Petty walked into the club with her coworkers, feeling the familiar thrum of music vibrating through the floor. She recognized the owner right away. Galen was not just anyone—he was Franco’s best friend.
Night was one of the hottest spots in Cabinda, and like almost every big-name club in the city, it belonged to the Carter family. Getting a booth here was basically a miracle, but Jared had somehow pulled it off. The spot was perfect, tucked just enough away from the crowd but close to the action.
“Come on, everyone, grab a seat. Drinks are on me, order whatever you like,” Jared called out as everyone slid into the booth.
Amy slid into the seat across from Petty, barely glancing up as she said, “Some people here really can’t hold their liquor. Hope whoever it is remembers that and doesn’t try to keep up just to show off.”
Her eyes flicked to Petty, not even trying to hide it.
Everyone in the news department knew Petty was terrible with alcohol. But that had never stopped her from joining in on every toast, always laughing the loudest, never holding back. At first, people just assumed she was a pro. How else could someone drink like that so fearlessly? Then came the infamous night of the lamppost confession. Petty, completely wasted, had wrapped herself around a light pole and started gushing out a declaration of love. It was legendary, for all the wrong reasons.
Jared grinned and nudged Amy. “What, worried about her?”
Amy shot back, “Who’s worried? Not me!” She practically bounced in her seat, cheeks pink.
Petty just grinned, grabbed a piece of fruit, and popped it in her mouth, giving Amy a mischievous little eyebrow wiggle.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Amy’s voice was half a squeak.
Petty just widened her eyes, all innocence. “I didn’t do anything.”
Amy huffed, twisting away, pretending to chat with the others, but she kept sneaking glances at the drinks piling up in front of Petty. She hadn’t forgotten how last time, when Petty was on her way to making a scene with the lamppost, Amy had been the one to pull her off. Instead of saying thanks, Petty had just collapsed into her arms and cried for what felt like forever. Not that Petty ever admitted to it after.
Typical.

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