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“Okay,” she says, and turns to the man, who’s holding his sore arm against his chest, eyes glassy. There’s no fight in him, but I want to get away as fast as I can, in case that changes. “I’m not interested, sorry, and next time, don’t be such a fucking creep.” She takes a step back and grabs my hand, pulling me into the crowd.
“I’m not sure if we should leave him alone--“
“I know, but we’re not far from the bar,” she assures me, and we make it out of the crowd. “Security’ll nab him if he does something stupid. What’s up with you?” She drags me into the office, shutting the door on the sound, and the people outside. “Hade’s in a mood! The hell happened with you two today? I heard it was like, a date?” She spreads her hands, eyes wide. “Holy shit!”
I can’t even say it wasn’t that. I know what today was. A picnic, in a beautiful private spot, set up in advance, over-looking the city?
I am, was, being courted by a god, and I don’t know how to handle it.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “It was something.”
“You two have a fight?”
“Not exactly.” I lean against the desk, folding my arms over my chest. I want to hug myself, but I resist. But I deeply need a hug, and if it’s not going to come from anyone, it’ll have to come fromme.
“Oh, come on,” she says, and leans beside me. “If you want to talk about it, spill. Because he’s been stomping around here all evening, and if you know something that’ll get him out of his funk, please tell me. He even yelled at Angel. Angel!”
My eyebrows lift.
Angel has the happiest personality for someone who barely has two words to say to anybody, but the guy is like a ray of sunshine, always smiling.
“I think I said something he didn’t want to hear,” I murmur, and look down at the ground. “I thought... he was going to kiss me, or something. Livvie, he took me out. It was a picnic date. He got dressed up and everything.”
Livvie whistles under her breath, giving me that wide-eyed look again.
“He doesn’t date,” she says, “like he’s had women from time to time stay with him, girls who’ve worked the club before leaving for other opportunities, but I’m pretty sure he never even made so much as a move on one of them, even when they were drunk.” She crosses her arms, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes with a huff. “And everyone who works here gets drunk at some point. He’s like a monk.” She chews on her bottom lip and glances off into the distance. “A really sexy monk with a great ass.”
“You’re not helping.” I have to keep myself from whining, and it comes out as a grumble instead.
“Sorry.”
“So... it was weird. After he offered me... whatever I wanted, my dream or something.” I shrug.
“Yeah?”
“I asked him to help me find my mom.”
“Woof, wow, that’s deep. Usually girlies ask him for, like, help to get them a job in fashion. One girl wanted a music career.” She shrugs. “He asked me what I wanted, but all I wanted was a job. I like it here. It suits me. I won’t be able to do it forever, but until then, I want to work in a club and feel the energy of the night for as long as I can.”
“Yeah,” I sigh.
“Why your mom? You don’t talk about her.”
“She abandoned me. In Lowtown.” There’s no reason to keep it a secret. I’m not the only one with scars on her heart. Everyone walks around, privately hurting. Even Hadrion has his wounds, for all he’s pretending they’re scars and not wounds.
Livvie’s jaw drops, and a look of disgust crosses her face.
“That’s shitty,” she comments, “and left you? Just like... up and went?”
“Not just me, my sister, and my dad,” I add in a rush, because it’s not like I went through that pain alone. Although pain shared wasn’t pain halved, or however the saying goes. “So I asked him if he wants to do something for me so badly, he can help me find my mom.”
“And then he was an asshole about it.”
“I’m not sure. He seemed... offended, I think, by the request. Like he didn’t understand it.”
“You mean because he doesn’t get families?” Livvie’s voice is dry. “Yeah, he’s not exactly a family kinda guy. He runs a nightclub. This kind of life doesn’t mesh well with baby buggies and visits to the in-laws. I mean, I’ve never seen him with a woman, but he’s probably just discreet about it. And I’m sure he always covers up, cause there’s never been so much as a whiff of baby-mama desperation coming into the club.” She pauses and wrinkles her nose. “At least, I’ve never seen it. Or heard about it.”
“Do you know why he does all of this? Runs the club, lives here, does this job, I mean...” Does she know? Who he really is? My mouth dries up. She’s never mentioned it. Maybe she doesn’t.
