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Bridget let me dress her but she refused to wear a dress. Fucking typical. But I did what I could — Francis colour-block merino wool cardigan from Alex Mill, the white Lucien cotton-voile shirt from Khaite, black Palace fit trousers from Philipp Plein and Dolce & Gabbana’s leopard-print open-toe sandals.
Time goes slippery for me the way it goes when you’ve had too much, and halfway through my third fight with a complete stranger, Bridget calls for back up.
I see Taura first, gliding over to me with the speed, grace and dexterity of what — to me, in this moment — feels like an Olympic figure-skater, but to a regular person might just be normal walking.
“Tausie!” I beam up at her in her bright pink Hailey open-back chainmail mini dress from Fannie Schiavoni.
“Babe!” She blinks, looking from me to Bridget. “Wow.”
Bridget gives her an exasperated look and I frown at her. Then my sister looks past Taura’s shoulder.
“Oh, god—” Bridget rolls her eyes. “You brought the whole cavalry?”
Taura sighs, annoyed. “I tried to shake them. Someone—” she gives my sister a pointed look that goes over my head, “—who I think was attempting to be subtle actually made it very clear he felt it necessary he come.”
“How does someone’s girlfriend feel about that?” Bridget asks under her breath.
“Not good.” Taura gives her a look.
Taurs holds my face in her hands and smiles down at me. “How are you feeling, baby girl?”
I open my mouth to say something but then I see him behind her — my heavy head drops to the side, peering at him. Our eyes catch and he buries a smile as he walks over to me a bit gingerly.
“Heard you were on the lash.” He smiles down at me, amused.
“That feels like it might be a rude thing to say to someone as fancy as I am.” I blink up at him and he sniffs a laugh.
Brown YMC Military buttoned shirt over a plain white tee from Visvim, black Cutoff Cargo Pant from Dickies, and the Golden Brown and True White Old Skools. He looks so handsome and I want to touch his face but I shouldn’t, so I drape my arms over Henry instead.
“My favourite Ballentine in the world,” I say and give BJ an intense glare. He just rolls his eyes. “And Christian! And Jonah! And—” I spot Jordan. “Oh.”
And then I frown. Fully frown. Right in her face. I don’t mean to, but my social filters have gone to shit.
Henry buries a smile.
“Parks,” BJ grabs my eye, holding it with his own. “You remember Jordan.”
“Mm,” I say, flashing her a quick, annoyed smile.
She gives BJ a sharp look.
Jonah tosses an arm around me, pulling me towards the bar.
“So, you like me again?”
I bobble my head around. “You’re on prevention.”
“You mean ‘probation’?”
I shrug. “Could be.”
“You mean do? Could do?”
“Corrections shan’t help you.”
“Noted.” He nods once. “Can I get a round of shots, please?” he says to the bartender (and mouths “water” over my head, pointing at me.)
“How do I win you back, Parks?”
