Worst Impressions

Chapter Thirty Seven

Club 51 was in the heart of the city. The line outside was staggering. It wound around the building and was full of beautiful people swathed in expensive clothes and glittering jewellery. Although Freddie had dressed me up, I had little idea of us gaining entry. Most of the women walking through the doors had legs that went on forever and boasted flawless bodies only usually flaunted by top models. I looked like a child by comparison.

'Don't let go of my arm and keep your head up. Avoir du courage!' Freddie said.

It was hard to feel confident and upbeat when I wanted to hit William with a chair. In my head, scenarios in which I could cause him serious harm ran on a loop. They were becoming increasingly violent, and I was having some difficulty blocking them out. He wasn't even with us, and he was managing to ruin our night.

Ruining my entire life.

Freddie waved over the bouncer and smiled at him as he approached. The guy was built like a wrestler. If he was going to flirt his way in, then he was either going to make a new friend or end up in the hospital with a feeding tube. Either way, I didn't think I wanted to watch.

As it happened, it wasn't either. With no attempt to check our identification, or to turn us away, the man let us straight through. Freddie strode into the club and took me down the velvet-carpeted steps without uttering a word.

'Did I mention,' he shouted over the noise after we'd checked our coats at the bottom, 'that my father owns this place?'

I punched his arm. 'You could have mentioned that before!'

'But you're so mignon when you're scared.'

'You're a dick, Freddie.'

'Oui, but you love me anyway, just like all the beautiful ladies. Come, we can use the VIP section.'

The canopy of the club was adorned with red neon light, casting a ruby glow down upon the patrons. Blue strobe flashes appeared in time with certain beats during the DJ's set, and I was soon tapping my feet in time to it when we took our seats on the plush sofas. There were a lot of them in the room, with some smaller dance areas between for private use, and then a larger, open floor for mingling. Every table had a large glass flute shaped basin of ice with bottles of champagne or beer nestled in them.

'What are you drinking?' he asked.

'Aren't you driving later?'

'We'll get a cab. It's all on the house. Drink until you don't care about whatever I said to make you so annoyed.'

Although he had said it, it wasn't really Freddie's fault that I was angry. I just wished that I had heard about it some other time. We were having a great day until that point. I supposed it was partly my fault for asking about Charlie in the first place, but I'd wanted to know how he was, and if Jenny had any chance of seeing him again. If William kept getting in the way, they'd never be together.

God, I hated him.

All the time.

I would never stop hating him unless he put things right, and even then, I would probably still feel some resentment for the pompous git.

Drinking to get over my issues wasn't the best way to deal with things. Legally, I could drink back in England, but after seeing what kind of person my mother turned into after a few bottles, I'd resolved never to lose control while under the influence. Still, I was angry enough to make an exception just once. Besides, it wasn't like it was costing me anything, and Freddie wouldn't let anything bad happened to me while I was under his care. I trusted that we'd make it back to the house in one piece.