Page 64 of Chandelier Enthralled
At 6:00 P.M., I rode the elevator down with several other staff members who mostly ignored me, chatting amongst themselves to prove I was still an outsider. Starting somewhere new resulted in feelings of loneliness.
Proving myself would grant me respect and, hopefully, I’d make some friends.
I rode the elevator all the way down to the parking lot, waiting for the crowd to disperse before I claimed my brother’s Ghost.
After driving along the side streets for a while in bumper-to-bumper traffic, I eventually navigated onto the southbound lane of the 605 freeway. Heart pounding, I followed my lead towards that alluring building, my mouth going dry in anticipation.
Of course, Cameron could track me via his car, so there was no way to prevent that, but hopefully, he respected my privacy.
After an hour, I pulled up to the address I’d researched.
It was a great location, with the golden sandy beach opposite. A building rose majestically on the corner, its façade a blend of modern and classic architecture. The outside was illuminated by soft yellow lights casting a warm glow over the mysterious property.
I parked a little way down the street so no one could see me and stared at the fascinating guests who were arriving, which included women in elegant gowns, proving this wasn’t a gentlemen’s-only club.
Men in tailored suits came in groups or alone, climbing the steep steps and soon disappearing through the ornate front door with the impressive knocker.
It made me wonder if it was a prestigious private event.
I wasn’t dressed formally enough to enter, so going in tonight wasn’t an option. I’d have to come back.
I started the engine.
Several women rounded the corner, their laughter echoing down the street. Two of them wore trench coats, but as one unfastened her belt, she revealed a bodice and stockings, the most daring, seductive outfit I’d ever seen. Without missing a beat, they all scurried up the stone stairs to the grand doorway, their heels clicking against the steps in a playful way.
What kind of place was this?
A sudden blur darted directly into the glare of my headlights; the tall figure’s features distorted by the harsh beam. Broad shoulders filled out a suit, his shadowed face partially revealed as he squinted through the windshield at me.
I gripped the steering wheel, palm poised on the horn, ready to attract attention to get help.
Before I could react further, the guy stalked around to my driver’s door, his steps sharp and purposeful. His tall frame loomed over me as his fist, knuckles tight, rapped against my window.
“Open the door,” he commanded, his voice low and urgent, cutting through the tense silence.
Oh, my God, it washim.
Icouldn’t ignore the fact that Willa had parked Cameron’s Rolls even closer to Pendulum, as if daring someone to see her. Monday meant a quieter night at the club, but that offered no reassurance.
She risked being followed—all the way to her brother’s home.
I rapped on the driver’s window, throwing a glance toward the club to make sure no one saw us. Willa sat there, frozen.
“It’s me,” I said to reassure her.
She called through the glass. “I can see that.”
“Then open the door.”
“Why are you here?”
“I will smash it if I have to,” I said calmly.
Willa was staring at me wide-eyed.
I was glad it was me who had seen her, and not some brute from Pendulum.
I slammed my palm to the glass. “Now!”
