I was working with Veronique and a D Glow named Gina today. Jenna was right; I had been kept up front, doing clothing sales and arranging displays up until this point. I didn’t mind.
The Boutique was known for high-end black and red clothing and was frequented by D Glows and Normals from all over. But that wasn’t all—those in the know understood that this was also the place to get the best guns.
The day started out bumpy. I was already feeling exhausted from staying out late with DarkRDays. It had been Ty's idea, of course, but he and Jyl were kicked out of the concert after-party shortly after arriving because they kept taking pictures of DarkRDays. I tried to head out with them, but DarkRDays grabbed my arm and asked me to stay. I thought staying would be a good D Glow move, so I did. He wasn’t at all attractive to me. Although he had showered and changed after the concert, I had a hard time pretending I was into him. His hair was long and gelled back, and his eyebrows were interspersed with piercings, but it was his eyes that truly creeped me out—the whites of his eyes had been dyed a bright pink. He insisted I drink champagne with him and handed me an entire bottle to drink on my own. He then pulled me onto his lap and I sat there, cooing into his ear about how amazing he was. That's when the media crashed the party and started taking pictures. DarkRDays's security team started yelling and pushing, and chaos ensued. I took advantage of the situation and managed to slip away.
My comfort zone in the store was tested when Veronique, stuck on the reception phone, hollered for me to pick up a special order in the back for a customer. I ran over and grabbed the order card, and with only a superficial grasp of what to do, I trudged insecurely to the back hall and faced a clothing rack hung with black coats. I felt around with my fingertips for the button. I tried not to panic when I initially couldn’t find it. When I finally did, I pushed it hard. The wall behind the rack folded to the side and exposed a hidden door with a scanner. I stepped around the rack, scanned my employee badge over it, and heard a click. Remembering from a brief run-through when I had first arrived at the store that this meant the door was unlocked, I pushed a small silver button on the side of the door, and the door swung open. I tentatively stepped into the room, and the door swung shut and I heard the wall slide back into place behind me, making me that much more anxious. I was now in a closet-like room with security cameras in all corners. A mechanical voice prompted me to state my name and the passcode.
“Jade Lavaigny, 066600.” I tried to sound calm, but it just sounded soft.
A sliding butler window opened as if I were at a fast-food restaurant.
“What?” said a slick-haired older-looking Glow from behind the window. He was sporting a black Boutique T-shirt, and a tattooed arm. Behind him were racks of every type of weapon imaginable.
“I have an order for Cassandra Devers.” I handed the man the card Veronique had given to me.
The man took the card and closed the sliding window. I wondered if he was the undercover Light Glow that helped me get the job here. No, he would be more on the management side. I was trying to remember what Jenna had told me.
The sliding window reopened and the Glow pushed out a long dress box.
“Best to hold with both hands,” he said in a thick Italian accent, flashing a gold canine tooth. It sounded more like a warning than a piece of advice, so I nodded and grabbed the box, and placed both hands underneath to carry it. Whatever it was, it was heavy and had been wrapped in some type of clothing; I could feel the bulkiness of the material.
I carried the box awkwardly all the way back to the front of the store and placed it behind the desk.
Veronique, still on the phone, nodded her head toward an attractive African American Glow dressed in tight-fitting high-waisted jeans, red leather ankle boots, and a red Boutique long-sleeved shirt with swirls of black and gray.
“Cassandra Devers?” I asked, looking in the woman's direction.
“Oh, midnight!” she exclaimed with a New York accent as she sauntered over to the register. “You’re the girl dating DarkRDays!”
“No, no…I just partied with him last night,” I said uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. I found the box behind the desk and quickly put it into a large canvas bag.
“What's he like?” she asked as she scanned the barcode that had been inserted into her wrist—a trend many Glows were embracing.
“Like every other star,” I stated flatly.
“Oh, right—and a LeBete? You’re a high roller.”
“Shouldn’t we all be?” I stated coldly.
She nodded with admiration and took the bag then walked off.
“Yeah, so you and LeBete are over?” asked Veronique, who had joined me at the counter as I was finishing the transaction.
“No. I just wanted a change of pace,” I shrugged. She raised her eyebrows incredulously.
“Hmph, that's brave. I mean, being with someone else is no big deal, but having it splashed all over the papers in the LeBete family's face? Damn, that's ballsy.” Veronique pulled out the paper and showed me an article. I looked good, but the scene definitely looked bad. I was on DarkRDays's lap and appeared as content as could be, even though I hadn’t been. They must’ve shot the photo before we knew they were in the room.
