The Lover's Game (9 page)

“That’s probably open to interpretation,” I muttered under my breath.

“You wanted a new date. This is where you’ll find him,” Thalia added. “In your circumstances, you can’t be too fussy. You want to stop running back to your ex, right?”

I wanted to point out that
they
had
insisted
on finding me a date and that it had been all their idea, but there was no point in arguing.

“What’s the password?” one of the five bouncers asked. He was a big man with greased hair and the most menacing expression I had ever seen. I swallowed hard and looked at Gina, inwardly praying she wouldn’t remember.

“You’ll never see it coming, Lewis,” Gina said, unfazed, playing with her butterfly necklace. “Tonight I’ll hook up with a hairy guy with large feet and small hands, get his number, then call him next week to tell him he has to go in for STD tests.”

“That’s harsh.” To my surprise, the bouncer chuckled and, with a wink at Gina, he let us in for free.

“What was that?” I asked, confused, as we descended the stairs into what looked like a basement. “Was that the password?”

“There is no a password.” She looked at me and grimaced. “Lewis and I go way back. It’s just an inside joke we’ve had going on forever.”

I nodded knowingly, even though I had no idea what she was talking about.

Eventually, we reached a dark corridor and moved past black curtains into a crowded room with silver lights that sent a sharp pain through my eyes. I closed them for a moment, unable to suppress a shiver. Slowly, I opened my eyes again and let them adjust as I took in my surroundings.

“Oh, my god,” I exclaimed in horror.

The whole place was dark and hot, with no windows and no visible exits. Like the outside, the walls were painted a gloomy black. It was so hot and stuffy that I figured whoever owned the club must have installed heaters in the corners, probably to entice thirst so their clientele would buy more drinks. The walls looked shabby, and the whole place was in desperate need of some interior design. The tables and chairs were scratched and probably would have benefited from some scrubbing. I didn’t want to sit down, let alone touch anything.

“It’s awesome, right?” Thalia gushed, pointing to the stripper poles in the corners, where anyone bold enough was allowed to show off their abilities—or lack thereof. Judging from their awkward moves, the dancers were far from being professionals. “Everyone here’s single, which is why they encourage rubbing up against anyone you like to see if they like you back.” As though that was a good thing, she grinned at me and raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

“No.” I shook my head slowly, fighting hard to stifle the onset of hysteria at the back of my throat. “I meant...Oh, my god. How awful,” I murmured, unable to peel my eyes off the people dancing and making out in what looked like a huge pool, their bodies and clothes covered in foam.

I had heard of foam parties and had seen them on television, but I had never realized they actually existed and that they could be so wild. The people were uninhibited and probably intoxicated—and many of them were almost naked.

Someone bumped into me.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and moved aside, only to slam into someone else.

Small rivulets of sweat began to trickle down my spine, both from the lack of space and from the stuffy air. I tied my hair behind my back and started to fan my burning face with my hand.

“Hey, Gina. Get those drinks,” Thalia said. As soon as Gina was gone, she turned to me with a frown on her face. “You’re not going to pass out, are you?”

“What?” I stared at her. “No, I’m fine.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind about trying to find someone. I still remember how you looked when I picked up from Central Park. You didn’t seem to be in a good place. It wasn’t hard to figure out that you had been crying your heart out over a guy.”

The image of Jett with Tiffany flashed through my mind, leaving a sharp stab of pain in its wake. I cringed inwardly. “Was it that obvious?”

She shrugged, as though it didn’t matter either way. “No, but I’m used to seeing girls in your state of mind. Plus, you told me you were trying to move on from an ex and all that crap, so I figured out the rest. This might not be the most obvious place to visit after a breakup, but it’s a lot of fun getting to know someone new, as long as you know what you’re looking for.” Her gaze lingered on a nearby couple, their bodies intertwined in a slow dance.

“I suppose so,” I muttered and looked up to see Gina snaking her way toward us, balancing three pink-colored, and sugar-rimmed drinks decorated with sparkly straws and little umbrellas.

