❝ I didn't give a damn about anyone in a long time. And then you came along and pretty much blew that plan straight to hell. ❞
in which New York's most wanted man rescues a rich girl who is simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
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"DEAR GOD, if I make it out of here alive I promise that I might give away a cashmere sweater in the charity pile when I go Church."
There was another gunshot, and she could hear what seemed like a body thump on the door.
"Oh come on! They wouldn't even know what to do with it!"
•••
Throughout the classrooms, local coffee shops even downtown stores, it was the talk of the town, especially the upper class folks, the name Honeytrap was on their lips.
Clubs like this come once in a lifetime, and at the moment, it's pretty exclusive. Rumour had it that you have to be dressed in either Galliano, Valentino, Versace or anything as high end as that to even set foot in there.
Once you were in, you could maybe catch a glimpse of the entire New York Knicks in the VIP lounge. Or maybe spot George Clooney at the bar. Possibly even Rihanna sitting in a booth.
And all Tamara Blake could think of is that she had to be there. No matter what.
Her friends, and friends in air quotes, meaning a bunch of girls who were in the same amount of her family's tax brackets were planning their outfits and clutches.
She felt her own acrylic nails digging into her palms. Unfortunately, her father had planned an elaborate dinner party in which she had to be in attendance.
It was basically a night of him schmoozing with executives, CEOs, politicians and law enforcement.
This club was only going to be open for the last night, it was so trendy in fact that it was only going to stay open for two weeks and Saturday night was it's grand farewell.
Meaning that the possibility of rubbing shoulders with any of those A-List celebrities was at it's all time high.
"And what about you Tamara? What do you think you're gonna wear?" The leader of these girls, Olive Bennett said.
Tamara tried to resist the urge not to frown.
Olive is the worst out of all these girls. Her name derived from the fact that she was conceived in the Mediterranean.
"I'm not sure that Tamara is coming." Another girl, Penelope Huntington said in her extremely high pitched and nasally voice. "My mother and father are attending your father's dinner party and they made it clear that you're actually helping to host."
"Haven't you been to one of these sort of events before Penelope?" Tamara replied calmly. "All us children have to do is show our faces, greet the guests and then we are dismissed. I could easily make my way into Honeytrap if I wanted to."
A tense silence fell over the group of girls. This was clear proof that none of these girls are truly friends. Or even know the meaning of friendship.
