Torn in two

Chapter 2

As promised, 5 minutes later I pull into Cindy's driveway. She lives in a townhouse right in the city and we could conveniently Uber to Greg's club for under $20. Greg insisted though he would send a limo for us instead of purchasing an Uber. The offer was nice but unnecessary. It was a club opening, not the Grammys. I assumed Greg either wanted to maintain an image or wanted to assure we got there on time. The later obviously not solvable because the limo was already waiting on the street. I hop out of my car, locking it with my key fob as I trot up the walkway to Cindy's front door. I know her door is unlocked so I walk right in the entranceway. Her living room is modern, clean and very contemporary. She believed in less is more. As in owning just a couch, a coffee table and a tv mounted on the wall. The barren furniture with the open concept to the kitchen made the place appear spotless. Any foreign objects felt like clutter. So when the kitchen island had 3 different alcohol bottles and numerous shot glasses scattered around, the place looked a mess.
"Expecting more people?" I raise an eyebrow over at Cindy who was pouring tequila in two shot glasses.
"Oh hush, you know how I like my options," not referring to just the alcohol.
Cindy was a blonde bombshell and as a social media influencer, she always maintained an image. I also think that's why Greg was pushing so hard for us to come tonight. Cindy's looks blew any of those club girls out of the water. He practically harassed her when he was in the process of hiring bottle girls. She ended up making an agreement she would help him on occasions. She was practically our third sibling. She's been in our life since we've been six years old when her parents were our neighbors. Twenty years later, we're no long neighbors, but closer than ever.
"Come take a shot and then let's go," she waved the tequila filled glass in my direction.
I walk over to her, now able to better view her outfit. She was wearing a tightly fitted white dress. My red dress contrasted with her white dress, like a devil and an angel. I had dark brown features complemented by caramel skin from my Mexican heritage. Cindy and I were total opposites, but equally attractive in our own flavors, specially heightened when next to one another. Which we always were. Since my parents passing, Cindy has made an appoint to be there for both, Greg and I. But I halt any further thoughts of my parents before my night is ruined. It was already off to a rough start.
I took the glass from her awaiting hand and clink our cups together.
"Bottoms up," I swig back the contents of the glass.
Yuck. I pucker my face with disgust.
"Stop, Jose has always been my man," Cindy waves at the opened bottle of Jose Cuervo silver infront of us.
"I'm more of a Don Julio gal," I admit before stuffing a lime in my mouth.
"Alright, boujee. That's probably why Greg has you ordering alcohol and me passing them out," she giggles.
Clearly that wasn't her first shot tonight.
I was the alcohol importer for Greg's club and Jose Cuervo was not a contender on the shelves.
I needed to catch up so I poured another shot and quickly tipped the tequila back.
"Okay, I'm ready, let's get out of here," I dab at my lips with a napkin on the counter, careful not to smudge my red lipstick.
Cindy skips ahead of me to the front door, opening it for the both of us. She ushers me out the door and we make our way to the awaiting limo.
Once we settle inside, the briskness of the leather seat against my thighs remind me of the hour before. The sensation causes a shutter to rake through my body and I find myself yearning for those dark onyx eyes to look at me again. I wonder if they ever will.
"Hey, are you okay?" Cindy touches my arm, snapping me out of my consuming thoughts.
Waiting for the limo to move before responding.
"I was arrested earlier," I slowly mention.
Cindy spits out her drink, spraying everywhere.
"What the fuck, Cindy?" I wipe off her tequila infused mixed drink from my arms. Not like that will be the first drink to get on me tonight. I'm sure by the end of the night I'll be wearing random drinks and sticky from sweat.
"You can't just drop that like a bomb and not expect me to react. What the hell, why didn't you tell me?" she looked offended.
"Because the cop let me go," I shrug.
"But why did they even arrest you?" She asks confused.
"He arrested me to prevent," I briefly pause to find the words to explain, "us from hooking up while he was working," I slowly smile and look up at her.
She was gleaming, her smile ear to ear.
"How did that happen?" She scoots closer wanting more details.
"I blame this little red dress. Every woman should carry one as their secret weapon," I jokingly slide my hand down the length of my dress.
"So did you get his number?" I blink a couple times before answering.
"Well, no," I frown.
"Then how do you plan to finish what you guys started?" She frowns with me.
"By sheer luck I guess," still frowning now that I realized I really may never see him again.
Because what were the odds? Miami was huge. Crimes occurred every night so I'm certain he was always busy. Too busy to bump paths with me again, atleast.
"To sheer luck," Cindy holds her class up for a toast.
"I'll need every ounce of it," I meet her glass and cheers.
We both chug our drinks as we pull up to Greg's nightclub.
Club Inferno.
The place was packed. The line extended from the entrance all the way around the corner. The bass from the music was vibrating the sidewalk outside and streams of colorful bright lights would leak from the front entrance every time the bouncer would let someone inside.
We walk right up to the bouncer, Mitch, as we were given dirty glares and distant rude remarks drowned out by the music for bypassing everyone whose been waiting to enter. Mitch is a 6 foot 5, 300lbs linebacker and could easily stop any fight. He simply nods at Cindy and I, opening the door for us to enter.