I watch James Hartley absorb Alana's apology and I watch his eyes move back to Alana. I watch them talk and I see Alana lean in and say something close to his ear.
I watch them both move, unhurried and not particularly subtle, toward the corridor at the back of the room.
I set my champagne glass down and follow them at a distance that is close enough to be useful and far enough to be invisible. The corridor leads to the bathroom and I watch the door close behind them and I stand outside it and I press my ear to the wood.
"—so uptight," James Hartley is saying, with the petulant authority of someone who has never been told no by anyone who mattered. "She should be more generous. I mean if she's going to be my wife she could at least?—"
"Forget her," Alana says. "I can treat you so much better."
I hear a giggle and then the sound of kisses and soft moans. I step back from the door and I take my phone out of my clutch.
I look at it for a moment and I think about my father's hand finding mine for the cameras. I think about Senator Hartley saying "welcome to the family" like I was a transaction being completed.
I kick the door open pointing my camera and recording Alana springs back from James Hartley with a sound that is half gasp and half shriek and James Hartley stumbles against the sink and I stand in the doorway with my phone raised and I film.
"What are you doing?" Alana screams. "Nathalie what are you?—"
"Oh did I interrupt?" I say pleasantly. "I'm so sorry." I keep filming. "Please, carry on. Don't mind me."
James Hartley lunges for my phone.
I step to the side and he falls past me and he falls. I bring my shoes down onto the back of his hand as it hits the floor. I lean my weight into it and he makes a sound of pain.
"Stop!" Alana is screaming. "Stop it, you're insane, stop?—"
I press down slightly harder and she tries to push me away.
I take my heel off his hand and scramble upright making sounds that he will not want anyone to know he made and Alana rushes to him and puts her hand on his arm and he shakes her off and points at me and says, "Just wait. Just you wait until you're my wife. I'll deal with you properly."
I look at him.
I laugh and I can see that this bothers him more than anything else I have done in the last three minutes.
"Now don't say that," I tell him pleasantly. "You were about to sleep with my cousin and you're already planning our marriage. That's very dedicated of you."
"It's not what you think," Alana says immediately, to me.
"Delete the recording," James says. His voice has found its authority again. Maybe he thinks that what just happened can still be controlled if he applies the right pressure.
I look at my phone. "Not a chance."
He takes a step toward me but I don't move. I don't adjust or shift my stance or give him anything to read as retreat so he stops.
I realize that he is spineless, completely and utterly spineless. The lunge for the phone had been the only decisive thing he haddone since I kicked the door open and even that ended with him on the floor.
Alana puts herself between us. "James," she says, her voice dropping into something soft and reasonable, "let me talk to her. She's a bit stubborn, alright? Just give me a minute."
James looks at me over her shoulder. "I'll deal with you," he says again, because apparently it is the only threat he has and he intends to get his money's worth from it.
"Looking forward to it," I reply.
He turns and walks out, cradling his hand against his chest, and the door swings behind him and then it is just Alana and me and the sound of a tap dripping somewhere.
Alana looks at me.
She straightens her dress and she looks at me and she says, "I know you feel a certain way about this. But it isn't my fault that he wants me." She tilts her head with the patience of someone explaining something to a child.
"Nathalie, you really should learn to be more likable. You're too?—"
