“You’vegotto be kidding me,” I mumble, wanting to rub away the burn behind my eyes but knowing better than to ruin my mascara.
There’s a strong chance he was cheating on me for at least part of the time we were together, especially toward the end, but I never had proof or anything more than my intuition. Hearing this, though…It makes me wonder what I might have been willfully oblivious to, all because I was so desperate to make it work.
I can’t deal with this. Not here, not now. There’s a pinching in my chest that always precedes a sob session, but I refuse to break down right now. Étienne stole so much from me already; I’m not about to let him steal more of my dignity by crying in the dark hallway of a casino.
“I’m really sorry, honey,” Mika says, and I know she genuinely is. “But if not wanting to go out and have the time of yourlife has anything to do with loyalty to him, throw it out. He doesn’t deserve it. It’s time for you to go live your life without that dour French storm cloud hanging over you. C’est la vie, right?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose to ward off the tears, but I can’t help the watery laugh that escapes me at her horrible attempt at a French accent. “Pretty sure you’re not using that phrase correctly.”
“Hey, you’re the one who took lessons, not me.”
It’s a reminder of all the things I sunk into that relationship: French lessons so I could chat with his grandparents, missing store openings because he wanted me to constantly travel to Paris with him, all the nights I stayed out too late entertaining his business associates even though I had my own important meetings the next morning. I put a lot into keeping us together, only to be repaid with heartbreak and disrespect.
“I want you to be yourself again,” Mika goes on when I don’t say anything. “I wantmyStella back.”
I glance toward the doorway to the high rollers’ room. “I was actually trying to bring her back tonight.” If I thought Daphne’s comments were enough to inspire Old Stella’s return, then this news about Étienne has made me more determined to not hold back.
“Don’t let me stop you,” she says brightly. “I’m living vicariously through you right now. Kind of hard to get it on when you’ve got a cast halfway up your leg, though that hasn’t put me off trying. Let’s just say we’ve been getting creative with it.”
“Good for you, babe.” My eyes are drying, my smile returning. “Just don’t break anything else.”
“No promises. But hey, why are you wasting time talking to me? Go get that dick.”
“There will be no dick getting tonight,” I tell her firmly,though I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince—her or myself. “But Iwillbe flirting like my life depends on it.”
She’s right that I need to get myself out of this funk. It’s okay to grieve, to sit and lick my wounds, but it’s also okay to live my life however the hell I want. Who’s going to stop me?
When we hang up, I swing by the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror and make sure my makeup is still perfect. I throw in a little pep talk for good measure.
“You’re a fucking knockout,” I tell my reflection as I zhuzh the roots of my silk press. “Total package. Brainsandamazing tits.”
It’s the speech I know Mika would give me if she were here. For the rest of the night, I’m determined to cling to the devil on my shoulder. The angel’s busy anyway.
Thomas is still sitting in the same place when I come back, his gaze tracking me as I approach. There’s a part of me that expected him to be there, yet there’s another part that’s surprised he hasn’t moved. He really didn’t get up to find a different conversation? To find someone he can actually take to bed tonight?
“I think we’re gearing up for the next event,” he announces as I slip back onto my barstool, and I watch the waitresses attempting to herd people toward the elevators. “Want to be my buddy for this excursion? Something tells me this night is going to devolve into mayhem.”
I don’t think he’s wrong about that. And considering he’s been decent company so far, I wouldn’t mind hanging out a little longer. He’s making what started as a terrible night into something bearable. “I’ll watch your back if you watch mine,” I offer.
“Great, because I’m not sure I like how that lady over there is looking at me.” He nods toward a woman a few feet away,sipping her vodka cran through a tiny straw as she shoots coquettish glances in his direction.
“That’s Christine,” I whisper like I’m sharing a dark secret. “You’re right to be worried. She’s on the hunt for her fourth husband. Number three disappeared under suspicious circumstances last year.”
His eyebrows nearly shoot up into his hairline. “Seriously?”
“Nah, I’ve actually never seen that woman in my life.” I hop off my barstool and offer him my hand. “Come on. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Chapter 5
Thomas
Nothing about tonight is going the way I expected. And that’s a good thing.
I presumed this party was going to teeter somewhere between a bore and a nightmare, but right now, it’s sitting on a completely different scale. All because of Stella.
She held on to my elbow during the journey from the high rollers’ room back down to the casino floor, supposedly because of her shoes, which she proclaimed werenothing short of a thousand-dollar death trap, but I’m choosing to believe she just wanted an opportunity to feel me up. Now she’s sitting next to me on the party bus, our shoulders and thighs pressed together thanks to the crowd pushing in from all sides. They were already a rowdy bunch, but after money won and lost and a handful more drinks in their systems, they’re even worse.
We’re jostled and tossed about as the bus lurches into motion. Almost everyone is cheering, ready for the next part of the night, and some of my earlier apprehension creeps back in now that we’ve left the safety and security of the casino.
