever sent it and use it? Maybe take fewer shifts at the supermarket, so I don't always feel so burned out? Or should I just leave it there until I find out who sent it?

There's a knock on the door and I sit up quickly. 

We never have any visitors, Phoebe being our first and only. We don't bother making friends with anyone else on campus. 

I look through the peephole and frown when I see it's our landlord, Jerry. The last time I saw the guy was when we first moved in. 

"Hi, Jerry." I greet as I open the door. "Can I help you with something?" 

"Yeah!" Jerry looks a bit like a cartoon character, he's shorter than me with thinning hair and a round belly, and he talks with lots and lots of energy. "Girl, we have a problem!" 

I raise my eyebrows at him. "What kind of problem?" 

"Rats!" He exclaims with a throw of his hand. "The place is infiltrated by rats and we have to evacuate!" 

I look around our small apartment and then back at Jerry. Did this guy smoke something or what? Apart from the occasional cockroach that Sammy diligently gets rid of, I have not seen anything that even resembles a rat. Not even a teeny, tiny mouse.  

"There aren't any rats here." I shake my head at him. 

"They're all downstairs and they're making their way up, you have to leave!" 

I look at Jerry in shock, I'm sure my mouth is even hanging open. "Where the hell do you think we should go!" 

"Don't you worry! Jerry always sorts his people out!" He hands me a set of keys and I reluctantly take it. "I will send you the address of the new place, please take all your personal belongings. You have to be out by tomorrow night. " 

"How long will we have to stay there?" I'm getting a little upset now. We haven't even seen this other place, and no offense, but this apartment is as small as a cupboard. How big will the other one be? 

"Until I tell you to come back." He smiles at me and I must say that it's very hard to stay mad at the guy. "Remember, out by tomorrow night, you don't have to take your furniture, but take everything else!" 

With that he turns around and leaves, leaving me flabbergasted.