Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
“Home?” drawls a male voice. “That sounds boring. We’re going to do something much more fun.”
I feel sick to my stomach as I look at Randall. I guess I’m not the only one who was sleeping with the boss. Only I was wrong, Randall isn’t wasted. Or rather, he’s not wasted enough that he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing with Cosette in the state that she is. I type out a text on my phone as fast as I can.
I need you. Parking lot. Hurry.
“Cosette,” I say gently, “let’s go home.”
“No!” she practically spits the word in my face. “I don’t have to do what you tell me to. I don’t have to do what anybody tells me to because I’m a fucking adult, got it?”
Shit. I close my eyes. This isn’t just a wasted Cosette. This is the Cosette that calls me sobbing because she’s made a bad decision that she can’t take back and doesn’t even remember making. I love my best friend, and she’s the brightest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met. With a tendency to self-destruct if she’s upset about something. Which means that letting her go with Randall, even if she was sober enough to consent, is a really fucking bad idea.
“No, sweetie,” I say, “I can’t tell you what to do. But I’d really love it if you came home with me. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m not okay, and you’re not gonna be the one who makes sure I’m okay, okay? Randall is gonna make sure I’m okay.” She turns to him, planting a kiss on his lips, and he takes full advantage, spinning her against the car and starting a full on make-out session.
I grab his shoulders and pull him off her. “Get the fuck off her. She’s not sober enough to say no, so she sure is hell isn’t going with you.”
Randall sneers at me, “Are you her mother? You don’t think she’s going to love every second with me? I’ll make sure she has a real nice time. And if she doesn’t remember some of the things that happen?” He shrugs.
“You’re an asshole,” I say.
“Stop it!” Cosette screams at me, “Just stop it. You don’t know what you’re talking about, Libby. Randall is helping me.”
“Oh really? How is he helping you? Other than using you for sex while you’re drunk?”
She gets in my face. “He’s going to help me be better. He’s going to help me make more tips, show me what the people want. I’m going to be the best dancer in there and Randall is going to make sure of it.”
I take a deep breath, desperately trying not to scream at her. But she’s wasted, and logic isn’t going to work here. “I can’t let you do this, Cosette. It’s dangerous and unprofessional.”
Cosette bursts out laughing. It’s a cackle that cracks across the parking lot, loud and brassy. “Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t have any right to judge me. I know you’re fucking the boss. I know you’re fucking Julian fucking Rivers. I saw him at that audition, and of course he was watching you. Everybody is always watching you. And it was MY AUDITION. You were supposed to just sit there and support me but you had to take some for yourself didn’t you? You always have to take some for yourself. You just can’t let me have this one thing. And now you can’t even let me fuck the boss just like you. You don’t want me to have any of the special treatment you’re getting because you’re selfish. Fuck off, Libby.”
She collapses against the car, suddenly crying after her outburst, and Randall moves to put her in the car. I step between them, staring him down. “I swear if you touch her you will never have children or proper sex ever again. How many times have you done this with her?”
He smirks at me. “More times than you want to know. I’m surprised you didn’t notice. After all, didn’t you hear us when you were home?”
I think I might throw up. He was in my apartment, taking advantage of my best friend. I’m going to rip his head off. “If you know what’s good for you,” I say with more calm than I feel, “you will back the hell up.”
“What are you going to do?” he asks.
Just then I hear footsteps on pavement, and I feel my shoulders relax. Julian. I look back at him, and he takes in the situation in a glance, that piercing observation taking in the state of both Cosette and Randall. “How many drinks have you had?” He directs the question at Randall.
“That’s none of your business.”
“The hell it isn’t. You’ve got car keys in your hand and it looks like your about to drive off with one of my employees.”