He looks like he might close the space between us. He looks like he wants to.
My brain supplies a dozen sane exits. My body refuses every one.
He looks as if he might kiss me.
So I do something- exactly the kind of crazy I'm proud of but later I reg...
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Time- 8:23PM
"Clara, I don't think this is a nice idea." I say, as she refused to listen to my protests and dragged me to the club. "We aren't supposed to be spying on her! We should give them privacy!"
"Jeez! Ama, chill! We'll just pretend to be there at the same time. We'll just act as if it was a coincidence." Clara threw me an exaggerated look of annoyance, and there's no stopping her.
"A coincidence? We're calling that now?" I nearly shout, stopping myself before I create a scene.
Flashback- Time: 7:18PM
"How long has this been going on for?" I asked her, to which she just shrugs and said, "That my dear is what we are gonna find out."
"Okay, but how do we do this? We can't just follow Sophie!" I said, trying to remove the idea of it from her head.
she smirked, stirring her coffee like a true mastermind. "Oh, we won't follow her. We'll just... be in the right place at the right time."
I narrowed my eyes. "You already have a plan, don't you?"
"Maybe." She batted her lashes innocently. "Sophie's been very secretive lately, but I heard her mention this club downtown today– when she thought no one was listening." Before I could ask anything, Clara continued. "Get ready, we are leaving. I am wearing your clothes."
Back to present-
I agreed with her, well yes I did. But I am not at fault. Completely. I didn't regret it, until I glanced at the club. This place is too cool for us. Way too... cool. Its like for celebrities who don't care about anything but their next big connection.
The kind of people who never have to pay for their drinks, because the bartender knows their name, their brand, their latest scandal.
But Clara is still tugging me along, the sparkle of her excitement lighting up her face. We're dressed in black bodycons and boots- hers reaching just above her knee, mine a little shorter, stopping at mid-thigh with boots stopping right below my knees.
I glance at Clara, who's grinning like she knows something I don't, like she's loving every second of this. Me? I'm freaking out.
"Do you realize what kind of people come here?" I mutter, trying not to sound too paranoid. "We don't have connections. We don't even know how to make connections in a place like this."
Clara pauses for a moment, her grin widening. She flicks a lock of her blonde hair over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with that mischievous sparkle she gets when she knows something I don't.
We enter the club, the heavy bass of the music vibrating through the floor, the lights flashing in time with the beat, and the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and alcohol. This was pretty common for me as my parents are high-classed fashion designers in Paris.
