Lies That Sinners Tell (The Klutch Duet 1)

It was my sex on a stick dress.

I’d straightened my hair so it hung all the way down my back. My makeup was heavy, sultry.

Yeah, I looked hot.

So did my friends.

Zoe was wearing tan leather pants and a chocolate, lace bodysuit. Her hair was slick against her head, making her features sharper, more defined. More striking.

Wren was wearing a dress even shorter than mine—which was saying something. The teeny, white, strapless dress was simple and let her body and her beauty speak for her. Wild curls tumbled down her back.

Yasmin had borrowed one of my Halston Heritage jumpsuits, which she looked better in than I did. The gold fabric made her caramel skin glow and exposed her seriously fucking toned arms.

Yeah, we looked great.

“I hate to say it, but this place lives up to the hype,” Zoe quipped, sipping on her drink.

She didn’t have to shout, despite the music thumping through the club, since the VIP areas were raised above the actual dance floor. Each had a separate entrance and exit, its own bathroom down a spiral staircase. Once you arrived in your area, your personal valet took your drink preferences and asked if you needed anything else at all. Anything.

Wren had tested Hazel—our valet—by requesting a tampon, a cheeseburger and a new pair of underwear. Each had been procured within fifteen minutes. I was sure she would’ve tried to get some illicit drugs—for ‘research’—had I not warned her off from doing it. I didn’t know how Jay felt about drugs, but I knew he was watching, and I really didn’t want him to see us turning his employee in to a drug mule.

Sofas bordered the area, high top tables toward the front where you could sit and look down at the dance floor, separated by some kind of soundproof plexiglass. We had our own DJ for when we decided we wanted to dance.

The cocktails were some of the best we had ever tasted.

So yeah, it lived up to the hype.

“Apparently, we have an open invitation to come here whenever we like,” I told the group at large, sipping my drink and eating the last of the cheeseburger that Wren had ordered. It was the best cheeseburger I’d had in my life.

“No shit?” Zoe asked, raising her eyebrows ever so slightly. She was obviously impressed, which was no mean feat with Zoe.

I nodded. “For as long as the arrangement lasts, at least.”

Each of my friends caught my tone. Because they knew me far too well.

“This is going to last for as long as you want it to last,” Yasmin informed me, a smile hooking her lips. “I’ve got a feeling that you’re in control of that, no matter what Jay likes to say or insinuate.”

My brow raised in challenge. None of my friends had met Jay, let alone seen him in the flesh, so they didn’t really have the information to make these kinds of statements. They were biased because they loved me and would tell me I could run for president if I so wanted. Zoe would be my campaign manager, Wren my stylist, fundraiser and everything in between. Yasmin would be my personal lawyer.

“No other woman in Jay’s arrangements got themselves VIP booths at Klutch,” Zoe added.

I frowned at her. “I told you not to do any more digging on Jay.”

She shrugged. “I don’t do what people tell me to do.”

My eyebrows narrowed, ready to chew her out for doing that. For not only putting my arrangement in danger but putting herself in the firing line. I wasn’t sure what Jay would do if he found her out. I knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but he would do something to communicate that he didn’t like to be investigated. And it wouldn’t be subtle.

“Ms. Hudson?” a voice interrupted the tirade I was planning.

I turned to see Karson standing in front of me. As usual, he looked serious, menacing and downright dangerous.

I grinned at him, feeling the warmth of my third martini. “Karson!” I greeted, forgetting about what I was going to say to Zoe. “You’ve come to dance with us? I know that Wren would be very happy about that.” My eyes turned to where my friend was drinking her own cocktail, watching Karson. She did not smile. She merely held up her glass to him, then very purposefully crossed her long legs. No smile. Not even a signature Wren seduction glance. No, there was a coldness to her that I hadn’t seen before.

Karson didn’t even look at her.

“Mr. Helmick requires your presence,” Karson proclaimed.

I looked up in the direction of Jay’s office then back to Karson. “Right now?” I frowned. “We were about to dance.”

“Right now,” Karson replied, tone brokering no argument.

I sighed dramatically. “Of course.” I turned back to my girls. “I’m being summoned,” I informed them.

Zoe’s forehead creased slightly, a considerable achievement considering she had a standing appointment for Botox every 10 weeks. “Summoned?”