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My thoughts are interrupted as Adriana strolls toward us. Eric and I stand, hugging her before we sit down again to order our lunch. My appetite has dwindled to nothing, so I order a salad, but even when it arrives I barely touch it.
We chat about the charity ball and what gossip was splashed on page six this morning. Adriana proudly talks about her boutique, how she started it, and the designs she will stock as well as her own creations. I’m so proud of her and what she’s achieving. She has wanted this for as long as I can remember, and to be successful in New York City is a big achievement in the fashion world.
Eric excuses himself when his phone rings with a potential booty call. Welcoming his absence, I turn to face Adriana when he’s out of sight.
“Adriana, I need to ask you something…” I hesitate, wondering if I should involve her in the mess I’ve created for myself. “Have you spoken to Lex since last night?”
She places her fork down, wiping her mouth with her napkin while grinning. “Yes, I have.”
“Why are you smiling?”
“Were you so wasted you don’t recall last night? So now you’re trying to find out what happened between you and Lex?”
I wring the napkin on my lap, anxiously trying to string a sentence without sounding like a whore. “Yes, kind of. Look, I’m not that kind of girl,” I rush, trying to defend my actions. “I don’t usually go out and get wasted on a Saturday night. Most of the time, I’m at Nikki’s house spending time with her son.”
“Hey, listen, Char…” The nickname brings back the nostalgia of our friendship. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. One look at you, and I know you aren’t that type of girl. You never were. That’s why Lex loved you so much.”
Her words are like tiny knives, stabbing me one by one in the heart.
Loved. That’s why he loved me so much.
Past tense, I keep telling myself.
He isn’t my future anymore.
“Look, he didn’t tell me much, to be honest, only that you didn’t have sex. He was clear on that when I asked him. Oh, and that stupid bitch, Samantha, was there,” she huffs.
“What? Samantha was there?”
My memory begins to clear. We were exiting the club, and I heard laughter, familiar laughter. The feeling of wanting to be violently ill on the sidewalk engulfed me when I saw her face, and Lex trying to restrain her from entering the club.
“Yes, she was. She wasn’t allowed to enter the club, so she made a big scene, and Lex, of course, had to calm her down. It’s not the best publicity for the club since the paparazzi swarm that place.”
Adriana continues to explain what happened. How Samantha was already drunk, and how she’s having massive custody issues with Chris, her ex, regarding their daughter. Adriana had only heard about her through the grapevine after ceasing contact with her after she and Lex split up. A part of me feels sorry for Samantha after hearing what she’s going through, but it isn’t my place to get involved. I’d played a part in ruining her life many years ago and regret still weighs heavil
y on my shoulders for my careless actions.
Eric comes back to the table, excitedly talking about a date he’s going to have with this guy tomorrow night and what he should wear. I point out since the date involves a movie that he might want to leave his Versace suit hanging in the closet. He pouts, as usual, any excuse to wear that suit.
We say goodbye to each other. Adriana and I make plans to have dinner on Tuesday night, just the two of us to catch up on old times.
Back at my apartment, I plonk myself on the couch and try to piece the puzzle together. I didn’t fuck Lex last night, but who knows, maybe I gave him head or something.
Shit. I’m mad as hell at Lex.
No good can come of being around him.
I need to focus on the positive, my fiancé, my future husband.
It’s seven on the dot when I knock on Julian’s door dressed in my off-the-shoulder black dress. The moment his door opens, his loving smile onsets my guilt.
“Geez, Alfred is slacking off. Batman has to answer the door himself?”
He grabs my hand, pulling my body into his, and kisses me deeply. His tongue softly teases mine, desperation in his moans until I pull away momentarily, a reaction of guilt, and play it off as a joke.
“If that’s how you’ll greet me every time, you might as well fire Alfred.”
“Come inside, gorgeous.”
