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She laughs and then leans back even more, making herself at home. “He doesn’t like it, he loves it. It drives him wild to think I’m out there talking to another man. Later, when we get home, he’ll show me just how much it bothered him.”
Her admission stuns me into silence long enough for her to lean forward and smirk. “Now, how long have you known James?”
I look away. “A few weeks, though I hardly know him. We’ve only spoken a few times.”
“Then why did he invite you here tonight?”
For a moment I’m not sure I should admit the truth, but something tells me Celeste can smell bullshit from a mile away. “Let’s just say it isn’t a coincidence that I’m fluent in French.”
“Ha!” She flings her head back in laughter. “Brilliant. I always knew I liked James.”
That surprises me. “You know him well?”
“Oh, not really. He doesn’t come here often, hardly at all in fact, which is how I know I like him.”
Interesting. “But he has been here before?”
She nods and sets her drink down on the side table. I watch as she pulls out a little bottle of perfume so she can dab a few drops behind each ear. The scent is flowery and delicate, a complete contrast to the confident vixen before me.
“A few times,” she says, narrowing her eyes and thinking back. “I think I saw him last at the Halloween party.”
“Did he bring a date?”
She grins, seeing my question for what it is. “A man like that does not arrive alone. But, I recall her as a generic-looking brunette. Nothing like you.”
Nothing like me.
“We’re friends,” I reiterate.
“Friends, lovers…we do not make such harsh distinctions where I come from.”
I glance away and pretend to take in the room around me. “I hardly know him. He’s a lot older than me, and I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I might be relocating for a job soon.”
“Wow,” she says with raised brows. “What is that, four reasons? You’ve put a lot of thought into why you shouldn’t be with him.” I shoot her a warning glare, but she continues, “When I don’t want a man, I don’t think of him at all.”
She stands, drops her perfume back into her clutch, and grabs her drink.
“We should get back. They’ll be wondering where we are.”
I’m exhausted as I follow Celeste out of the bathroom. It’s been months since I’ve really stretched my French muscles, but I don’t think that’s the reason my head is pounding. I take another small sip of my drink and then instantly regret it. I’m supposed to be nursing it, but I’ve already downed half thanks to Celeste’s interrogation. I hand it off to a passing waiter when she isn’t looking and decide water will be the only thing passing my lips the rest of the night.
The crowd pushes in on us as we walk through the club. I can’t remember if there were this many people when we first arrived, but now I feel like I can hardly breathe. The jazz band is gone, replaced by loud music. That coupled with raucous laughter and conversation overpowers my ability to think. I blink and try to clear my head. I blink again and realize Celeste isn’t in front of me anymore. She was leading the way back to the guys, but now she’s nowhere to be found.
“Celeste?”
I turn in a circle, trying to spot her long black hair or the color of dried blood staining her lips. My vision cuts to a black tuxedo jacket similar to the one she was wearing. No. A woman with the same length of hair. No. I think I catch a whiff of her perfume, but when I turn toward the scent, I nearly fall onto a couple wrapped around one another. The man has his hand up the woman’s dress, she’s moaning into his mouth, and they don’t notice me. To them, I’m just another warm body.
A hand brushes across my back, then lower.
“Are you lost, sweetheart?” a deep voice asks close to my ear.
I jerk away.
Even in this state, my fight-or-flight instincts kick in. I push through the crowd quicker than before, jostling people out of my way.
Glass shatters on the floor behind me, but I don’t stop.
“Hey! EASY!” someone shouts at me.
I shake my head and blink harder, trying to clear my fuzzy vision, but it doesn’t work. It feels like I’m trying to wake myself up out of a deep sleep.
I need to find James. He’s the only person I know here, but he’s not where I left him.
At least, I think this is where I left him. Were we by the bar? Or did we wander toward the gambling tables in the back? My heart rate kicks up another notch and I try not to panic. It seems futile. The more I try to catch my breath, the harder it becomes.
