Page 2 of Ruthless

I toe off my clogs, strip off my pants, and grab the clean pair. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Her hurricane-force exhale promises yet another argument. She’ll ask why I won’t let her set me up with one of the many dateable guys she knows, and I’ll remind her of my responsibilities toward Jeremy.

She always follows with a lecture about how my twenty-two-year-old brother has a full-time job and can worry about himself, to which I lovingly reiterate my complete disinterest in dating, hooking up, or even interacting with the opposite sex outside of work. Then we agree to disagree until she broaches the topic again and we repeat the process.

Angela smirks. “Who knows, maybe I’ll find Mr. Right at the club tonight.”

My shoulders droop a little. After this shift, I just want to go home and watch TV on the couch with Jeremy before conking out. A noisy, crowded dance club full of drunk people sounds like torture.

Especially today, of all days. “About that. Are you sure?—”

“Don’t even think about trying to back out.” Angela props her hands on her hips. “You promised. Besides, when’s the last time you cut loose and had some fun?”

Best not to reply, given the extremely depressing answer. “A club, though?”

“If you don’t meet me there, I swear I’ll march straight to your apartment and drag you out. You need this, and I don’t want to go to a new club all by myself.”

I cave, mentally berating myself for my selfishness. “I don’t want you to do that either. I’ll be there.”

If I’m lucky, maybe Angela will meet someone soon after we arrive. I can hang out for a few songs to ensure he doesn’t give off psycho-killer vibes, ask to snap a photo of his driver’s license, and then leave after issuing dire threats about Angela’s safety.

A girl can dream, anyway.

When my shift ends that afternoon, I gather my belongings and head outside toward the subway station. As I slip into the crowd, the back of my neck prickles. I glance over my shoulder to find nothing but a bunch of tourists and white-collar workers hurrying down the sidewalk as if a monster nipped at their heels. None of them seem interested in me.

Okay, that’s it. No more horror movies for me. Ever since that last one that Jeremy picked about demons hunting travelers in an Airbnb located over a portal to hell, I’ve been feeling like someone’s watching me. No one ever is. Probably because it’s all in my head.

Then again, you can’t be too careful in the city.

I rub my neck and continue walking, but the sensation persists all the way to the station.

When I arrive home, the apartment’s empty, but by the time I’ve showered and donned into the scandalously short green dress Angela loaned me, the TV’s playing.

“Hey, Jer, you home?”

He hollers back from the living room. “No, it’s just your friendly neighborhood burglar, watching an episode ofBig Bang Theorybefore I ransack the place. You don’t mind, right?”

I can almost hear Jeremy’s eye roll from here. “Smartass.”

“Yes, but you love me anyway,” he quips.

I huff but don’t bother to deny it as I inspect my reflection. The full-length mirror, like most of our furniture, is thrift store chic because of the ludicrous price tag of shipping all our belongings back to New York. Upon our return, Jeremy and I spent most of our weekends at secondhand shops and estate sales in search of deals.

The resulting hodgepodge of colors and styles combines Jeremy’s fun-loving personality with my more practical taste. If we didn’t live together, I wonder if he would have rememberedto buy curtains for the windows or a living room rug. I splurged on the mirror, the ornate gothic frame well worth the extra cost.

After one last tug at my skirt, I grab my purse and venture out. Jeremy’s sprawled on the couch with his feet kicked up. My brother and I have the same honey blond hair as our late mother, and I have to refrain from reaching out to fix his cowlick like I used to when he was younger.

He glances away from the screen and whistles. “Damn, sis. Hot date?”

“Please. I promised Angela I’d meet her at a new dance club.”

His eyes bulge comically wide. “You? Go to a noisy club and stay out past your bedtime? Who are you really, and what have you done with my sister?”

I scowl. “I’m not that old, you know. Is it really such a stretch for me to go out dancing late?”

He snickers before his expression softens. “Yes. But I’m happy you’re getting out. I have news too. Guess who talked to the CEO of SilverTech today?” Without giving me a chance to reply, he steamrolls on. “He came in for a board meeting and called me aside, byname, to tell me how impressed he was with my analyses of our last several programs. He wants to introduce me to the president of the company. The actual founder, Sara. They might even take me off nights!”

“Oh, wow.” I give him an encouraging smile. “That’s great, Jeremy.”