Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
I’ll need to Google top-notch sex ideas, so if Luna ever questions me again, I can at least play in the same ballpark as her.
After a deep breath, I head to my station, making sure everything is all set for tonight. Before long, the music gets turned up and people spill through the doors, making me busier than I’ve ever been in the club.
I work my tables, ringing in drink orders and delivering them. Rinse and repeat. Until a hand yanks me by the arm into the hallway by the women’s restroom.
“Chloe, please don’t be mad at me for being here.”
Oh, my god. My mouth falls open at Ashley, dressed in a red bralette and a black miniskirt. And I’m talking micro. It barely covers her lady bits.
“What are you doing here, Ashley? No, ew, don’t answer that.”
My sister’s eyes rake over my revealing red dress and the small black apron tied around my waist. “I thought I could help you with your assignment.”
“You can’t. You should leave. How did you even get in here?”
She purses her lips. “Well, um…” Her words fall away and I grow angrier.
“I can’t have my big sister helping me with my job.” I can’t believe this.
I’m so mad at her.
“Let me explain,” she places a hand on my arm. “I didn’t come here to help you. I actually came here with a guy who’s a member. He wanted to bring me, so he had me vetted, and well…” She glances down at her outfit.
“Ash, you can’t be serious.”
“I really like him.”
I glance around the club. “Who? Who are you here with?”
“Just a friend.”
Is it someone who knows me? How much of my job has she told him?
“Ashley, this is serious. Like life and death serious. No one can know I’m undercover here.”
She leans closer, holding her hands together like she’s praying. “Please don’t tell Mom. Derek, a guy from my work, brought me here to play in a group room.”
“Did you tell him anything about me?”
She widens her eyes and shakes her head. “No. Nothing. He doesn’t even know I have a sister.”
I breathe a small sigh of relief, but my mind is still reeling at her being here, her possibly screwing up my whole investigation.
“You need to leave,” I tell her.
She scoffs. “I’m not leaving. Listen, I can be a good detective too. Besides, I really like this guy.”
“Doesn’t matter. Everything about you being here can cost me my job. I know I never should have told you anything.”
She looks offended by my words.
Good.
“I promise you, Chloe. I won’t say anything. I’m going to just party a little with him.”
“Gross.” But then an idea hits me. If Ashley will be in one of the VIP rooms, then I want all the specifics about it. “I won’t kick you out of here.” Which, let's be honest, that would raise more questions if I kicked her out, but she doesn’t need to know that. “But you have to do something for me.”
She stares at me like I just saved her life. “Anything.”
“I want to know everything that happens in that room tonight. I want to know who all the people are too. So get names.”
She nods and presses a finger to her lip. “Well, you want to know everything?”
“Ew, gross. No, I guess not everything.”
My face scrunches with disgust. I can’t think about my sister having sex. Ever. “Oh, Ash—”
She cuts in, “Don’t judge me.”
“I will not judge you.” I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one is near. “I need your help.”
“With what?”
“I can’t say here. I’ll come by your house tomorrow at four, before my shift.”
And then I scurry away so I don’t blow my cover.
Chapter 12
Chloe
* * *
Ashley’s three-story colonial, with its large, covered porch and charming wood shutters, does not look like the home of someone rendezvousing at a sex club with her co-worker. But if she hadn’t gotten the house at a steal, she may have chosen something different.
“Late night?” I ask when she opens the front door, looking a little worse for wear. “Never mind, don’t answer that.” I don’t want any knowledge about what Ashley and Derek were doing all night.
She gives me a sheepish grin as I step inside the foyer. “I haven’t had my coffee yet.” She trudges toward the kitchen, and I follow. “Want some?”
“Sure.”
She reaches into the cabinet and pulls out two red mugs with the words Everything I Touch Turns To Sold written in gold letters across the ceramic and busies herself with making coffee. As we wait for it to percolate, I take out my notepad.
“Ashley, I need you to be brutally honest with me while I ask you a few questions.”
Her eyes pop open, the tiredness that was there only moments ago completely evaporating. “I don’t want my name on anything. I don’t want anyone knowing I was ever there.”