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Freya
I wanted to go straight home, especially as I saw the taxis passing by, but I didn’t want to leave my mother alone. Anyway, I had to go back. I left my phone at our table. Even so, I dreaded returning to the Ladies to clean myself up. I knew I must look a state. It would just be fresh ammunition for those gossipy bitches.
Closing my eyes, I looked up to the vast night sky and allowed myself to feel. The waves of passion were still coursing softly through my body, almost making me forget how cold I was beginning to get. I couldn't believe I had kissed him. I thought about the kiss. No man had ever kissed me like that. I touched my lips and they were swollen. I thought about the expression in his eyes. He seemed shell-shocked, but he also seemed to be angry. I bit my lip. The way I left was childish. He didn’t even come, but I panicked and ran off like an idiot.
There was nothing he could do about it, except decide never to see me ever again anyway.
What else was new? I was the toxic creature no man would touch with a bargepole, after all.
After stopping by the thankfully empty bathroom for some damage control, I headed back into the hall to see that most of the guests were already seated. I saw my mother waving to me to come take my seat, so I hurried over to the table.
A few minutes later, she was rearranging my bangs and I was brushing her off just as the announcer started to mention some of the big names present. My gaze wandered idly around the room. I wondered if he would come back to the party. I looked at the coveted tables in the front that would no doubt have been reserved for him
Just then, I saw him come in, alone, his coat off, his superbly cut suit, showing his body in all its glory. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was shown to his seat, and slipped into it with a nod before turning his attention to the stage.
I tasted my lips to recall our kiss. It was the perfect punctuation to the explosion that was the session we’d just had together. But was it a full stop, or a comma?
Shaking my head to clear it, I decided not to care. It was just what it was. I’d needed to feel better, and now I did. Pulling my eyes away, I picked up the flute of champagne that had just been filled by a passing waiter, and began to sip slowly, doing my absolute best not to allow my eyes to go over in his direction, but more times than not, it did just that, and I didn’t stop myself. Who knew when I would see him again?
“They’re really going all out with these donations, aren’t they,” my mom leaned over to whisper. “How can someone just drop five million a go for a cause he probably doesn’t care about?”
“That’s what dad used to do,” I reminded her.
She wrinkled her nose at me. “Your father cared.”
“No, he didn’t, Mom. He did it for the same reason all these men are doing it. He wanted to be recognized as a great philanthropist.”
“I refuse to believe that,” Mom said, pulling away.
My mind went to what the women in the bathroom had said and once again, my heart began to ache. I felt my chest constrict with sorrow, so I dropped my head and tried to get myself back together.
Thankfully, dinner was announced. The waiters came around and I occupied myself with my phone while my mother made conversation with the people at our table. On a whim, I sent a text to Maddie.
I kissed him.
But her response did not come. She must be away from her phone. Bored, I picked at my food, the salty duck confit, and the near perfect gratin of potato, the delicious lime soufflé.
Brent looked quite occupied on his table with all the people around him, desperate to catch his attention and pull him into conversations.
As I watched him, I wondered just how much of me he recalled. He hadn’t even turned around to search if I was present in the room.
You shouldn’t care, my mind reminded me, and I nodded in agreement. Maddie’s response came.
What the hell are you talking about?
I filled her in on what had happened and all I got was radio silence, even though the message had been clearly read. Eventually, her reply came back.
Can I call you?
I replied. Yes, but I won’t speak.
A few seconds later, I answered her call and was greeted with a long-suffering sigh. “What the hell are you doing?”
Don’t overreact, I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.
“Wasn’t it meant to be just one night? You’re both supposed to go your separate ways.”
“We have,” I muttered.
“Then why did you go to him again?”
“I didn’t—” I began.
My mother had begun to frown at me.
With a smile at her, I excused myself. Holding the phone to my ear, I spoke as quietly as I could, “I didn’t go to him.”
“Who initiated it then?”
Spotting a waiter passing by, I sighed and went after him. “Maddie, you didn’t call me just to scold me, did you? I was hurt about my dad. I overheard some bitches discussing him and he made me feel better. There’s nothing else to it.”
“Then what about the kiss?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I just wanted to know what it would feel like. He definitely won’t contact me after this, so you can relax?”
“So why did you even bother telling me then?”
Her sullenness made me smile. “I don’t know. Maybe I was just bored.”