“They have the best cocktails in town.” She handed each of us a glass, keeping one for herself, then continued to gush about the place. I eyed my drink warily, my brain struggling to come up with a good excuse to order my own.

“Drink up,” Gina said, waiting for me to take a sip. “You’ll need it when we go hunting for a guy.”

To drink or not to drink?
The question was a no-brainer. If I refused, I’d have to come up with an excuse. While I liked Gina and Thalia, I still didn’t trust them enough to reveal my pregnancy, and I certainly didn’t want to feel like the oddball of the group, the third wheel. I wanted to have fun, like a real New Yorker. I didn’t want life to grip and hold me; I wanted to grip life and make it mine.

I lifted the glass and admired the beautiful pink liquid and sparkling granules of grenadine sugar around the rim. I took a sip and winced when the strong, sweet flavor hit my taste buds. It was delicious, leaving a sweet and tangy grapefruit zest behind—so delicious that I simply had to take another sip.

I didn’t know if it was the atmosphere or the drink, but within a few minutes, the blood in my veins began to rush, my body growing lighter, until I felt like I was floating in midair. Usually, a drink or two didn’t make me giddy and certainly not drunk, but I felt different this time, alive and excited—as if every fiber of my being wanted to move, dance, and act crazy. Even though I was scared of heights in any form, I felt as though I could jump off a cliff and into cold water, which I attributed to the alcohol mingling with my pregnancy hormones in a strange way.

”What is this stuff?” I held my glass up to Gina while continuing to sway to the rhythm of the music. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, as if the music inspired my body to be harmonious. Surreal happiness at the thought that I was young and ready to take on the world surged through me, a kind of blissfulness I had never felt before.

“My own personalized pink puddle drink,” Gina said proudly. “It’s my favorite. You want another one?”

Definitely not, but she was gone before I had a chance to stop her. It didn’t take her long to return with another round of glasses, insisting that she show us the rest of the club. While I was reluctant to take another sip, the heat was slowly getting to me. I was thirsty and covered in a layer of sweat. Without Gina’s noticing, I put down my first, half-full glass and took another one from her outstretched hand.

As we crossed the open-plan space at a snail’s pace and pushed through the crowd, I began to see why the place was so popular. Everywhere I looked, people were dancing, talking, and having the time of their lives, just like I was. They seemed so carefree, which made me realize that in just a few months, I would no longer be like them. Soon I’d be a mother—bound to responsibilities and facing yet more bills. It might very well be my first and last time at HUSH HUSH or any other club, for that matter, and the thought scared me.

“See that?” Gina pointed to a circular area with dozens of black wicker chairs. I nodded and she yelled in my ear, “It’s the speed-dating area for singles...or those pretending to be.”

The area was secluded, in the far corner, away from the dancing rooms and the foam party. Each booth had two wicker chairs facing one another, closed off by a string curtain that I assumed could be drawn, allowing for more privacy. The entire dating space was bathed in a violet glow, and was even darker than the rest of the club. I craned my neck to get a better view. A table was set up between each set of chairs. It was the perfect place to get to know someone without leaving the club.

“It works like this: you chat with somebody, and if you like what you see, you close the curtains.” Gina took a sip of her cocktail, her eyes shining unnaturally bright as her eyes scanned the dating area.

I expected her to want to move closer, if only so she could show me around, but strangely, she remained glued to the spot, staring ahead as though she was waiting for something to happen. I had no idea how she could see in the darkness. While I could see the shape and movement of figures all around us, my vision wasn’t sharp enough to make out faces. Eventually, Gina whispered in Thalia’s ear, and they both turned to me.

I frowned. “What?”

What now?

Almost sensing their intentions, my skin prickled at the thought of what was to come. Gina pulled me closer to her, her eyes shimmering with pride as she spoke. She pointed her glass toward the northwest side of the dating area. “That one will do.”

I followed her line of vision through the crowd and shook my head.

“Eleven o’clock,” she said impatiently, “the booth closest to the wall.”

