Elly looked around the car, realizing instantly why it was so hard for a celebrity on this level to stay sober. And she decided that she would stay with Lola all night, if that’s what it took. Lola Plumb would not end up naked under the arch tonight, not on her watch. She could be the friend Lola needed, not the friends who were trying their best to fling her off the wagon. She shuffled the papers in her hand. “Well, about the navy-blue flowers, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about….” Everything went dark, and then some hidden button was pushed, and suddenly the limo became a haven of spinning lights and club music. “Um, excuse me, I can’t—I can’t see my file?” said Elly, feeling increasingly like a dowdy chaperone.
“Too bad,” someone snapped in the darkness, followed by annoying giggles. Couples began groping each other in the dark, and more alcohol was passed around, each drink more potent than the last. She turned her head so that she could see Lola, who was almost removed from it all, her face focused on the open sunroof, her teary eyes trained on the stars. Poor Lola. Resisting this temptation seemed almost impossible when those around you needed it to continue to have the lifestyle they desired. As the limo roared through the night, Lola began clenching the seat cushion with one hand. Elly reached down and grabbed it in the dark, wrapping her solid fingers around Lola’s tiny hand.
Lola turned her wide eyes to Elly, and Elly could see that in this frenzied light, the gorgeous Lola Plumb looked much older than her years. “Elly?”
“Yup.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
Poor Lola. Elly smiled at her. “Nothing. There is nothing wrong with you.”
“Then why does everyone hate me?”
Elly patted her hand gently. “I don’t hate you. I think that you are the nicest celebrity I have ever met.”
“Am I the only celebrity you’ve ever met?”
“I met a news anchor once.”
Lola laughed. “That’s funny. You’re funny, Elly.”
“You’re the first, but I think you are definitely the best.”
“Thanks.” The rest of the group was whispering to each other, and texting frantically on their phones in between hungry gulps of hard liquor, straight from the bottle. The wispy blond girl pointed a manicured finger at Elly. “You’re killing the mood.”
Elly bit her cheek. “I could care less about your mood. I’m here for business.” She looked back at the girl, who arched her eyebrow like a James Bond girl. “What are you here for, exactly?”
The girl sat back with a huff. “Whatever. They probably won’t even let you into the club.”
“Brittany, shut up,” moaned Lola. “Who are you texting all the time? Every person you know is riding in this limo.”
“Whatever.” Brittany turned away from them and began sloppily kissing one of the redheaded twins.
Ugh. Elly’s empty stomach gave a lurch. The limo came to a hard stop and they tumbled out of the car like drunken clowns, one right after each other, leaving Elly and Lola behind. Elly let Lola get out first, and again there was the blinding lights of the cameras, the screaming of her name, the yelled accusations of cheating, drinking, everything. After Lola passed inside the door, Elly climbed out of the limo. Luckily, no one cared. Elly had never heard of the Supper Club before, which was surprising, since she had heard of almost all of St. Louis’s venues. Whereas the entrance to Pierre’s had been well marked with a popular storefront, the Supper Club was at the back of a warehouse, with only a small hand-painted sign to mark it. It was that cool. Three bouncers let them pass through, eyeing a barefoot Elly with confusion as she walked in while talking quietly to Lola. They walked through two grimy metal doors, and then through a pair of exquisite white curtains. The linen parted and suddenly Elly found herself at a loss for words. The club was like stepping into another world. High ceilings covered with mirrored tiles arched overhead, and just beneath them, a scantily clad aerialist swung by her knees over the crowd, occasionally grabbing someone’s drink from her trapeze bar.
“Oh my gosh, that is so dangerous!” yelped Elly before she could control herself.
Lola’s posse burst out laughing. “Come on, let’s go find the VIP section.” They walked through the middle of the club, which was filled with gorgeous, grinding bodies, all throwing their open hands up to reach for the glistening chandeliers that twirled overhead. Some random arms wrapped themselves around Elly and began dancing behind her. “Uh, no thank you!” she chirped, and removed a hand that was slowly creeping into an inappropriate zone.
A stunning Spanish man in the tightest white T-shirt she had ever seen grinned back at her. “What’s wrong, mama? I love your curves!”
“Thank you for the compliment. I’m just not interested.”