SCARLET MEETS MILA

39

"I'm so excited." Willow squeaks as we pull up outside of the club in a sleek black Bentley. "I've never been to anything this fancy before, and to top it all off, Scarlet Ramirez will be here too."

I can't help but laugh. "Relax." I tap her leg and wait for the driver to reach our door. "You can't freak out, ok? She's my boss, and Harlow will be here too."

"Harlow? Fuck Harlow." She snorts. "Never heard of her."

I cock a brow. "Well she's on par with Scarlet." I explain. "They're both intimidating, and if anything, Harlow is much worse."

"Doubt it." Willow huffs. "But I'll hear you out. I'm just down to make friends and maybe meet a hot model or two."

I shake my head and roll my eyes. "Do me a favour and meet Harlow." I jest. "She's really screwing things up for me right now."

"Mila, she's a side piece." Willow scoffs. "Scarlet wants you, and the sooner she realises that, the better."

"I'm the side piece." I correct. "That's the issue."

Willow eyes the flashing cameras and sighs. "I just think you're both afraid." I shoot her a deadly gaze and furrow my brow. "Let's be honest, the whole kid sharing thing is pretty intimate for side projects."

"Don't call it that."

"What? Why."

"Because it's weird." I scold. "We had a fling, that's all."

She turns to face me, grabbing my hands and placing them on my knees. "If you don't cut this shit out, I'll slap you myself." Her eyes focus, and I can tell she means every word she's saying. "I need my best friend to be dating Scarlet Ramirez. It would be killer for my social life."

"You don't have a social life." I huff, turning toward the now opening door.

"Exactly!" Willow calls from behind. "I need this."

The cameras lining the club snap a few pictures of me and Willow, but I doubt they're anything as dramatic as they will be for Scarlet. Admittedly, I wish I could see her entrance. I'm sure for an event like this, she must look overwhelmingly gorgeous. Not that she isn't always, but tonight, I'd be surprised if she didn't go all out.

We enter the club with an escort no shorter than a pro basketball player. He's handsome and strong, guiding us into the private booths that are already populated with a sea of stunning faces. This is a lot. Booming music and dark strobes ignite around us, and if it wasn't for Willow, I'd have ran away to the nearest bathroom.

"Wow." Willow flails her arms and spins in a small circle. "This is insane."

"I hate it." I swallow. "Why did she need me here anyway? It's not like I can do any work while partying to Martin Garrix."

"Oh lighten up." Willow slaps my shoulder. "You're getting paid to get drunk and make memories. I'd kill to be you right now."

I pull her in close and snarl. "I don't like socialising. This is literally my living nightmare."

"That's why I'm here." Willow reassures. "You can talk to me. I'll take one for the team."

"Perfect." I mock.

She grunts. "Don't be boring, Mila. Maybe if you're lucky, Scarlet might experience the good old Dutch courage and take you right here in this booth."

"She doesn't drink." I remind her. "And while Harlow is latched on she'll come no where near me."

Willow doesn't bother to humour me, and instead, she reaches for a nearby glass and gulps down half a shot of vodka. Already, I can tell this night will be hell.