Chapter 9 - Sibling Rivalry

Aimee left on her date that wasn't really a date, leaving Karla alone. Karla hated being alone. After pacing around the apartment for a while trying to find something to do with herself, she decided the night called for alcohol and dancing, even if it was Sunday. She began to rummage around in her closet, looking for the outfit that would keep her from having to pay for her own drinks. Men were always so eager to help a slutty-looking girl. In the end, she chose a pair of white jeans, with holes in very strategic places, which hugged her ass almost as tight as her skin. She wore a blue blouse that tied in the front and fell open over the top of her breasts, revealing quite a bit of the softness of her round globes, and left her tummy exposed.

As she was running a brush through her hair, her cell phone went off. The number wasn't in her contacts, which she thought odd. "Hello?"

"Karla Harper? This is Mitch Greenway. Brad asked me to reach out to you about your sister's car."

"Oh, yes, hey, thanks for calling." She almost forgot Brad would be giving her phone number out instead of Aimee's. Hell, she almost forgot why she hooked up with Brad in the first place. Not that he hadn't been worth it. She was still sore from their after-hours activities. With a deep breath, Karla switched from rushing to get out of there to the sexy damsel in distress. "Will you be able to take a peek at it for us? Brad seemed to think very highly of your work."

Mitch laughed into the phone. "Brad's a great guy, but he wouldn't know an alternator from a battery if his life depended on it. Can you swing the car by my shop tomorrow? I'm located out on Hillshire."

"Sure. What time?"

"As early as you can. The sooner I get my hands on it, the sooner I can peek under your hood." His tone was playful, and Karla was sure Brad had filled him in on their evening last night. Mitch Greenway was flirting without being too obvious, just in case Karla wasn't interested or was actually serious about Brad. Sneaky. She liked sneaky.

"I'll be sure to have it there when you open your doors. It's always nice to have a man under the hood who knows what he's doing."

"I'm sure it is."

"I'll make sure it's there," Karla repeated, and then thought it was time to flirt back. "I'm rushing out the door right now for some dancing and music. The night calls for adventure."

"And what night doesn't? Where do you usually club at?"

"The old Sand Dune right off A1A. You can't beat a bar on the beach. The inside has the music and booze, and the outside has the romantic setting. A fun combination with the right person."

"Sounds like a good time. Brad tagging along?"

"Playing it solo tonight. Sometimes, it's fun to see what fish are still lurking in the deeper waters."

He laughed, his voice deep, masculine. "Well, have fun and I'll see you tomorrow morning. If I don't bump into you tonight, that is. You make Sand Dune sound very enticing."

I bet I did, Mr. Greenway. You'll be there. Of that, I have no doubt. "I'll see you in the morning if not sooner, then. Thanks again."

He said his goodbye and hung up. Karla tossed her phone in her purse and snatched up her keys. If she didn't see Mitch Greenway at the club, she would be completely surprised. If men were anything, they were predictable.

The night was cool as Karla weaved her way through traffic down A1A. She didn't exaggerate when she said Sand Dune possessed it all. She remembered a few nights that started in the bar only to end with her bare ass in the sand and some man who bought her drinks pounding into her. Sex on the beach was not just a cocktail. It was, however, amazing as the waves crashed nearby and the wind caressed your skin like a third lover joining in the romp. The sand was a scratchy mess afterward, but during the sex you didn't care. All you cared about was getting laid. She laughed to herself as she pulled into the parking lot. Karla, girl, you sound like a typical male.

Sand Dune wasn't as busy as she would have liked, but then again, it was a Sunday night. She waved to Paul behind the bar and he nodded at her. Her usual would be at her side in a moment. Hopefully, it would be the only drink she would pay for all night. Of course, a little sweetness and cleavage tossed Paul's way would guarantee she wouldn't even need to pay for that drink, but she'd wait and see how the night panned out before using her tits on him. He was her Old Faithful. He wasn't bad in the sack, either.

She leaned back on the bar, facing the dance floor. Men were not the only ones who prowled the clubs. They were, however, at a disadvantage. Women possessed more tools in their tool bag for pick-ups. She found herself smiling. The one with the vagina always controls the night, and Karla Harper was always in control.

"Here you go, gorgeous," Paul said, as he slid a rum and Coke beside her. "Any lucky man tonight or are you just trolling to see what pops up."

She took a sip of her drink, as she batted her eyes at him. "What? You don't think I came here to see you?"

He laughed as he wiped down a small section of the bar with a white towel. "I know you better than that. However, I'll be here at closing if you strike out. The pickings are pretty slim tonight." That was an understatement. "Hey, you still looking for a gig? One of our bartenders is moving to Miami."

She glanced back over her shoulder at him. "Sure. When do I start?"

He laughed as he leaned on the bar. "Slow down, princess. You need to be interviewed first. I know you can down the drinks, but can you pour them? Pop by sometime during the week and we'll talk about it."

"You've got it," she said, knowing she'd have no problem with the interview. Paul just wanted her alone. She gave him points for creativity.