Under Their Eyes

Chapter 2

"This is the worst idea you've had in a long time," I told my best friend dryly as I applied my mascara.

Chanelle scoffed at me, busily applying her own makeup.

"You're whining is getting annoying," she said, flicking her blush brush in my direction, making the makeup dust particles fly in my face.

Chanelle Brewer is, and has been, my best friend, and roommate, since my sophomore year of college. We've been through a lot together, and I know that I could count on her for anything. We currently share an apartment together in New York City. She doesn't know about my job. She thinks I'm a credit analysis for some company, which is the cover for the entire organization. I would love to tell her, to tell all of my loved ones, but that information could possibly kill them.

That's a risk I'm not willing to take.

I sighed and screwed the cap on my mascara.

"Seriously Nell, I'm not really felling going out tonight. I have a lot of work to catch up on," I tried to explain.

Chanelle rolled her eyes, putting on ruby red lipstick.

"Listen coño, you are twenty two years old. I don't know how much work you credit analysts get, but not nearly enough to not go out and enjoy yourself. Besides, I'm not going out by myself. So get your ass in gear," she said, giving me a glare.

I glared right back, going into my closet and pulling out a pair of wedges.

I had planned to read up on the case files early tonight.

"I'm getting sick of your attitude, Brewer," I called out to her, sliding into my heels and smoothing out my black, bodycon dress.

I walked out of the closet to see her in front of the full-length mirror, running her hands over her behind.

"Man, I wish I had an ass," she whined, sliding her dress down more.

"You do have an ass," I pointed out, spraying perfume on.

"I'm talking about a JLO booty babe. This barely passes for big."

I rolled my eyes, tossing a pillow at her. I heard her swear as it hit her in the head, successfully messing up her hair.

I didn't stay in the room long enough for her to curse me out.

I hustled to the front door, sliding on my coat and hearing my phone go off. It was the cab company alerting us that they had arrived.

"Let's go, flat ass! The cab is here!"

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The cab pulled up to La Reina, a rooftop bar and club in Manhattan.

Chanelle and I slid out of the car, walking into the fancy looking building. I immediately pulled Chanelle toward the bar, hearing her sounds of protest behind me.

"Puta! There's a cute ass guy over there that I want to talk to," she whined, tugging her hand out of mine.

I sighed dramatically and put my hands up in surrender.

"Fine, leave your poor, defenseless girlfriend in the middle of a bar. That sounds great."

"Consider this payback for the flat ass comment," she sang as she grinned, and started walking toward some tall, Indian man.

I huffed and headed to the bar, ordering my usual gin and tonic. I scoped out the bar as I sipped my drink, just observing people.

The dance floor was full of people, including my best friend. She was grinding on the same man I saw her walk over to when we arrived.