Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1)(26)
I shrugged. “Not sure, mate. I need to take a look at my schedule.”
He perked up at that, the wanker.
I didn’t pay attention when he rattled off the details, but then he was waving goodbye and I had Andie’s attention again. She turned and flashed me a little smile, a nothing smile that told me she knew more than she was letting on.
“You’re kind of territorial. Do you realize that?”
No one had ever accused me of that before. I’d never acted the role of the jealous boyfriend. I narrowed my eyes, feigning confusion, and she shook her head.
“Fine. Forget I said anything.” She waved back to the spot on the mat where she’d been doing sit-ups. “Let’s finish up so we can go get ready.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Andie
I’D PACKED A red dress in my luggage as an afterthought. It was short and skimpy, something I’d never wear in my normal life. I found it in an expensive boutique in L.A. and purchased it on a whim. It was hardly more than a few strips of well-placed fabric, but when I slipped it on in the dressing room of the upscale boutique, I felt sexier than I ever had in my life. It was short and thin, made of a light cotton material that didn’t cling to my skin. The front looked innocent enough, though it did hug my hips and cut off fairly high on my thighs. The real detail was in the back—or lack thereof. The dress was a halter that tied behind my neck and wrapped around my waist? leaving most of my back exposed. I’d tried to figure out a bra situation, but the saleswoman at the boutique had assured me you were supposed to wear it sans brassiere. I’d laughed in her face—seeing as how I didn’t do anything “sans brassiere”—but there I sat, in the back of a cab in Rio, letting the girls fly free. I glanced down again, trying to decide if I should cave and turn back to the village. I knew I wouldn’t though; I felt just as sexy as I had in the dressing room in L.A. The dress felt wild, I felt wild, and I wanted one night in Rio where I wasn’t a soccer player competing in the Olympics, but a twenty-one-year-old girl out for a night on the town.
“What is this place anyway?” Michelle asked as we pulled up at the address Nathan had given Freddie and I at the gym. The building itself looked unassuming, nothing more than a warehouse really, and if there hadn’t been a line of people winding around the building waiting to get in the front door, I’d have assumed we were at the wrong place.
“It’s called Mascarada,” I said, handing the driver a few colorful Brazilian bills before sliding out of the back seat after Michelle.
Inviting her had been an afterthought. I’d wanted to go with Freddie, but I hadn’t been able to get ahold of him after the gym. We’d finished our workout and exchanged numbers. I’d asked him about the club; he’d shrugged and said he’d think about it.
I checked my phone one last time as we walked toward the entrance of the club.
Andie: Do you want to ride to the club together?
Freddie: You go ahead. I’m not sure if I’m going.
Andie: Do you want me to wait for you?
I’d sent the last text an hour earlier and he’d never replied. I’d given up hope and invited Michelle so I wouldn’t have to go alone, and as the two of us flashed our athlete badges—Nathan had suggested it as a quick way to bypass the line—I wondered if maybe it was a good thing Freddie wouldn’t be there. I could find a new guy, someone to focus on who wasn’t already spoken for.
“Do you two have masks?” the bouncer asked, handing our badges back to us. I slipped it into my purse and shook my head.
“Are we supposed to?”
“Go in and turn left,” he said, reaching past us for the next I.D. “You’ll find one there.”
Michelle shot me a curious glance as we stepped forward, past the club doors. “What was he talking about? Masks?”
I didn’t have to answer her because the moment we walked into the dark club, it made sense. The club was called Mascarada because it was an actual nightly masquerade. Everyone we passed in the foyer was wearing a mask that covered some or all of their face.
“C’mon,” Michelle said, tugging my arm and leading me to the left where the bouncer had directed us. The hallway was packed with people trying to get to and from a small room at the very end. We pushed through the crowd and I stood frozen as I came face to face with masks in every shape, size, and color. Feathers, glitter, rhinestones, bows, lace. They were beautiful and exotic, and I knew I’d have a hard time picking just one.
“Entra! Come in!” an older woman called from behind a small counter in the back corner of the room. She had white hair, tied up in a severe bun on top of her head. She waved everyone forward, trying to tame the crowd. “Find a mask and then check out with me before you leave.”
Easier said than done.
I reached for a white mask hanging on the wall just past the door. It was glittery, cheap, and a bit obnoxious, but I could hardly move in the room, and I didn’t care enough to shove through the crowd and try on others. Michelle reached for a blue one next to where I’d found mine, and we edged our way toward the back counter to make our purchases.
It was ten or fifteen minutes before we made it to the front of the line. I’d been jostled and shoved more times than I cared to count, but when I dropped my mask on the counter and reached for the extra money in my small clutch, the woman manning the station shook her head.