Turned out, the decision paid off pretty damn well. I never had to buy any of my own clothes, or suffer the torture that was retail shopping, and Pepper had a fantastic eye. It was the perfect arrangement. And it seriously helped that Pepper wasn’t like most other women. There really wasn’t any drama where she was concerned.

Unless it came to Griffin.

I had no idea what happened between the two of them, but for the past two years, it seemed like they were determined to do battle every time they were in the same room. Griff got a sick thrill out of fucking with her, and Pepper seemed to despise the ground he walked on. What made that strange was the fact that they’d been friends before. No telling what happened, but that was a mess I was staying the hell out of.

“Not in my apartment, man,” I lamented. “I don’t want to deal with the bloodstains when she claws your eyes out.”

Griffin turned and headed for the door, grinning over his shoulder as he said, “I just want to say hi to an old friend. No harm in that.”

I didn’t even bother responding to that asinine comment as I followed him out of the office and down the hall to the living room. Just as we turned the corner, something Pepper said piqued my curiosity.

“See? I told you I’d have something for you to look forward to after Rowan’s done chewing your ass out.”

“Chewing your ass out for what?” I asked as Griff and I stepped into the room. Pepper spun around, her eyes full of laughter—that was, until they set sight on Griffin.

“Ugh, what are you doing here?” she snarled, her red-painted lips curling up in disgust.

“I’m here to see your cheerful, smiling face, of course,” Griffin needled.

“What am I going to chew your ass out about?” I asked again, trying to diffuse the situation between the two people currently taking their corners for a fight.

Navie pulled her attention from the two of them and turned to me, a look of uncertainty in those big, blue eyes I was quickly finding myself addicted to.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Those denim-colored orbs rolled back in her head as Navie let out a huff and grabbed a garment bag from the back of the couch. Walking to me, she slapped the thing against my chest.

“Here. You need to try this on so Pepper can get your measurements right.”

With a quirked brow, I reached for the zipper and pulled it down. My confusion instantly morphed into displeasure. “Why does Pepper need my measurements for a tux?”

“Because you’re going to the AHA gala at the end of the month,” she mumbled quickly. Unfortunately, I heard her clearly.

“Oh, come on! You know I hate those fucking things. A bunch of rich pricks flaunting their money just so they can look like they give a shit about something when they’re really only thinking about how they can fuck one of the staff without their spouses catching on.”

“Wow,” Navie said with a tilt of her lips. “You aren’t cynical at all, are you?”

“I’m not going.”

She planted her hands on her hips and glared at me. “You’re going, and that’s final. You’re going to be one of those rich pricks for a night. Look on the bright side—maybe you can bang a waitress.” She smiled full-on, clearly pleased with her joke.

“You just want to be fired, don’t you?”

She shrugged casually. “You can’t fire me. Technically, I work for Lauren. And she likes me better than you.”

I was suddenly hit with a stroke of genius. “Pepper,” I spoke, not breaking the stare-off between Navie and myself.

“Yeah?” she asked over her laughter.

“I’m going to need you to find something suitable for Navie to wear to the event, since she’ll be coming along.”

“What? Are you out of your mind? I’m not going with you!”

“I’m assuming you RSVP’d plus one?” I asked, already knowing the answer to my question.

“Of course. Are you ever seen out in public without a bimbo on your arm?”

“Well…” an evil grin twisted my lips up, “…seeing as I’m not planning on looking for a date, and it’s a thousand-dollars-a-plate dinner, looks like you’ll be that bimbo for the night.”

Our standoff continued for several seconds before her shoulders fell in defeat. “Fine. But I don’t like you.”

“Works for me.” I shrugged.

Pepper stepped over to us and hooked her arm through Navie’s. “Go try the damn tux on,” she said before turning back to Navie. “Let’s go talk outfits for tonight. I’m thinking the Neon Room is going to be ripe for the picking, and Mama needs to get laid. VIP, baby!”

Griff and I stood side by side, staring as they headed into the kitchen and out of earshot.

“Hey, Row?”

“Yeah?”

“Think you can get us into the Neon Room?”

I had no doubt my smile was akin to the Cheshire Cat. “I’ll make some calls.”

As I’d expected, Harlow was ecstatic at the idea of a girls’ night out. Before bills, jobs, and the rest of the general adult crap had been dumped upon us, dancing was something we always loved to do. So in preparation for a much needed night out, we spent well over two hours getting ready. The end result was something I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to replicate again.

“Girl, you look hooooooooot!” Pepper whistled as Harlow and I stepped out of the back of our cab in front of the Neon Room. I looked down at my dress, feeling more exposed than I ever had in my life.

When I’d made it home and told Harlow about our plans, she’d immediately run to her room and come back with two dresses, tossing them down and declaring, “Pick one. I’ll wear the other.” One was a sleeveless dress with a cream, jersey-knit top and a shimmery dove gray skirt. It was cute, but the large triangle cutouts on both sides showed more skin than I was willing to show. I thought the silver sequined dress would have been a safer pick; it had short sleeves, and although it would only come to about mid-thigh, it had a modest neckline. The dress was fun, a little funky and, matched with a pair of nude platform heels, was right up my alley. That was until I picked it up and saw the back, or should I say lack thereof.

It scooped down the entire length of my back. Those little dimples at the base of my spine were in serious danger of being exposed, and I worried that if I bent the wrong way, I’d be flashing crack at some poor, innocent bystander. But when I tried to trade back with Harlow, she’d refused, telling me the dress was made for me.

I hated her.

My eyes traveled from my less than modest ensemble to what Pepper was wearing. It was an outfit I’d never have the lady balls to wear, but she absolutely rocked it. The black leather pants hugged her like a second skin. Her red corseted halter top lifted and cinched to make her figure look perfect. And her leopard-print pumps were to die for.

Literally.

As I stood there, I conjured up different scenarios just so I could get my hands on those shoes. She had the sexy rockabilly look down pat.

“You, too,” I answered, leaning in to give her a hug, mindful not to bend too far forward. After quickly introducing Harlow and Pepper, we made our way to the front of the club, bypassing a line so long it snaked around the building. I wasn’t going to lie; jumping ahead of all those people desperate to get in was a heady experience. Pepper flashed our passes—along with a seductive wink—at the bouncer and just like that, we were in.

The instant we stepped inside, my senses went on overload. People packed the dance floor in the very middle of the space, moving and swaying to the beat that vibrated through the floors. Flashes of different colored lights shot in random intervals through the dimly lit building, bathing everything in temporary color before going dark again. The club was two levels, the first floor housing the dance floor and two long bars, one on the far back wall and one to the right when we first walked in. A curved, wrought iron set of stairs to my left led up to the second level. It was completely open, like a balcony wrapping around all four walls, overlooking the action down below. I was willing to bet that was the VIP area. The energy in the club was positively electric, and I felt my excitement build at the idea of getting out there and losing myself in the sea of people.