“I think it's awesome you’re playing with fire.” She lifted her hand up to give me a high five. I obliged and walked over to a shelf to finish folding sweaters.
What had I done?
I had no idea this would be such a big deal. D Glows were supposed to sleep around, but I’d forgot about the “discreet” part. I hadn’t, in fact, slept with DarkRDays. I was wondering if I should’ve, though. I didn’t feel dark enough to face Pierre LeBete and was absolutely terrified to do so—I think I allowed myself to be in that situation because, maybe, if I got together with a guy like DarkRDays, I would hate myself so much, I would be darker.
My phone buzzed. Text from Stephen: Come over after work.
I was so sick and tired of getting lectured by him. He kept trying to have conversations with me out of character, as well. How was I supposed to pass the Pierre LeBete test if he kept holding me back?
I aggressively folded T-shirts for the next hour, thinking about my predicament.
Three Hours Later…
I didn’t even have time to go to my apartment; Stephen was at the front desk when I walked into the building. He was wearing a black suit, probably from his meeting this morning, and was carrying a tie in his hand. Not surprising since he hated ties, but this meant he probably hadn’t even gone up to his apartment yet.
“Hello, Jade. Come up for some drinks?” His face was emotionless, but I could tell he was seething inside.
The concierge ducked his head and acted like he wasn’t interested in our conversation. Certainly everyone had seen the article and was wondering what Stephen would do.
“I should change first,” I said flintily.
“Not necessary,” said Stephen quickly. He strode over and grabbed me by my elbow, forcefully leading me to the elevator.
Once in the elevator, I angrily shook him off and stood on the opposite corner from him. Stephen pounded the elevator button for the penthouse level and we rode up to his apartment for what seemed like hours in bristling silence.
When the door popped open to his apartment, he came up beside me and practically shoved me inside.
“What the hell, Jade?”
“Excuse me?” I asked haughtily. “What the hell, what?”
“You and DarkRDays?” His eyes, usually an amber color, seemed more green. He looked pissed.
I didn’t reply. I didn’t feel like explaining myself to him. Perhaps not the best tactic, but I was in defense mode. There was no need for him to be speaking to me this way.
“Do you know what kind of chaos this has caused?” he demanded. “You could be eliminated.”
“Well, that would suck,” I said sarcastically, marching over to his living room. I flung my purse onto the coffee table and sprawled down on his leather couch.
“Don’t you care?” His voice rose.
“I’m not supposed to care, remember?” I countered, checking out my nails.
Stephen ran his hands through his hair. “Do you want something to drink?”
He started to prowl toward the kitchen.
“No thanks,” I mumbled. “I drank enough last night to last a few days.”
“What is happening to you?” he called from the kitchen.
“Nothing. I am doing what I have to do, Stephen,” I retorted frostily, flipping through a magazine I had grabbed off his coffee table.
I heard the fridge door shut, and Stephen came back into the living room with a glass of ice.
He looked at me and then at the glass, and, realizing it had nothing in it but ice, walked back into the kitchen. Usually, he wasn’t absent minded. I heard him open a can of something. Ice clanked as he stirred a concoction together.
He came back and sat down in a chair next to me with a drink that smelled strongly of pine. Gin and tonic, I concluded.
“My father announced today that I’m taking over the business in five years.”
“Congratulations,” I said frigidly.
“He asked about you.”
“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow.
“He didn’t like your…inconsiderate public display. You do know that you’re supposed to be discreet about affairs, right?” He paused.
I didn’t say anything.
“Did you get with him?”
I glanced up now and saw what I thought looked suspiciously like sadness. “I didn’t.”
“Are you lying?”
“No,” I shook my head slightly to reinforce my answer.
“Why didn’t you tell me right away, then?” he asked.
“Because you were yelling at me,” I replied, exasperated.
“I see. So you thought not answering would make the situation better?” Stephen set his drink down on the coffee table, stood up, and walked over to the other side of the room. He looked flustered. His face was flushed and his eyes narrowed when he spoke.
“I wasn’t really thinking about it. I just didn’t appreciate you yelling.” I stood up and grabbed my purse as if to leave. “Is that all? I’d like to go home now.” This conversation was making me tired. A nap in my apartment sounded very appealing.
“No, actually,” Stephen said, sinking back down in a lounge chair on the other side of the sofa.
I sat back down on the couch with a huff and set my purse on the floor beside me.
“We have to scale this week. My mother will say where to go. We will also meet my parents next Saturday with the intent to partner.” He got up and walked back over to where he set his drink, picked it up, and took a generous sip while waiting for my reaction.
I sat there in silence for a moment to process the information.
