All Chapters of Another side of Her: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

SinclairLena and I ended up getting into endless rounds of drinks. I wondered if she didn’t have to work the next day, but I decided not to ask. I barely knew her, so it was really none of my business. “I’m gonna go, man. I called your driver and he’s around to take you home.” Lucas said over the loud music.“You headed home?” I asked him. “Nah. I’m going back to Mimi’s place.” He winked at me. “you planning on going to Lena’s place?”“No.” “I cannot wait to hear about this woman who broke you, and yet you’re still faithful to.” He raised a brow at me. I just shrugged because there was really nothing I could say to that.“Oh my God! Stop reminding him of her. He was doing so well now.” Lena said, shooting Lucas a glare. He raised his hands in surrender. “My bad.”“how are you going to get home?” Mimi asked her friend.“I’ll take her home.” I said. Mimi nodded at me and then the two walked off.“And then there were two.” Lena giggled drunkenly. The music suddenly changed and sh

LondonAfter cleaning and mopping, I grabbed the trash bags and hurled them out to the alley way at the back of the club. It was Willow’s job to take out the trash, but she was always trying to weasel her way out of it and letting the trash pile up. As the newest member of the team, it had become my unofficial job to pick up the slack after everybody. That included taking care of Willow’s trash duty. I honestly didn’t mind. The bin was literally a foot away from the club building. I had been warned about the exit door. Jane was supposed to have informed the boss by now about the faulty door, but she spent all her time making moon eyes at him. As far as I was concerned, the boss needed to let Jane go. Her work ethics were shit and she was far too infatuated with him to be of any use. We weren’t supposed to let the door shut all the way because it couldn’t be opened from the outside. Someone from the inside would either come and let you in or you had to go all the way around the buil

LondonI was already feeling wrung out by the emotional coaster of the day. It wasn’t even two pm yet and so much had already happened. My hasty ride back to New York, finding out that my boss was none other than Jay Riggs and that apparently his wife was mad at me because she had run into my sister who had most definitely treated her like dirt, combine that with almost being killed in an alley and then being saved by a friend of one of Cath’s exes, it was a whole lot. At least it was over and I could settle into doing my job at the club. Jane had already informed me that I wasn’t going to be let off my shift regardless of what had happened, defending her insensitivity by stating that I hadn’t gotten hurt. The thing was, I could have been and that incident would have been quite a shock to anyone. I wasn’t even in the right mind space to process it, but I knew that I would, eventually. And the gravity of what had almost been would really horrify me. For now, my head was stuck on co

LondonTwo days after the incident where I’d almost met my death at the back alley of The Prism, Eva finally called me. It was almost six pm and I was cleaning out the place to get ready to go home. Each person’s shift was a two day interconnected series, and most of the time, by the second day of slinging drinks and dealing with less than polite customers, with little to no breaks in between you were ready to start screaming your head off. My back hurt, my neck hurt, my knees hurt. Honestly, this job would be the death of me one day. On the plus side, after the two relentless days came one full lazy day which of recent I’d been occupying with working on my new, exciting book. I was pleased to see that my excitement over the new book hadn’t yet waned and I was making amazing progress. “Hey, how are you?”“hey.” She sounded distracted. “are you busy tonight?” “no.” thank God. “why?”“it’s my birthday…”“oh my God, really? Happy birthday. You never said anything.” I chided her.“I’m

LondonStatic buzzed in my ear at her words. March Madness had what? “I d-don’t understand. What are you talking about?” I stammered. March Madness was my singular published book, and it was a raging failure. Only about ten copies of it had been bought since it’s release two years ago. The horrible sales had made me depressed for the longest time, and my editor had also cut off ties with me afterwards. And now, she was telling me that it had sold out? I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. “Your book, March Madness.” She clarified, her voice never loosing that edge of excitement. I understood her excitement. My book suddenly making it big was like Christmas to her, it meant that she was about to line her pockets with some serious cash. And so was I. “It’s just become an overnight sensation. Six thousand copies were bought and now it’s on the New York bestseller list. Not on the top three, but I believe it could actually get there.” “Oh.” I said stupidly. “As I’m talk