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My heart stuttered, wondering if Ibrahim, James, and Benedict might be there. No, that was foolish. DC was a big city, and there’d be dozens of exclusive charity galas, and thousands of New Year’s parties, as the nation’s elite and powerful celebrated.
This night was about Evie and me, a debut of sorts. We’d make our splash as new women—the type of women we wanted to be, rather than the type of women we’d molded ourselves into because it was the path of least resistance.
Evie knocked on my door at nine. “Piper, you look amazing!”
I grinned. I wore a floor-length, navy blue sequined dress that made my eyes sparkle. The front was deep cut and covered my breasts only through the modern miracle of double-sided fashion tape, with long sleeves and a flowing skirt. With all of the sequins, the dress must have weighed ten pounds. But it looked absolutely amazing.
“You look gorgeous, too,” I said. Evie’s blue-black skin glowed against the ruby-red of her strapless dress. She’d swept her long braids up into a high ponytail, and her dangly gold earrings emphasized the curve of her neck.
She leaned in for a hug. “How’re you doing?” she asked, searching my face. Her eyes flicked to the simple chain and diamond pendant around my neck, and then up to my earrings. I reached up to trace my fingers across my collarbone where the necklace lay, and a rough wave of emotion washed over me. Were they celebrating the New Year alone? Did I leave a hole in their lives as intensely felt as the hole they’d left in mine?
It was foolish of me to miss them so deeply. We’d spent three days together with no intention to draw our relationship out beyond that. I missed them anyway.
Ruthlessly repressing the longing surging through me, I shrugged, stepping out of her embrace and ushering her into my apartment.
“We’re better off single,” I answered, my smile wry.
“Ain’t that the truth,” she sighed, throwing herself onto my couch, heedless of the potential to wrinkle her dress.
I popped a bottle of champagne, poured her a flute, and then raised mine for a toast. “To girlfriends.”
Evie rated her glass. “To girlfriends and to independence.”
A short limo ride later, we stood in front of the hotel, freezing, tipsy, and ready to enjoy our carefree single life. Cameras flashed down the red carpet, and we paused to pose, cackling gleefully. Nobody cared about me, but Evie’s parents were well connected to both local and national politics, and she ate up the attention.
We smiled big. The champagne we’d imbibed before the event loosened our inhibitions as we laughed and sashayed into the gala. Tuxedoed staff collected our invitations, took our coats, and led us into the ballroom.
Evie timed our entrance perfectly. We missed the stuffy dinner and arrived just as the orchestra began their covers of pop music. She dragged me to the dance floor, away from her family trying to flag her down to parade her around the room like the well-behaved political daughter she wasn’t.
I was delighted to find as many congressional staffers and other young people enjoying the gala as there were politicians, wealthy hoteliers, and celebrities. The whirlwind of dancing, acquaintances, and drinks kept me from thinking too hard about how much I wanted to ring in the new year with Benedict, James, and Ibrahim.
Is that—? As the crowd grew drunker and midnight approached, a tantalizing glimpse of tall, blond, and beautiful teased me through the press of bodies. I squeezed through dancers and partiers, lifting the heavy skirt of my sequined dress in my hand. He stopped at the bar, and I ran up to him, breathlessly, laying my hand on his arm.
He turned around, startled. My heart dropped at the sight of his muddy brown eyes, my breathless excitement whooshing out of me like a deflated balloon.
“Sorry,” I whispered, my heart breaking all over again, “I thought you were someone else.”
The man smiled, his eyes warming. “I’m sorry too. I’d love to be the man at the end of that gorgeous smile.” I chuckled, despite myself, allowing him to charm me. “Can I get you a drink?”
Oh, why not? This was the new, sexually liberated me, right? And he was cute. I squished down the tiny voice reminding me I only wanted sexual adventures with my holiday men, not some random dude I picked up at a DC New Year’s party.
It didn’t matter how much I missed them, longed for them. I needed to move on.
“I’ll have champagne.”
He ordered a glass for me. “I’m Marco,” he introduced himself.
“Piper,” I answered, raising my voice to be heard over the joyous party.
“What do you do, Piper?”
I froze, the banality of the moment washing over me. “I’m a lawyer,” I answered.
Marco nodded. “Cool. I’m a lobbyist. What kind of law?”
Honestly, if I’d told him that I worked in tax law for a big corporation, he’d probably be thrilled. We could be soulless together. I took a deep breath. This was not the way I wanted to spend the rest of my life. “Thanks for the champagne,” I said, raising my glass to him as I walked back to the dance floor in search of Evie.
“Ohmygaawwwdddddd, Piper!” she squealed, dragging me up to a beautiful black woman who looked as if she’d rather be anywhere but the dance floor. “You have to meet Olivia!”