“Next Saturday?”
Stephen nodded grimly.
“That's too soon.”
“It really isn’t. Think of the timeline.”
“I’m not ready!” I stood up, now in full panic mode.
“I think you are,” Stephen said quietly, looking down at the floor.
“I’m not,” I said, trembling. I choked back a tear and walked quickly to the bathroom before Stephen could see all my emotions on full display. I turned the faucet on and splashed cold water on my face. Crying was a sign of weakness to D Glows. I had to stop.
Stephen rapped at the door a few minutes later.
“Everything OK?”
“Uh huh,” I muttered.
“I have a drink for you. It's nonalcoholic…a cranberry juice spritzer.” His voice sounded gentle now, not callous or agitated like earlier.
I didn’t reply.
“You could probably use something hydrating,” he pressed.
I turned off the water and cracked open the door.
His face was solemn yet outrageously gorgeous as ever, and just looking at him for a few seconds calmed me slightly. I took the drink from his hand and retreated back into the bathroom, turning the water on in the shower.
“Join me for a shower?” I called out.
He didn’t move or reply. I think he was processing the idea.
“Stephen, come in.”
He slowly came into the room with a look of confusion on his face.
“Shut the door,” I commanded. He obliged and stood there, waiting to see what was going to happen next.
“Are we making up?” he asked tentatively.
I wasn’t going to take a shower, but I didn’t feel comfortable talking to him without water running in case the place was bugged. Kind of stupid, I guess, considering what we had just been talking about. But we hadn’t said anything incriminating yet, had we?
“We aren’t really taking a shower, are we?” he concluded without me replying. He looked somewhat crestfallen.
I shook my head no and sat down on the black-colored mat by the shower.
“Any chance I can coax you out to another room?”
“I’m fine here,” I insisted.
“OK, I guess this is the place.” He handed me my spritzer, and awkwardly sat down on the white-and-gray tiled floor next to the sink, facing me.
I took a sip of the spritzer. He was right, it was refreshing. After another sip, I asked, “Were you more upset about me possibly sleeping with another guy or the discretion part?”
“A little of both, I guess.”
“A little?”
“OK, a lot. I was genuinely worried about my dad—hell, I’m just gonna call him Pierre—coming after you. He's not one to toil with, Jade. I guess I also was mad—maybe even hurt—that you would sleep with someone else while we are working together so closely on this plan.”
“The goal wasn’t to hurt you.”
I didn’t think now was the time to point out that, really, we were not even together. We had decided at the Bureau of Light not to be together, and here he was, acting like we were a couple. Then again, we were still clearly attracted to one another and had been out and about as a couple in a nonconventional way. Obviously, it was complicated.
“Really? What goal were you trying to achieve, then?” he asked pointedly.
“I was trying to be darker, Stephen,” I confessed. Then I rambled on about what had happened with DarkRDays, giving him a detailed account of the evening. He listened patiently and asked a few more questions about the concert itself, and I felt the tension between us ease. We then laughed about Ty and Jyl getting kicked out of the party before diving into the more serious subject of what to do and say in front of Pierre next week.
“Remember, it's better not to speak whenever possible,” he said for the third time in ten minutes.
“Yes, I’ve got it. Pierre doesn’t believe one should speak unless it ‘improves the silence.’” I made a face.
“Correct. Oh, and know your guns.”
“I do.”
He gave me a look that said he hoped so, for my sake.
“Do you think our partner terms will be preposterous?” I asked, swishing the remaining spritzer around in my glass.
“It doesn’t matter. We’ll accept whatever terms they give us and get this over with.”
“True,” I nodded in agreement and finished off my drink.
“Hey, can we go someplace more comfortable now? My back is starting to hurt from all this sitting on a cold tile floor.” He stood up and rubbed his lower back to emphasize his apparent agony.
I nodded and flashed him a faint smile. It had been nice to just sit and talk. I stood up, set my now-empty glass on the sink, and turned off the water in the shower. Shaking off the nostalgia, I took a deep breath and got back into character.
“I think I might be able to help your back,” I said slinkily.
“Oh yeah?” He raised an eyebrow.
“You’ll have to take off your shirt.”
“I think I can handle that.”
“In fact, in case there are cameras in your place…”
“There aren’t,” he interrupted assertively.
“As I was saying,” I paused and placed my hand on his chest under his jacket, feeling the strength of his pecs. I started again slowly, “In case there are cameras, we should probably leave our clothes here. We wouldn’t want anyone to think we didn’t have a shower, right?”
“Ah,” he said, catching on and nodding. “Completely agree.”