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It’s then I realize I’m already drunker than I thought, because she just came out of a door.
Relief swamps me, and as I hurry toward it, I see the sign designating it as a ladies’ room. On my way, I find another little table to set my empty glass on, then use my free hand to push into the bathroom.
The noise level drops when the door swings shut behind me, and I’m greeted with a large, dimly lit restroom fancier than any I’ve ever seen.
The marble floor continues throughout, the walls are covered in a dark floral wallpaper, and the stalls are all their own individual little rooms with floor-to-ceiling wooden doors.
Not needing an embossed invitation for this little party, my heels click across the floor as I make my way to an open stall door, locking it behind me.
Keep it together, Payton.
I press my butt to the door and bend forward, careful not to spill my full glass.
In my newly found privacy, I let my breath hitch.
Just once.
Get home. Get home, then you can lose it as much as you want. You can cry until you throw up if you want. But not until you get home.
The bathroom is so fancy the stall has a shelf attached to the wall, rather than a hook on the door, for your purse or jacket. I set my drink on the shelf, then slip my phone out of my purse and open the Uber app.
It only takes me a few seconds to request a ride, and luckily, it’s a busy time of night so lots of cars are available. I select one that’s only five minutes away, then hit confirm.
Taking a breath, I pick up the second glass of bubbly and down it as fast as the first.
CHAPTER51
Payton
Okay,so that second glass may have been a mistake. My steps are even more unsteady as I push out of the ladies’ room and back into the main party. Although the blisters on my feet are throbbing just a tiny bit less, and even though my vision is slightly blurry from the tears that are still sitting in my eyes, I think I might be able to pull this off and get out of here without having a complete meltdown.
I take a second to catch my bearings, and look around the packed space, deciding it might be best to just circle around the edge of the massive room. Cutting through the middle will require a lot of weaving, and my wobbly ankles aren’t up for that.
I purposefully don’t look in the direction where I saw Nero, or where I think I saw him, since I got all turned around, because I can’t witness seeing him a second time. Or more specifically, I can’t witness him with his arm around another woman a second time and keep my sanity.
A group of people off to my left shift and converge around one of the food waiters.
My stomach is empty––besides the booze––but just the idea of trying to chew and swallow something makes my insides roil.
Turning away from the food, I blow a breath out between pursed lips. I don’t even want to see it.
Guess I’ll go the other way.
Looking up, so I don’t unwittingly bump into a tray of something, a large figure catches my attention.
He’s not doing anything spectacular, just walking toward me, along the back wall. He’s probably twenty feet away, but there’s something about him…
He kinda reminds me of Nero. The way he stands up straight, the energy he exudes, the fact that he’s handsome.
When his eyes catch mine, I look down, a reflex I can’t seem to shake.
But then it hits me, and my eyes snap back up.
I recognize him, and tendrils of ice wrap around my limbs.
I recognize him.
He came into the café that morning. He was all nice, asking me what my favorite drink was and leaving me a huge tip.
