Meet Scarlett Striker, a bold and quirky journalist for the Seattle Times. She's fun, confident, sassy, and just the right amount of weird. Scarlett is determined to rise to the top, no matter what it takes.
When her boss offers a golden opportunity...
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The club is electric, the pounding bass reverberating through every inch of my body, syncing with the beat of my racing heart. Elizabeth had finally dropped the bomb earlier—she and Chris were officially together, though they were taking things slow. I couldn't be happier for her, especially after she confessed the real reason she came to Settle: Matt, that abusive asshole, had shown up again. The thought of Chris beating him to a pulp brought a wicked smile to my face. If he hadn't, I sure as hell would have.
Tonight was about celebration and release, so I dragged Elizabeth out with Eva, Josh, and even Tom, who had insisted on joining. James, mercifully, had been silent since the event. I was deep in my research, and he was finally leaving me the hell alone.
The moment El Alfa's beat drops, the entire club erupts, and Elizabeth and I scream in unison, our excitement spilling over. This is where the night gets fun. The crowd pulses around us, bodies moving in time with the music, the energy infectious.
I take a sip of my drink, the alcohol adding a warm buzz to the thrill of the night. My black mini dress clings to my curves, the plunging neckline and high slit on one side leaving little to the imagination. I feel fierce, confident, like I own this night.
Elizabeth is by my side, her black mini dress with lace sleeves making her look both elegant and alluring. Silver jewelry glints under the strobe lights as she moves, a carefree smile on her face that makes me forget, if only for a moment, the shit she's been through.
Tom, never one to be outshone, is the life of the party. He's decked out in a sequined blazer that catches every light in the room, reflecting a rainbow of colors. His shirt is halfway unbuttoned, revealing a mischievous grin and a chest that glistens with glitter. He flits between us, teasing and laughing, his sassy comments making us howl with laughter.
"Oh honey, that dress is scandalous," Tom says, eyeing me up and down with an exaggerated look of approval. "You're going to have to peel the men off you with a spatula!"
I laugh, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "And your blazer, Tom! Are you trying to blind us all? It's fabulous!"
"Please," Tom scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. "I didn't come here to play. I came here to slay."
Eva, ever the voice of reason, even after a few drinks, leans in with a grin. "Tom, if you slay any harder, you're going to have to start charging for autographs."
Josh, looking effortlessly cool in a fitted shirt and jeans, raises his glass to toast. "To Tom, the queen of the night! And to Elizabeth, for finally locking it down with Chris."
Elizabeth blushes, rolling her eyes but smiling. "Oh, stop it. We're just taking things slow."
"Slow, schmo," Tom chimes in, shimmying his shoulders to the beat. "As long as he knows how to treat you right, that's all that matters."
"Preach, Tom," I say, clinking my glass against his. "And if he doesn't, I'll beat him up."
Elizabeth laughs, a sound that's music to my ears. "I'm glad Matt's out of my life for good. Tonight's about fun, not thinking about the past."
