The Bride Wore My Nightmares Chapter 08
Mom and Dad were both home today, and no matter how besotted Ethan was, there was no way he could keep Vanessa at our house overnight.
But given Dad’s temper, there was no way he was letting Ethan set one foot out the door either.
And a woman like Vanessa? She couldn’t go a single day without a man. There was no way she was going to sit at home alone through a long, empty night without finding some neon-lit corner in which to entertain herself.
In the afternoon I called home. Sure enough, everything was going exactly as I’d predicted.
Ethan was pinned down at home by Dad. Vanessa had left on her own.
Chloe and I exchanged one look.
“Tonight, we move.”
The moment dusk fell, we got in the car and drove out.
By the time we actually reached the door of that lounge, I got a little nervous.
“I’ve never been to a place like this before,” I said, tugging on Chloe’s sleeve. My voice trembled a little.
“What are you afraid of? We’re already here. This is Brittany’s family territory. She said if anything happens, just call.”
“Right.”
We pushed through the door and it was another world entirely — a bass line pounding so hard the floor buzzed under my feet, violet-red lights slicing across the crowd overhead, and the air thick with the mingled smell of perfume, whiskey, and sweat.
Chloe and I picked the most out-of-the-way corner and sat down.
Not long after, she gripped my arm and dropped her voice: “Look — over there, isn’t that Vanessa?”
I looked up — and there she was.
Nothing like the girl-next-door she’d played at our house. This Vanessa was in a tight, backless black dress, standing ramrod straight on stiletto heels, her arm hooked intimately through some man’s, laughing and chatting in front of a black Range Rover.
“They’re heading to a VIP booth — come on!”
I picked up my drink and hung a discreet distance behind Chloe, following them, watching Vanessa lean coquettishly against the man to whisper in his ear — and thinking that at this very moment, Ethan was probably at home starving himself over her, taking a stand against Mom and Dad. The irony almost burst out of my throat.
The two of them disappeared behind the heavy leather curtain of the VIP booth.
My mind was racing — no, I had to get in there.
I scanned the room, all glittering lights and jostling bodies, then my eyes lit up and I grabbed Chloe. “Call your friend. Ask if Brittany’s uncle can help us.”
One phone call in, and the manager on shift immediately had an employee come out to meet us and wave us through every checkpoint.
The staff break room was tucked right behind the bar.
Chloe and I changed into the black shirt-and-vest server uniforms, slid the lounge’s signature half-face masks over our features, picked up a tray each, and walked calmly straight to the VIP booth’s door. I knocked.
“Good evening. Your drinks are here.”
The door swung open. Vanessa lay half-collapsed on the couch, eyes hooded. The man had just sat back down, and instantly her pale arm draped around his neck.
“I want more…” Her voice dripped like honey.
I set the glasses down one by one, angling the miniature camera pinned to my collar as steadily as I could at the two of them.
Vanessa had shed every trace of the demure girl she’d played in front of my parents. She didn’t seem to care that there were strangers in the room either — she just wrapped herself around the man and started kissing him, sloppy and expert all at once. She was clearly no rookie.
I calmly set down the last glass, and just before things really started, Chloe and I quietly slipped back out.
Those spy cams had earned every dollar. The few hundred I’d swiped off my debit card weren’t wasted.
Back in the staff room, I pulled up the playback — the picture was so sharp I could count the tiny rhinestones on Vanessa’s lashes, and the audio didn’t miss a syllable.
I slapped Chloe a satisfied high-five.