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Minefield.
“Sorry to interrupt, Felix, but Vadim needs you. Inside. Now.”
“Alma Lancaster, if I remember correctly? We could continue this conversation with the man himself,” Manon suggests boldly. “You must have a VIP pass you could lend us.”
“You know the rules. The press isn’t allowed inside.”
I try to keep smiling and escape as quickly as possible with Felix, but she doesn’t give up.
“Alma, please!”
“Vadim will come back out for a few interviews shortly after midnight. Until then, you’ll have to wait. Fe, are you coming?”
He pretends to drag his feet, but sees that the journalist is already pouncing on another celebrity. We finally make it inside, and I turn to face him, determined to set the record straight.
“What were you doing out there?”
“Just leave me alone, Alma. Get a life and let me handle mine. And stop smothering Vadim. He’s your boyfriend, not your kid!”
“Don’t ever speak to the press again. You know you can’t reveal anything about his past,” I hiss furiously.
“Exactly! So, given how much I know about Vadim, you’d better back off…”
“Is that a threat?”
“No, just a piece of advice.”
“From a friend or an enemy?”
“That depends on you.”
“Can you hear yourself, Felix? What you’re doing is disgusting. You claim he’s like a brother to you, but you use him whenever it suits you. And now you’re blackmailing me by threatening to sell him to the highest bidder!”
“Only if you push me too far.”
His sneer sickens me.
“And you call that friendship? I don’t know what Vadim and Lily see in you, but I see your true colors. I’ve seen them for twelve years.”
***
I go find my friends, trying to push that infuriating conversation to the back of my mind. I clink glasses with everyone, laugh, dance, and run into Vadim, who makes a couple of brief appearances in our circle before his social obligations call him away again. Kate, a little tipsy by now, excuses herself every five minutes to go to the bar, the buffet, or the restroom. Niels and Basile are making out in a corner. Lily has decided to make the best of it without Felix and is dancing her heart out in front of the DJ. Clémentine and Yann are forcing themselves to smile, but the tension between them remains palpable.
When Sophie and Clarence join our little group, things go from bad to worse. Clem blushes furiously, and I witness an intense exchange of glances between her and Clarence that makes it obvious they are hiding something. Clarence’s wife doesn’t seem to notice, and Yann is looking in the other direction, as irritable as ever. I feel guilty for imagining another life for all four of them, one that might make them happier. And I’m already dreading the consequences of this whole thing exploding.
Ten seconds left until midnight. The countdown begins, and Vadim finally joins me. His lips brush against mine, the magnificent room we are in now plunged into darkness. I shiver, excited by the danger of our closeness and the electrifying atmosphere.
Around us, the guests are counting down. “Three… two… one… HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
After spending a minute or two sharing hugs and kisses with our friends, Vadim takes my hand and asks me to follow him outside. I try to pull my hand back, but he holds it firmly, a persistent smile on his lips. I wonder if he’s actually gone crazy.
Outside, the sea of cameras turns in our direction. Vadim King offers the assembled journalists his best wishes for the new year, then faces me. “The mystery has gone on long enough. Let me introduce you to Alma Lancaster, the incredible woman with whom I share my life! Happy New Year, everyone!”
My heart stops, then starts again to the rhythm of the photographers’ flashes. My legs give way, and I think of the young server, whom I’ll soon be able to tell that I fainted during the most important moment of my life. But Vadim wraps an arm around my waist and holds me up. He saves me. I lean against him and smile for the cameras. I hear dozens of strangers yelling my name as they compete to get my attention. I look away, blinded by the flashes, then meet the eyes of the man I’m madly in love with.
He seems proud… but troubled.
He runs a hand through his hair, wets his lips with his tongue, then leans toward my ear. “I hope I just gave you a gift, and not a burden.”
