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Adrian is here with Sydney.
My throat squeezes so tight I can barely breathe, my heart slams faster, and my thoughts race in circles, determined to find another explanation as to why Adrian has his arm looped around Sydney’s waist. But then my son leans in, pressing an enthusiastic kiss to Sydney’s cheek, making her laugh and banishing the last shadow of a doubt.
Adrian is dating Sydney, my Sydney.
And I’m going to fucking throw up.
twelve
SYDNEY
As soon as Adrian waves goodbye to the reporter and we start down the final stretch of red carpet toward the ballroom entrance, the smile drops from my face.
“That’s it, buddy,” I hiss beneath my breath. “No more touchy-feely and no more sloppy kisses. We’re here as friends, remember?”
“I always sloppy kiss my friends.” He’s still grinning, clearly pleased with how the red-carpet interviews went. “I save the quality kissing for women I’m trying to get into bed.”
I roll my eyes and mime gagging.
“Oh, come on,” he says. “I was a good kisser. Admit it, you liked kissing me. Not enough to fuck me, but you liked it. I could tell.”
“Behave,” I say, pinching his arm below the sleeve of his shirt. “Or I’m out of here. I’m here as a favor to a friend not to rehash our brief romantic entanglement.”
“You’re so old-fashioned sometimes. ‘Romantic entanglement.’ That’s cute.”
“Yeah, well I’m cute.” I sniff. “That’s been established. I’m also nice. Don’t make me regret it.”
He gives my hand a squeeze. “You are nice, and I appreciate you. Try to have fun tonight, okay? And come see me at the booth if you need anything. I’ll be busy once I start spinning, but I can always take a break. You know, if you need a dance lesson or someone to show you how to do a Jell-O shot.”
I narrow my eyes as he opens the heavy door leading into the space. “And you can come get me if you need someone to take your ego down a peg or two. Sound good?”
“Sounds great.” He grins and lifts a hand to someone on the other side of the ballroom as we step inside.
I’m amazed he can see anything. The room is dark, lit only by deep blue lights swirling behind the transparent dome that serves as the ceiling. The effect is beautiful—like we’re under a dark, ever-changing night sky—but it’s hard to make out faces. Add in the stands of fake trees arranged throughout the space and white fog hugging the ground, adding to the “midnight in an eerie forest” vibe, and I can already tell it will be easier to hide at this party than see and be seen.
Thank God.
I can’t wait to ditch Adrian and dive into the snacks. I realized I forgot to eat dinner on the way over, and I’m suddenly starving. I definitely need something in my stomach before I have a drink, or I’ll fall asleep under a fake tree way before midnight.
“Are you okay to find Noelle and Ben on your own?” Adrian asks, his eyes scanning back and forth across the crowd, calculating his next move. “I want to get a little networking in before I head to the booth.”
“Absolutely,” I say, though I haven’t spotted a sign of Noelle or Ben, both of whom were able to traverse the red carpet much faster than the host of the party.
But I’ll find them. Noelle’s dress is bright, bubblegum pink. Surely, even in a shadowy forest, I’ll be able to spot a color that aggressive.
I clap a hand on Adrian’s back between his shoulders. “Good luck and don’t be nervous. You’re in your element and you’re going to do an amazing job.”
The real Adrian peeks out from behind his social mask for a beat, gratitude in his eyes. “Thanks, Syd. Have a great time. You deserve it.”
“Thanks,” I say, moving away, only to turn back when he adds in a louder voice, “And if you meet someone cool, don’t be afraid to shoot your shot, woman. You look hot as fuck tonight.”
I blush and awkwardly flip him off before making my escape, weaving my way quickly through the still sparse crowd toward the smell of grilled meat. I know Adrian meant well, but I hate having attention drawn to me in public.
I’m not shy, necessarily, I simply prefer not to be the center of attention.
I’d rather slip into a gathering unnoticed, with ample time to linger in the periphery, observing the social dynamics of the players before making my move. Socializing in large groups of strangers doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m more of a one-on-one girl. Or three or four people if we’re all close friends. Like the book club with my Maine girls.
An ache spreads through my chest, reminding me that I need to call Maya and tell her I won’t be able to make it up to Sea Breeze for the October book club meeting, after all. Work is just too hairy. I can still join them via video call, of course, but it won’t be the same.
