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“Miranda—”

“Girl, did you see the man that was run—”

The alcohol in Miranda’s system turned to water as she looked directly into the face of the man that she was about to mention. Alarm bells, warning bells, and sounds of hazard began to blare in her ears.

“What the fuck?”

“I must’ve lost track of time. Miranda, this is Dante. Dante, this is my best friend M—”

“Myla, what are you doing up here? Come on, let’s go!” Miranda drunkenly shouted as she wobbled in place. She didn’t care that the people dining were staring at her.

Yes, she was drunk and stumbling like a fool. But she wasn’t so drunk that she couldn’t identify a threat. From the cage where she was dancing, she had clearly seen the man who was now sitting with her friend being chased by Château Noir’s security guard before he disappeared in the crowd. With all the raunchy behavior taking place inside Château Noir, a person had to be doing something extremely wild to be chased by security.

“Miranda?! What’s wrong with you?”

“It’s fine, Myla. I’m assuming that you and your friend want to start the new year together. I respect it. You just said that the people you love end up messing up this day for you; I don’t want to be the person to ruin your first New Year’s Eve night out.”

“But—”

“No but’s. Look, it’s freezing outside. I want you to take my jacket since you didn’t wear one. I have your card. I’ll call you later. Have a good night and a happy new year, Dr. Pleasant,” Dante said as he stood, removed his jacket, and wrapped it around Myla’s shoulders. He slid out of the booth and walked past Miranda with not so much as a word or backward glance.

Miranda scrunched her nose as if she smelled something foul.

“Something about that man ain’t right, Piggy. Something in the milk ain’t clean.”

6

“3, 2, 1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!”

Myla, along with the seminude and nude patrons of Château Noir, cheered with excitement when the clock hit midnight. Each thankful for their own reason, to see another year; but not Miranda. For the past fifteen minutes, she remained quiet, deep in thought.

Watching the countdown to the new year had been her favorite part of New Year’s Eve. To her, there was something profound about knowing that she’d been blessed with a chance to see another year, try new things, and complete new goals. But this time, she hadn’t noticed. She couldn’t feel the confetti raining down on her, feel the champagne splashing on her face, or feel the hugs from the drunken patrons.

No, she was too focused on the man that had somehow found his way into her best friend’s life. Her thoughts were going a mile a minute. She had not been in Dante’s presence for more than a few minutes, but that was enough time to let her know that something was not quite right with him. He was eye candy; she couldn’t deny that. But she also knew he was no more than a pretty cup of dirty water.

“Happy New Year, Miranda! Thank you so much for making me come out tonight! Tonight was full of firsts, and I loved it!” Myla admitted, embracing her friend tightly and kissing the side of her face.

The scent of the Baccarat wafting from Dante’s suit jacket instantly gave Miranda a migraine. The scent of the expensive fragrance filled her nostrils with the scent of men that preyed on women for their own selfish needs.

Miranda rubbed her temples, hoping to alleviate some of the pain, but of course, it did nothing to help.

Calm down, Miranda. Calm down, you don’t even know this man. You’re projecting. You’re projecting! Miranda tried to calm her nerves by telling herself that she was behaving ridiculously. But try as she might, she simply could not.

Dante’s aura screamed predatory. She had seen it too many times before. If that wasn’t enough, running from a security guard surely made him seem suspicious of something. Now that she thought of it, he claimed that he had given Myla the jacket to wear because it was cold, but she knew he either gave Myla the brown jacket to avoid being spotted or worse; his so-called gentlemanly gesture could have been a marker. A way to stake claim to the person he now deemed as his property.

“I can finally scratch Château Noir off my bucket list. I had no idea that it was like this. This place is wild.”

“Are you ready? It’s getting late. I have to work tomorrow,” Miranda said dryly.

Myla was shocked. Miranda’s silent treatment may have gone unnoticed, but the “I have to go to work” statement had her full attention. Miranda was not the type to go to work on New Year’s Day, mainly because she normally drunk herself into dehydration. The fact that she wanted to go to work on a holiday was suspicious.

“You want to go home?” Myla asked slowly and quizzically.

The words sounded foreign in her head, and they felt weird coming from her mouth. Even though she had only spoken five words, she felt as though she had just read the first edition of Gray’s Anatomy.

Miranda was the friend who encouraged everyone to use their paid time off. In fact, Miranda’s favorite line was, “That job don’t give a fuck about you.” She could remember when Miranda took bereavement time from work to get her hair done for an all-expenses-paid cruise. With her, life was for living. The fact that she was now making work a priority felt strange.

“Yes.”