His Games, Her Rules

“This is the venue?” I ask Monique, looking out the tinted window of her Maserati.

“Yup. Doesn’t look like it, right?” She asks as she unfastens her seatbelt. “The real shit happens at the top. Come on.” She tilts her head to the left as she unlocks the door.

I expel a breath as I open my side door and step outside. I shut the door after me as I try to balance my clutch under my armpit while pulling down my bodycon dress. Tonight I made sure not to over-dress. I’m wearing a red corset dress, with a Vneck and a spaghetti strap, with matching white heels and a white clutch. Monique wears a strapless dark blue sequin dress that stops mid-thigh. Her black heels are with straps that are perfectly wrapped around her toned legs, matched with a black bag. Her braids are securely wrapped in a perfect bun.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

Damn, she looks really pretty.

We walk into the lobby side by side as we head to the elevator.

“Are you nervous?” Monique asks as we ride the elevator.

“I’m not.” And that’s the truth.

I’m familiar with parties like this, all thanks to my parents.

“Great.”

“Are you gonna get drunk?”

“Probably.” Monique winks at me.

“Meaning you’re planning on getting some tonight.”

“God, you’re smart. You should too.”

“We’ve been over this topic, Monique. I don’t want a man.”

“And I get it. Trust me.”

I turn to look at her. “You do? That’s a first.” I say as I turn to look at my reflection on the elevator wall.

Monique rolls her eyes at me. “I just mean you should let off some steam tonight. Just tonight. No regrets.”

“Please don’t tell me this is like a sex party.”

“It’s not. But rich people are capable of anything.” Monique says with a grin as the elevator opens and we step into a well-lit space.

This place looks like a club but with fewer lights and colors. There are no strip poles, so definitely it’s not a strip club. There’s a bar at the corner with a counter and barstools where you can sit and order different alcoholic beverages. There are a few couches scattered around with wealthy men and women already occupying them as they talk and laugh.

There’s a stage and Lora Reign, the RNB pop star, mounts it as she sings into a mic. She looks better than the last time I saw her. Dad brought her to Italy six years ago, during my parents’ wedding anniversary.

“This place is lit,” I mutter.

“Right?” Monique giggles.

“You’re a child.” I smile at her.

She nudges my side. “I’m just glad you like it.”

“Monique Palmer.” A female voice calls as we turn to the source of the voice.

It’s a woman, a blonde, actually, dressed in a red floor-length dress with almost half her cleavage popPINg out. She’s hot. And I feel like she tried too much.

“Lenore, hi.” The woman wraps her arms around Monique for a brief embrace before they pull apart. She gives Monique a quick once over and smiles.

“You look stunning. I’m glad Margot invited you tonight. I’m sorry I didn’t invite you myself.”

Monique waves her off. “It’s okay.”

The woman turns to look at me, trying to picture me if I belong here or not. I get it, most of the people here are models, actresses, actors, popular and wealthy businessmen and women and I don’t fit into any of the categories.

“This is my best friend, Robyn. My plus one.”

“Right. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Lenore.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” She gives me a fake smile. What a bitch.

“Have fun.” Lenore waves at Monique and walks away.

“What a phony,” I mutter.

“Yeah, I fucking hate that bitch.” Monique says as she expels her breath. “You wanna go grab a drink?”

“Yeah,” I say as we walk toward the bar.

“How did you two know each other?”

“We work for the same company. Shawty thinks we’re in a competition or some shit.”

“Damn. That must be hard for you.”

“It’s not. I just have to avoid her and pretend like she doesn’t even exist. It works well.” Monique says as we both occupy the vacant barstools.

“What are you getting?” I ask Monique, going through the drink menu.

“A Negroni.”

“Great. I’m going with Sex On the Beach. I can’t remember the last time I ever got drunk. I’ve been working my ass off.”

“Last week.”

I turn to look at Monique. “What?”

“You said you can’t remember the last time you got drunk. So I said last week. We got drunk last week.”

I chuckle. “You’re a bitch.”

Monique chuckles as she smiles. “And about working your ass off, you need to wind down a little. If you don’t get to secure a spot as a registered nurse at St. Jose, you could always work someplace else.”

“It’s not easy. I mean it’s easy but I just love working there.”

“What are you scared of? You’re good. You’re good with the patients and people love you.”

“You mean the men love me. The women think I’m a phony. They think I do too much.”

“They just jealous. You’re pretty, you’re hardworking, you’re easily likable, so they scared. So they go about talking shit just because they are scared of you, sweetheart.” Monique says as she smiles at me. “So I want you to wind down a little. You’re stressing yourself too much.”

“Thanks. Where’s the bartender anyway?”

Monique waves at one of the bartenders as he approaches us.

“Ready to order?” He asks, eyeing me for a quick second before turning to look at Monique.

“Yeah. One Negroni and One Sex On The Beach. Thank you.” Monique says to the bartender. He nods, eyes me for another second as he walks away to prepare our drinks.

“Did you see that? The bartender was just eyefucking you.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Of course, he was. He looked like he wanted to rip your clothes off and eat you. Well, I’ve noticed a few men throw glances at you. You look hot.”

I glare at Monique. She smiles and giggles.

“I’m not interested. I’m not ‘getting some’ tonight.”

“Your loss. There are a lot of hot men tonight. I’ve seen a few.”

“I wish you luck.”

The bartender comes back with our drinks and places them in front of us, once again staring at me longer than I’d want.

“Is there something on my face?” I ask the bartender, grabbing my glass of drink and bringing it to my lips while maintaining eye contact with the bartender.

He fakes a cough and asks, “What?”

“I said, is there something on my face? You’ve been staring.”

The bartender blushes as he rubs his nape. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just… you look really beautiful.”

I raise my eyebrows and flash him a small smile. “Thanks.” I pull out my credit card from my purse and give it to him. “For our drinks.”

“Oh, sure.” He nods once and walks away, looking disappointed.

“You just hurt his feelings.”

“Well, fuck you very much,” I say as Monique chuckles, grabbing her drink and taking a sip.

“I’m gonna be right back. I just sighted someone.” Monique says and stands up. She grabs her glass of drink and scurries away.

I watch her walk toward a man and a woman who looks like they’re having a friendly chat. The man is definitely trying to coerce the woman into his bed.

“Your PIN, ma’am.” A voice says as I turn around. It’s the bartender, stretching the POS machine at me.

I input my PIN as he processes my payment and hands me my card.

“Thank you.” I give him a small smile as he nods and walks away.

I roll my eyes, opening my purse to toss my debit card in. I take several sips from my drink as I scan the room filled with wealthy people. This party brings back memories, memories I don’t want to remember.

My eyes fall on a familiar face as I nearly choke on my drink.

It can’t be.

I stare harder, trying to lie to myself that there’s no way the universe can make us meet again after I hit his car. But, fuck no. The universe has other plans because he raises his head and our eyes lock for a long second, recognition embracing his facials.

Fuck. It’s him. It’s definitely him.

Just when I thought I was going to have a normal life, I hit a rich man’s car and ran away and then I had to run into him at a celebrity’s party.

Aren’t I the luckiest girl in the world?