Wicked Destiny - By Tiffany Stevens Page 0,4

even tell Shay I owned the nightclub we worked. And she wanted me to have a real boyfriend.

Right.

Walking over to the closet, I dragged out the black leather corset that I bought and my new skinny jeans. I already knew I was wearing what I liked to call my hooker boots, but I needed a belt. Looking through the drawer full of buckles, I settled on my brass knuckle belt with shiny, fake diamonds on it. Yep, I was going to look straight HAWT tonight. Not to mention the awesome black leather jacket that went well with the corset.

I went to take a shower first, knowing the job of straitening my hair would take some time. It was already almost five o’ clock and Shay and I ate together every Friday before heading to the club. She had started seeing someone and I wasn’t sure she would bring him along just to assure me that keeping a guy longer than one night had its benefits. But wasn’t mad at her. As long as she was happy and he helped make her happy, I was fine with it. I quickly texted her back and asked where we were eating.

Me: Where R we meeting?

Shay: Thinking the Cannon

Me: 7:00?

Shay: Yea

Me: K

Now that it was settled, all I had to do was make sure I was on time, because I knew how much Shay hated being late. So, off into the shower I went.

Once out of the shower, I started doing my make-up, and then my hair. Finishing, I couldn’t help but just look at myself in the mirror. Who was I kidding? I was lonely and keeping this tough girl act up was taking its toll on me. Here I was, dying my hair all kind of colors and any time I got the chance, I was tattooing something new on my body. This week my hair was blonde on top with black in the middle and dark blue on the bottom. Everyone looked forward to see what I‘d do to it nest and my latest artwork was a pair of black angelic wings with white tips that basically covered a great deal of my back. Not to mention the scorpion that was on my foot for my zodiac sign, the tramp stamp on my lower back and a fairy on the back of my neck. The only other body piercing I had besides my ears was the one in my right eyebrow.

Putting my clothes on, I couldn’t help but admire how good the finished product looked. Here I stood like something out of a motorcycle magazine with a black leather corset, low rise jeans, and leather knee high boots with candy apple red lips. Who wouldn’t notice me?

Attention was what I wanted and, believe me, that’s what I got. A little bit of flirting never hurt anyone, especially in my line of work considering I’m a bartender-slash-secret-club-owner. Anyone could say what they wanted, but it felt good to walk into a room and know that there were always a set of eyes on you. Not just men, either, women too. Women either sized you up or wished they were you. The men, well, they fantasized or condemned, but in reality—give the opportunity to the condemning ones and they’d certainly rise to the occasion, if you know what I mean.

Walking around the loft, I made sure I had everything and slid on my jacket, digging my keys out of my purse. Just when I was about to hit the door, I heard my phone ringing from my nightstand.

“Hello?”

There was no answer. Oh, well. I stuck it in my purse and locked everything up. My loft was just one block away from the club, so I usually walked to work, especially since I always drank while on duty. That’s another big no-no, but again, I was the owner and I would do what I wanted to do. The restaurant that I was meeting Shay at was right across the street from the club, so I picked up my pace before she started blowing up my phone.

Walking out the double doors that led outside of the loft, I was sure I saw a new tenant moving in. Just so I could stand there a little longer without looking like a total stage-five clinger, I acted like I was looking for something in my purse. He was taking boxes off the moving truck and setting them on the sidewalk, and his t-shirt was thrown over his