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“You say that now until Sophia starts running her mouth.”
A boisterous and drunk man stumbled into me before I could reply. His drink spilled all over my dress like an accessory I picked out.
“What the fuck!” I yelped, looking down at the blue satin dress that was sure to be stained.
“You need to get the fuck from over here!” Denim yelled.
“Aye, chill, baby. What’s your name?” he asked, completely disregarding the irritation from all of us.
“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it!” Hailo fussed.
“Is it a problem over here?” Quest’s deep voice rang in my ear.
“His drunk ass knocked my girl’s drink over,” Denim explained.
“I just wanted to know her name,” he replied, too drunk to see the error in his ways.
Quest pulled him aside and signaled over to one of the security guards. He whispered something in his ear that seemingly sobered the man up before rejoining the three of us.
“I apologize on his behalf. Let me help you get cleaned up,” Quest offered as if there was a production crew behind us filming. It had to be because this man had lost his mind.
Hailo stepped before me like the overprotective big sister, “Help her clean up?”
“Stop blocking, damn.” Denim’s eyes bulged before turning back to Quest. “Where’s your name tag? Everybody else is wearing one.”
“I’m not everybody else.” Impressed, Denim winked at me, not realizing this was all a part of his game. “The name is Quest,” he smiled, offering Denim a hand while Hailo grilled him.
“I just bet you are. Gon’ head. We’ll be right here.”
“Are you good, Solana?” Hailo asked.
I wanted to wipe that slick grin off his face, standing there like he had won. “Yeah,” I looked him up and down before turning to Hailo. “I’ll be fine.”
“For his sake, you better be,” she warned.
“I wouldn’t dream of letting anything happen to the Princess of DuPont Falls.”
I could see the smart comment bubbling on her glossed lips, so I interjected, letting her know I’d be right back. I led the way to Quest’s office, ignoring his smile.
“Are you okay?” He asked, shutting the door behind him.
“I’m fine,” I replied, leaning against his desk.
He remained across the room, engaging in the staring contest I’d begun before finally having enough of the distance between us.
“Tell me why you’re mad so I can fix it before you come over.”
“It’s girls' night. I’m not coming,” I maintained.
“You will be.”
“Quest.”
“Princess.”
Rolling my eyes, I tried to look away because it was something about him calling me Princess. He knew it, too, grabbing my chin and forcing our eyes to meet again. “What’s wrong?”
“Are you still fucking Bella?”
