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“As long as you’re happy on your birthday,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
He either didn’t hear or chose to ignore me. Either way, I crossed to the other side of the room so Paul could see me. I smiled brightly and swayed probably too much for Beethoven, but I remember it made him laugh before. Paul grinned when he glanced my way, and I hoped that my small gesture helped him get through his pain.He finished the piece and blew me a kiss, which I sent back in return. Then he moved on to accompany Bijou Star in singing “La Vie En Rose”.
Someone tapped my shoulder, and I turned to find Linux.
“You know, I was supposed to sing that song,” she said with a dry laugh.
I lifted my chin and didn’t answer.
“Anyway, I’m sorry for what you think you heard. I was up all night rehearsing, and my hormones were completely imbalanced. Honestly, I can’t remember all I said, but I hope you can forgive me.”
Linux remembers ten songs in a set for her concerts, but she tells me she can’t remember her insults?She didn’t want my forgiveness; she wantedPaul’s. I did not influence his decisions, but I no longer trusted her.
“I no longer care what you think or need your apology, Linux.”
Her mouth hung open for a few seconds without speaking. Then she said, “I’m trying to be nice.”
I clapped and cheered for Paul, and his focus was on me. He extended his hand. “Excuse me.”
“Enjoy him, Nadia. It’s exciting when he likes you. But he’s colder than ice when he doesn’t.”
Paul left the stage and glowered at Linux as she meekly passed him. Linux moved to join a group of celebrities chatting, but the conversation halted, and slowly, everyone turned, politely dismissing her.
“She’s finished.” The force behind his tone had me wondering about the root of his animosity.
I tilted my head upward. “Were you ever together?”
His brow rose. “Jealous, Nadia? I told you I wasn’t, not for her lack of trying.”
“She implied you were excited to be with her. I only assumed.” I lifted my shoulder.
He exhaled. “No. I was excited about the music. Anyway, enough of that.”
“Are you okay?” I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him.
“You distracted me. Thank you. I was stunned that you picked up on my…sadness.”
“I’m learning to read you,MonsieurCrane.”
He laughed with me, then pressed a kiss to my lips. “Let’s dance.”
We went downstairs, and the flashing neon lights and packed dance floor were instantly infectious. Paul spun me around, and I lifted my arms as he ground against my buttocks in rhythm to the music.
“You want to have sex with me in front of all these people?” I spoke loud enough for him to hear.
“I would.”
“We areaffaire passionnée.”
“Nothing wrong with passion.”
But could there ever be more?
We danced and sat with other celebrities who surprised me with their down-to-earth discussions about movies and pets.
I excused myself to go to the bathroom.
I refreshed my makeup and stared at my reflection in the mirror.Isit possible to be both sad and happy?
