Call It Business ( Book 3 of 'Call It' Series )

Chapter 15 | Drunken Bets

One challenge, two hours, too many shots, and a lot of wins and chips later, Macy Wallace was positively, ludicrously drunk. Basking under the neon blue atmosphere of the luxury nightclub's terrace, she lounged onto the chaise lounge with her cheek propped against her palm and her legs curled on the velvet surface of her seat.

She absently smoothed the feathers on her gown in an attempt to look disinterested in her surroundings. The whole act was in vain because she was unable to take her glare off the people dancing to the pounding music in the massive pool and sipping their drinks under the night sky on the other side of the red robes and beneath the VIP platform she was at.

Deciding Yves Ward and his ominous claims were a problem for another day, preferably when she wasn't on a fake honeymoon, Macy had dragged Gerard Blanchard to a nightclub in pursuit of Adelaide and Harry to make him forget about omens about the hotels. It had taken some time to convince him that she was fine enough to visit a nightclub, then when he finally granted her wish, he had to point out she needed to sober up a little bit and cage her in a damn VIP platform, under which all the escapades stirred, especially on the foamed dancefloor.

Oddly, she was content with his little, funny vengeance, considering the pool whispered all the unspoken dangers and lots of tiles. She was far from amused, however, since he remained at the bar downstairs after saying "There are a few people I'm obligated to talk to, I'll be back in five minutes."

The time must have passed differently there, and he must have forgotten the meaning of 'obligated' because Macy glanced down to see him there almost an hour later, leaning against the neon-washed counter of the bar, looking absolutely stupid with his unbuttoned, gleaming white shirt and the devilish smirk gracing his lips as he held a small court of men and women around him, all striving for his attention.

Well, this wet, foamed, and deafening nightclub's name was Disillusion, after all, making her guess the hedonist ambiance beneath her seat was terribly cursed and it simply made people, or one particular villain, forget that she existed.

Tipping her head back against the colorful cushions, she closed her eyes for a brief second in an attempt to collect the energy to push off the red robes around her VIP zone, climb down the stairs and pull him out of his adoring audience. At least, that was what her drunk mind daydreamed about through the pounding music and waves of laughter beneath her seat.

Yes, she would go down there and grab his arm to save his bicep from that tall brunette's occasional strokes. Even the supervillain husbands needed help every now and then, and hers was super stupid to save himself, so... It was the noblest action.

"Oh, wow. Gerard asked me to check out if you are okay or not, but I didn't expect to find you completely wasted."

Opening one eye before the judgmental voice, Macy watched Adelaide lift the robe and let herself in. A small smirk tugged at the corner of her plum-colored lips unconsciously, "Maybe he just wanted you to leave him so that he could chat with his fans alone."

Adelaide grimaced, placing her hands on her hips, "God, no one warned me about you being jealous and petty when you are drunk."

Macy tilted her head, pouting, "I'm not jealous."

She sent her a fake smirk, "And I can't tell if you are lying or not." She said with a voice dripped with sarcasm.

Please.

Why would she be jealous? Was there anything to be jealous of?

Her pout deepening on her lips, she sent another glare downstairs and caught the villain laughing at something Mrs. Tall-And-Gorgeous said. Despite the deafening music, Macy could imagine the stupid melody he'd created just fine, and her assumption got itself confirmed when Mrs. Red-Dress gestured to the bubbled dancefloor, clearly inviting him to come with her and laugh on there too. Mrs. Probably-A-Supermodel, on the other hand, had different ideas as she kept pointing at the pool of drunken dangers with her thumb.