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I run my palms over her naked arms, relishing the way her skin pebbles at my touch, and nod my head toward an empty section of the couch. “How about we get some alcohol in you first?”
As soon as we take a seat, a server is at our side. She’s a short woman around Esme’s age, with pale skin and mousy brown hair, squeezed in a skin-tight bodysuit that barely contains her ample chest. “What can I get you g— Esme?”
Besides me, Esmeralda goes rigid. She mumbles, fidgeting with the hem of her silky dress.
The server giggles. “Man, I almost didn’t recognize you, wearing a dress like that.”
Even without knowing their history, I can tell it’s not meant to be a compliment. Esmeralda reels back from the woman as if the words were a physical lashing, and curls into her shoulders.
“Yes, well, I…” she starts, then sighs and leaves the sentence hanging.
The server crosses her arms under her chest, pushing up her breasts. “I thought you’d moved?”
“I did. I have. I’m here temporarily,” Esmeralda confirms. “Dealing with some family matters.”
The other woman scoffs. “Sure you’re not running from some new mysterious apparition?” She sticks her arms out in front of her and makes a wooing sound, then laughs.
Esmeralda crumples the hem of her dress in her fists. “Uhm, yes, I’m sure.”
The woman waves a hand in the air. “Joking, of course. What are friends for if not joking about old times?”
“We’re not…” Esmeralda sighs again. “Yes, right. Of course.”
Something about watching Esmeralda be made so small, ridiculed by this unremarkable woman has my blood boiling. Logically, I know she’s just my prey, that I’m doing much worse to her by pretending to be her friend, someone she can trust. But the way the woman ridicules Esmeralda, as if knowing she’ll never fight back, drives me feral.
“Can we get our drink orders, please? Isn’t that your job?”
The woman turns to me with her eyes wide, mouth agape. “I… what…” She shakes her head and a relaxed smile returns to her lips. “What can I do for you?”
Her innuendo is hardly subtle, and I’m not sure if she’s trying to get under Esmeralda’s skin or if she truly finds me appealing, but either way I don’t care to find out. Without even prying in, I know this woman’s mind is as ugly as her words.
“Scotch, single malt. Neat.” I turn to my little prey. “Esmeralda?”
She startles, as if she’d been somewhere else entirely, then picks up the menu and scans it.
“A martini?” Her order sounds more like a question.
“Coming up,” the server says before returning her attention to me, as if Esmeralda wasn’t there. “Sure I can’t interest you in anything else?”
I wave her away. She catches the drift, and turns on her heels. Once she disappears into the crowd, Esmeralda leans against the couch, her shoulders sloping.
“I’m guessing you know that woman?” I ask.
Esmeralda snorts. “We went to school together.”
I lift a brow, making clear I’m not buying her sanitized explanation.
She shrugs, but when I continue to keep silent, watching her, she keeps going. “We were friends, in like… elementary school. Until she decided I’d serve her better as the butt of the joke.”
I want to pull on that thread until it unravels, showing me something I can use to reel Esmeralda into my game, but it’s clear from the way she shifts uncomfortably she’s not interested in discussing this further, and I won’t get the answers I seek this way.
“I couldn’t tell if she was trying to play games with my head, flirting with you, or if she was actually into you,” she says, changing the subject, but it’s a topic I’m happy to delve into.
“You think she was flirting with me?”
Finally, she laughs, and the sound makes the air electric. “I know she was. Are you kidding me? Can I interest you in anything else?” she says, mocking the server’s tone. “I can’t blame her, but it was so obvious, so cliche.”
She’s not wrong, but the server’s cringy flirting is not what I want to focus on. “You can’t blame her, you say?”
