The Arrangement 12 (The Ferro Family) Read Online Free Page B

over to the pole and basically do the same dance. I feel the music pulse through me and don’t care who’s watching me.
    Glancing over at Sidney, I see her swish her hair in a circle and copy the movement with her hips. She laughs and looks over at me just in time to see me grab the pole, and kick my legs up. I wrap my thighs around the cold metal and lock my ankles together, before releasing my hands, and hanging upside down. As I slowly slip down the pole I reach for the floor, and when my palms find a firm footing, I kick off the pole and land on my feet. I put my hands over my head like a gymnast and smile.
    That’s when I hear Mel’s voice. “I leave you alone for a couple of hours and you start stripping?” I hear her heels hitting the ha rd floor as she walks toward us. “What the fuck is going on here?”
    “Mel?” I shield my eyes and walk to the edge of the stage. Sidney stops dancing and Trystan stands up, ready to throw her out. I hop off and plow into her. Wrapping my arms around her, I say, “I’m so glad you’re all right. I thought you—” My jaw tightens and I can’t say the words. I can’t tell her that I thought I lost her.
    “Who is this?” Trystan demands. He folds his arms over his chest and looks back at the door where the others are still talking, and occasionally yelling.
    Mel escapes my death hug and rounds on him, ready to tell him off. “Don’t you go talking to me like I’m some…” Her jaw drops when she sees Trystan. Mel’s caramel eyes widen and don’t blink.
    I poke her shoulder. “Mel, this is Trystan. He hates Sean.”
    “So do I,” she mutters.
    I say, “Yeah, well, then you guys have something in common.”
    Trystan smirks, and then clarifies. “Why is she here?”
    “Because I told her to come.”
    Trystan sighs and looks up at the ceiling before running his hands over his head. “Great. Jon’s going to kill me. No one is supposed to be out here but me and Sidney , and I told his bouncer to go home. I assume Sean’s coming?” Trystan turns his gaze to me and I nod. “Great.” He turns and walks away, flopping back down onto the chair.
    Mel is gaping and pointing. “That’s Trystan Scott.”
    “I know. Are you all right? What happened?”
    She doesn’t look at me. “That’s Trystan Scott. Like, thee Trystan Scott. Here.”
    Oh my God. How cute. Mel is star stuck. She stands there like a twelve-year-old, practically giddy. I look her over and don’t see any gaping wounds. There’s no blood, and her brain has obviously left her body. “Listen, tonight kind of sucked. Grab a drink and join us on stage when you get over your whole boy band crush.”
    “I’m not a boy band.” Trystan glares at me with his mouth scrunched to the side.
    I smirk. “Of course not.”
    Trystan’s lips twitch as he tries not to smile, or curse me out—it’s getting hard to tell which one. I walk over to our table and pour another shot for each of us, before walking it over to him. His long legs are sprawled over the arm of the chair like a surly teenager. I hold out the glass.
    His dark eyes stare at the drink for a beat too long, but he finally takes it. “Just for the record,” he says, staring at the floor, “I admire you.” His gaze flicks up and he lifts his glass.
    What changed? I’m not about to ruin it and ask him. Maybe he has rock star PMS. “Well, coolness.” I smile at him, sincerely this time, and look at my shot glass. “And just for the record, I’m a total fangirl. Your music is awesome, plus you have guts. So, I guess I admire you, too.” I lift my face so he’s looking right at me. “Truce? Or is it too late?” I hold out my hand, hoping he’ll shake it.
    That smirk teases his lips into a full grin. “I couldn’t hate the future Mrs. Ferro, not when it’ll piss off Sean to know exactly how much I like you.” He laughs, clinks his glass to mine, and downs his drink. I do the same and head back to the stage.
    As I pass Mel, she’s