"Are you seriously not going to speak to me?" May huffed, frantically trying to keep up with her furious friend in her stiletto sandals.

Amelia remained quiet, concentrating on the path ahead. She has already made a wrong turn on her way to the nightclub. The nightclub.

"Amelia, come on. How many times do I have to say I am sorry?"
"Ameeliaaaaa!" May moaned pitifully.

"He could have been a serial killer, May!" Amelia threw over her shoulder, refusing to slow down.
"I can't believe you did this to me. Of all the things, this must be the absolute worst."

"Please, Amelia, I didn't think he would actually- "

Amelia swung around, an angry finger waving wildly in the air, and May abruptly came to a halt.
"You never think, May. That is the problem. You dragged me here on this freaking expensive holiday, you knew I couldn't afford it, to what? Get bamboozled by you and some jerk you met in a bar?"

May pulled a face. "Not exactly."

"May, you got swindled by a stranger you met in a bar while you were drunk. You sold me, May. You fucking sold me to a stranger!"

"Could you at least tell if the sex was good?"

Amelia threw her hands into the air and hastily walked away. It was honestly taking all her control not to throttle her best friend. Check that. Ex-best friend.

A familiar-looking glass door caught her eyes and stopped. Her heart suddenly pounded wildly.

What was she doing here anyway? What was the chance he was going to be here?

Her hand reached for the door handle.

And if he was? What was she going to do? Yell at him? Slap him?

Was she angry because she found out Nick had paid to have sex with her? Or was she angry he had left the way he did? Or both?

"Amelia?"

"Fuck off, May." She pulled open the door and stepped inside.

*
Amelia had remained uncertainly in the foyer of the club for several agonizing minutes, before gathering enough courage to enter. It was late afternoon, but the club was already crowded with locals and holidaymakers. She carefully maneuvered through the bodies, her eyes constantly searching.

And then she froze.

"Hey, sweetheart. If you are thinking of banging that, get in line."

Amelia turned to the man who had bumped into her.

"There is a list of women a mile long who want to get in the pants of Nicolas Wolf. And, believe me, some men too," he continued and took a sip from the beer in his hand.

"He isn't really my type," Amelia murmured, wiping her suddenly clammy hands on her jeans.

"Oh, okay, just thought at the way you were staring at him," the man shrugged.

"I wasn't staring," she grimaced and hurriedly turned away, heading in a direction that was not towards Nick.

Fuck. What the hell was she doing?

Amelia spotted an empty booth and quickly dashed for it. She shuffled into the furthest corner and shut her eyes. She needed to regain control. Her heart was hammering so hard in her chest it might explode. She slowly opened her eyes only to lock them on Nick directly in front of her.

He was standing at the edge of the table, his head slightly cocked, and frowning at her.

"Amelia?"

She swallowed.
"Nick," she acknowledged.

"What are you doing here?"

She bit her lip. How the fuck did she answer that?

"I have told you before, you shouldn't do that," he warned, and her teeth sank deeper drawing blood.

"Ow, fuck," Amelia cried, touching her lip.

She jerked when Nick suddenly appeared beside her and cupped her face, his thumb lightly touching her bottom lip.
"Are you okay?"

Amelia blinked, too stunned to move.

"What are you doing here, Amelia?" He asked softly.

"I-I want to-to know w-why," she stammered.

His eyes narrowed and he stiffened.

"Why?"

"Yes, why," she twisted her face out of his hands angrily, "yes, Nick, why you paid to have sex with me? And why you left this." She reached into her jeans front pocket and withdrew the necklace, dropping it onto the table.

Nick sighed and picked up the delicate piece of jewelry. He sat back in the seat, dangling the necklace between his fingers.
"Can I ask you to allow me to explain and not say or do anything until I am done? Then you can scream, slap me, walk away, or whatever."

Amelia's opened her mouth, an angry retort on the tip of her tongue, but then she relented.

Isn't this what she wanted?

"Okay, Nick," she inhaled deeply, "I am giving you ten minutes."

A smile curved on the corners of his lips.

That was all he needed.

"Amelia, do you believe in love at first sight?"

The End.