Scanning the people around us, I narrowed my eyes.

Apart from two booths, all those close to the wall were empty. In the first one, a couple was engaged in deep conversation, the woman playing with her hair and laughing at everything the man said. In the second booth, a man was sitting alone—the only person close to the wall. From that distance, I could only see his profile, but even that was a blurry mess. With the dim and colored lights dancing above our heads, my vision was so impaired that I wasn’t even sure the person was male at all.

“You mean the guy next to the couple?” I asked, just to be sure.

When no reply came, I turned to Gina, then to Thalia, who gave me an approving look.

“This is your chance, Jenna. That’s
him
, your guy of the night,” Gina said with enough determination to make me flinch. “I just know it.”

I regarded him again. He looked unnervingly still. Unlike everyone else around us, he was just sitting there, motionless, not once turning his head to skim his surroundings.

My heart started to pound.

I couldn’t just go over and talk to him when he didn’t look like he was there for company. As I stared at him, pondering what to do, a woman approached the booth and sat down, leaving the curtain undrawn.

For some reason, I felt happy and relieved that it didn’t have to be me. I almost squealed in delight that he wasn’t alone and I was off the hook after all. I bit my lip hard to stop myself from smiling.

So, maybe I wasn’t ready to date again. While my heart was still hurting in places, my mind craving distraction, and my brain screaming for revenge, I lacked the courage to approach a total stranger and start a relationship all over again.

“Such a shame he’s found a date,” I said, not meaning a word of it. I took a step forward, ready to leave the dating area behind, when Thalia’s hand on my elbow stopped me.

“Look again,” she said, pleased.

I turned back to regard him, just in time to see the woman stomp off. As she passed us, I noticed that her face was a mask of anger. Obviously, whatever he had said hadn’t pleased her.

Nor me.

Shit.

Now I was out of excuses.

“Oh, come on.” I remained glued to the spot, unsure of what to do, when a hand shoved me forward.

“What are you waiting for? Go talk to him before someone else spies him,” Gina hissed in my ear.

She made it sound as if he was the last man on Earth, as if women were ready to fight over him. I wanted to point out that he was a human being, not a fish or an object to grab and pin to the wall. The thought of him being the last fish made me giggle. My nerves were making me irrational again, or maybe it was a physical reaction to stress and anxiety or the alcohol talking and letting me imagine all kinds of things in my mind. Whatever it was, my giggle turned into hysterical laughter, and before I could stop myself, I had taken a few more nervous gulps of my drink.

“I don’t even know what to say,” I said. “I’m not really experienced in approaching guys.”

Actually, I was putting it lightly. Talk about having zero experience.

Swallowing down the rest of my drink, I composed myself. This was such a bad idea. But so had been drinking Gina’s cocktail because, while I knew I was standing, I could barely feel my feet. Whatever had been in that cute little glass had sent the room spinning and my pulse racing. It didn’t send a rush of adrenaline through me, but it sure made me feel happy.

Gina rolled her eyes. “Just say, ‘Hi. You look great. Want to hook up with me?’ It really doesn’t matter what you say. If he digs you, he’ll be all over you anyway. Time to be slutty, bitch.”

There was no way I would say any such thing, even if I risked being single for the rest of my life.

Shaking her head, Thalia turned to me and put her arm around my shoulders. “Don’t listen to her. Just be yourself, Jenna. If it works, that’s great. If it doesn’t, you’ve lost nothing, and he’s probably not the right one anyway. Remember, it’s just for a few hours. Give it a try. You never know.”

I took a deep breath. “All right.” I handed Thalia my empty glass and stumbled forward, uncertain of whether I could fool my friends by hiding behind one of the curtains and then pretending the whole thing had been a major flop. As I spun around to find a flight route, I spied them in the distance, watching me like hawks, their hands waving at me, gesturing me to move ahead.

I decided I’d talk to the guy, who was probably boring and full of himself anyway. And it’d probably be over in no time. I laughed. Okay, so how hard could it be?