Black Girls and Bad Boys: Stealing Loretta by Neneh J. Gordon

You too.” He looked
more than good. The top buttons of his shirt were undone and her eyes kept
going back to the well-defined muscle she could see peeking out. He must spend
a serious amount of time at the gym.
    Jordan pulled away from the kerb and she
racked her brains for something to say. “How’s the import-export business
going?” She cringed at herself. What a lame question.
    “Demanding. But I’ve got a deal in the
wings that might make up for it.”
    He gave her such a warm smile she felt like
less of an idiot.
    The drive out of town didn’t even take
twenty minutes. They headed out where the scenery held more trees and fewer
houses.
    “What’s out here?”
    “A party.”
    “Whose party?”
    “Not exactly that kind of party.” He turned
into a dark, narrow track. “Nearly there.” The way opened up little by little
and the moon shone down on an empty field with a huge farmhouse on the other
side of it.
    As they went further along the road, a
heavy beat vibrated through the car and music floated out to them. Jordan took
them right up to the source – a bright red barn with party-goers spilling out
of it.
    A young couple sat kissing on a stack of
hay bales just outside the door. Inside, the darkness was punctuated by
flashing lights in red, yellow, blue, orange, purple.
    They parked up behind a sporty open-top and
got out of the car.
    Loretta’s kitten heels sank into the soft
earth. She walked on the balls of her feet until they got inside where it was a
bit firmer and there was straw spread on the ground. As soon as they stepped
over the threshold, a wall of heat rocked her backwards.
    He leaned in to speak, but she couldn’t
hear him over the music. She shook her head and he took her by the hand,
leading her further inside.
    The whole barn had been made over into
something closely resembling a nightclub. There was even a mirror-ball hanging
from the ceiling.
    “What is this place?” she shouted, but
Jordan couldn’t hear her either. He led her through the crowd and out through a
side door. They came out into a cooler, smaller room that had cans and bottles
of alcohol stacked against the walls. The music was muted from blaring to just
loud.
    “Lager or alcopop?” he asked, helping
himself to a can.
    “Bottle of lager, please.”
    He opened one for her and passed it over.
When she took a sip, it was nice and cold.
    “How come you knew about this place?”
    “Friend of a friend.” He brought his can up
and tapped it against her bottle.
    She was completely at a loss. A nightclub
on a farm. She wouldn’t have guessed that was where they were going if she’d
had all year to think about it. What else did he have up his sleeve? “Is this
an illegal rave, or something?” He had said naughty, after all.
    “If it is, does that mean you want to
leave?”
    “Are we likely to get arrested?”
    He laughed and took a swig of his drink.
“Hasn’t happened so far.”
    “How many of these have you been to?”
    “A few.”
    She sucked on her bottom lip. If she got
arrested, she’d probably lose her job. Next door, the music segued from one
song to another. She looked back over the way they’d come.
    “Want to dance?”
    She nodded. Jordan opened the door for her
and they walked into the humid heat of the disco.
    This was shaping up to be an interesting
night. She’d had him worried for a while back out by the drinks, but he’d been
right about her other side. And all women liked to be corrupted at least a tiny
bit.
    He took her hand and led her out into the
middle of the dancers. The music was too loud for them to talk, but that wasn’t
what he had in mind. When they were right in the thick of things, he turned to
her and moved to the beat. She didn’t join in straight away, but he knew she
was just easing into it.
    She knocked back the last three-quarters of
her beer and tossed the bottle aside. He moved towards her, a grin spreading
across his face. Slowly, she started to dance, swaying her