Flustered by the intrusive thought, I hear myself say,“Excuse me. I need to go powder my nose.” And then I’m pushing his knee away and slipping off my barstool. I grab my clutch before hurriedly following signs for the restroom.
I pull out my phone the second I step into the dimly lit back hallway, and fire off a text to my best friend as I try to breathe deeply. I need to cool down and get a handle on whatever fucked-up hormones have me sweating, because this isnotappropriate.
STELLA:There is a very hot man here and I’m trying not to act a fool. Tell me to get my shit together.
I wish she were here tonight, and she would have been if she hadn’t broken her tibia five days ago while on a skiing trip in the Alps with her husband. While she’s technically not related to Janelle, Daphne, and me by blood, she’s still considered one of the Baldwin cousins since we all grew up together. More of our family photos have her in them than not.
Her reply pops up on my screen within seconds.
MIKA:Go fuck him
I guess that’s what I get for asking her to convince me to do the right thing. Of my cousins, Janelle’s the angel on my shoulder. Mika’s the devil in a little red dress.
STELLA:That was NOT the answer I was looking for
MIKA:Why not??? You need to get laid, it’s been too long. Pussy’s probably got cobwebs all up in it at this point
Instead of replying, I call her.
“First of all, that was just rude,” I scold when she answers after the third ring. “And second of all, I amnotabout to make any bad decisions tonight.”
“Hooking up with a hot guy is not a bad decision,” she counters without missing a beat. “Besides, he knows Ron, right? And don’t we like Ron? Doesn’t that mean this guy’s essentially been vetted?”
We do like Ron. Mika and I put him through hell when he first started dating Janelle so we could be certain he wasn’t an asshole who’d mistreat our girl. In the year they’ve been together, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a man—other than my father and Mika’s husband—more hopelessly devoted to his partner. I’d be jealous if I weren’t so hideously happy for her.
“He’s a good guy,” I concede. “But that doesn’t automatically extend to the people he knows.” And, as I’ve learned, Thomas isn’t even close with him.
“You don’t need a good guy to get your rocks off,” she points out. “You’re hooking up with him, not marrying—”
“Hey!” I interrupt. “Still sensitive about that topic, all right?”
She heaves a sigh. “I know, I know. But, babe, you and Frenchie just weren’t meant to be. You need to put yourself back out there. He’s certainly not wasting any time.”
Her nickname for Étienne brings a hint of a smile to my lips. “I will eventually, but for now I’m trying to—” I cut myself short when her last sentence registers. “Wait, what do you mean he’s not wasting any time?”
Silence crackles across the line. If there’s one thing Mika never is, it’s quiet.
“Mika, what did you mean?” I press.
“Stella, don’t worry about it,” she finally says, but from her tone I know she didn’t mean to let that slip.
“Well, Iamworried about it.”
She groans, hesitant to tell me anything. “Look, I may have heard that he was spotted out with a woman last night and that they looked…cozy.”
“Cozy?” I repeat, trying to keep the hysterical note out of my voice, but it’s no use. “The fuck does that mean?”
“Stella…”
“Tell me.”
“It means they were kissin’ and cuddlin’, all right?” she says bluntly. She’s not doing it to hurt my feelings—she knows how much I appreciate honesty—but it still makes me wince.
I swallow past the growing lump in my throat. “And you trust the source it came from?”
“Well, the source was my own eyes, so…”
So Étienne really was out in the streets with someone else two weeks after leaving me at the fucking altar.
