Club Gold

Chanel No.5

I finished up applying my sparkly pink lipgloss as the car stopped in the parking lot. Jaxon hopped out the driver's seat and opened my door, Beck took my hand as I found my footing on the gravel in my high, diamanté heels.

"Thank you, darlings," I said, getting used to the posh British accent I'd be borrowing for the night.

Usually, my name was Dani Morgan. Tonight, I was Iris Montgomery, daughter of British nobility, wrapped tightly in a baby pink silk dress, smelling sweetly of Chanel No.5, a jacket of fake white fur hugging my shoulders.

Fake. Almost everything in our lives was either fake, stolen, or bought with stolen money. That's how we made a living, going to fancy clubs and stealing from the rich creeps who tried to hit on me.

Jaxon was posing as a Russian millionaire by the name of Nikolas Turgenev. He was actually half Russian, learning the language fluently from his mother. He wasn't one for talking to the victims, but he was a magician at swiping wallets without them noticing.

Beck would be Julian Windsor, my jealous ex husband that would create a distraction for Jaxon to grab the goods, and create an escape for us once he got them.

We headed inside the club, flashing our fake IDs at the bouncer. I headed over to the bar, while Beck and Jaxon found somewhere to stand, where they could watch over me to make sure I was safe and wait for cues, whilst not looking too suspicious.

Before long, a grey haired man, late 50's to early 60's, made his way over to me. I turned away to grin to myself, before turning back to him with the sweetest of smiles.

"Good evening, ma'am," He said with a smirk, "May I buy you a drink?"

"I suppose you can," I giggled, "I'll have whatever you're having."

"A little G&T wouldn't go amiss."

He pulled out his wallet to pay for the drinks, and it was stuffed full of cash. I glanced over at the guys to make sure they were taking note. He put the wallet in his back pocket. Perfect.

"So what's a pretty young lady like yourself doing alone at a bar?" He asked, a smug look on his face.

"I'm supposed to be on holiday, but my ex husband found out I was in the city," I lied, "So I came here to find someone who would love me like he never did, even if it's only for a night, but surely a handsome man like you has a wife?"

I almost threw up at the last part.

"No, I could never settle down," He said, "I prefer non-committal, one night only."

The bartender placed our drinks down in front of us.

"I guess that makes us a perfect match, then!" I beamed, clinking my glass against his.

That was the que. Beck stormed over.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing with my wife?" He shouted in an accent matching mine.

"Ex wife!" I snarled at him.

"Listen, I had no idea-" The man scrambled for words.

Jaxon slid past behind him, grabbing the wallet as he pretended to wait at the bar.

"Well keep your hands off her!" Beck continued, "Iris, we are going home."

He grabbed my wrist in a way that looked forceful, but didn't actually hurt.

"I'm a grown woman!" I pretended to protest, "I can do whatever the hell I please!"

"We. Are. Going. Home." Beck stared right into my eyes, before dragging me away, out the club.

Jaxon had snuck away to the bathroom as we left, so he didn't look suspicious by leaving at the same time as us, but also wasn't there for the man to pin the wallet stealing on.

Soon enough, he left and we got back into the car to hit up the next club of the night. Jaxon drove as Beck counted the money.

"Over a thousand dollars," He gasped, "In one wallet? Is he crazy?"

"So can we go shopping tomorrow?" I asked.

"I don't know..." Jaxon trailed off to annoy me.

"Pleaseee," I pleaded.

"Fine," He gave in, "As long as we can go look at our own stuff and don't have to follow you about for hours."

"Yay!" I smiled, already looking forward to it.

I never had much growing up, so shopping days after a successful night were like Christmas to me.

We parked outside the next club.

"You ready, doll?" Beck asked, faking his accent again.

I sprayed my perfume a couple times to freshen up.

"Ready as I'll ever be."