When career-driven Eva meets the irresistible Sven, she must balance her ambition with the pull of love to achieve the life she truly desires.
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Meet Eva King, a high-spirited manager in an international firm. She scraped her way up from zero to h...
Mood: tap the media box above to listen to Hips Don't Lie by Shakira.
Dance is the hidden language of the soul.
- Martha Graham
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Nine p.m. Friday night.
The Koala Bar was an energy hub inundated with deafening music, bright lights contrasted against the darkness, and a mesh of bodies on the dance floor.
The closeted club air was infiltrated with the smell of beer and spirits mixed with cheap perfume and men's cologne.
"Eva, there's Jonas! Let's go and say hello to him," Maddy yelled, loud enough for me to hear, as the sound of people shouting was drowned the blaring beats of latest song playing in the club.
We moved through the mosh pit of bodies, making our way to Jonas and his group of friends, alive but not entirely unscathed.
My foot survived being stomped by a stiletto, and a painful bruise would no doubt surface in the morning.
"Hey ladies, I'm glad you can make it tonight," Jonas beamed, arms wide open, encouraging hugs from both Maddy and myself.
Maddy kissed Jonas on the lips and gently groped his ass, while I gave him a hug of friendship, more like a pat on the back.
She finally admitted to me that she and Jonas were "flatmates with benefits." It didn't take much to figure that out from day one, but I let Maddy have her moment when she revealed her grand non-secret.
A busty, tanned brunette with slim legs, wearing a tiny strapless top and a denim miniskirt, walked to me and smiled, as I winced in pain from watching Maddy and Jonas french kiss.
"Hallo! Nice to meet you. I'm Kaya," Sugar Lips purred.
"Hey, I'm Maddy's friend, Eva." I shook Kaya's hand, as my eyes darted at Maddy, who was busy vampire-sucking Jonas' neck for Viking blood, while he was busy playing with her curves, as if she was a fiddle and he was her fiddler.
I rolled my eyes in exasperation.
"I've heard so much about you," Kaya continued, fighting for my attention.
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. Sven talks about you. We're in the same Scandinavian social circle here..."
My heart sank at the mention of his name. I was love sick, and it sucked. This was worse than my break-up with Brock Miller, which lasted for five days.
I still yearned for Sven thirteen days after we broke up. This set a new record. Maybe I should have a party. A fucking pity party.
I laughed off the absurd thought, trying to focus on Kaya's attempt to talk to me.
