CHAPTER 1
In a hazy room filled with flashing lights, throbbing music, and hundreds of beautiful people, Adrienne felt like a mallard surrounded by swans. And she longed for a peaceful bit of swamp. A woman in a silvery dress resembling plastic wrap pushed past her, leaving behind a stench of perfume. Adrienne sought out a corner where she’d be less likely to be touched or bumped into, but the best refuge she could find was a bar stool. She hiked herself onto it and checked her watch. Was it too early to go home? Meanwhile, a man wearing a floral shirt brushed up against Adrienne and sloshed his drink on her.
“Oh, clumsy me,” he said. “So sorry!” After setting his drink on a nearby table and grabbing a handful of napkins, he patted her down.
Adrienne shied away from the man with his lingering fingers and overpowering cologne. Silently she cursed Sebastian because somehow this was all his fault—even though he wasn’t there. She didn’t know where he was. And she didn’t know why she’d ever agreed to attend this awful party. She slid off the bar stool and, weaving through the laughing and smiling guests, she made her way to the restroom.
In the hall, Steph snagged her wrist. “You’re not escaping.”
“This was a bad idea.” Adrienne pulled her wet blouse away from her skin and the warm scent of wine wafted over her.
“And you think moping at home is a better one?”
Adrienne’s phone buzzed. She scrambled to open her sequined clutch bag.
“Huh-uh.” Steph snatched the purse. “No! He doesn’t get to talk to you.”
“How do you know it’s him?”
“I don’t. But if it is, he’s the last person you should be talking to.” Steph turned her voice into a purr. “Come on, sweetie, have some fun. You don’t need him.”
Adrienne blinked back tears. “He’s my husband.”
“But he hasn’t acted like it in months…maybe even years.” Steph opened the purse and sighed when she checked the phone.
“It was him, wasn’t it?”
Steph handed the purse back to Adrienne. She slipped her arm around Adrienne’s waist and tried to urge her back into the thick of the crowd. “Let me introduce you to my friend Geoff. He’s an artist, too.”
“Graphic design?”
“No, video games.”
Images of violent computer graphics flashed in Adrienne’s mind. A creature carrying an automatic weapon crashed into the room and began firing. Blood spurted. People screamed. Adrienne shook the visual from her mind. “I have to go,” she said. “I really need to talk to Sebastian.”
After thanking the hostess and following her directions to the bedroom where the coats had been gathered, Adrienne stepped into the room, closed the door, leaned against it, and battled tears. She took a deep breath and a glance at the coats and jackets heaped on the bed. Ninety percent of them were black—like hers. But wait, why was there a shoe amid the jackets? Two shoes. No, four shoes.
Oh dear, what was that couple doing on the bed, buried beneath the coats? And how would Adrienne ever extract hers without interrupting? She quickly left, sans coat.
Outside, away from the party’s noise and crush of people, Adrienne breathed a little easier. The misty air blurred the headlights of the cars splashing down the shiny black roads. Reflections of the store’s neon advertisements glistened on the slick sidewalk. The cold damp penetrated Adrienne’s blouse and the mean breeze twirled around her legs. Why had she let Steph talk her into going to a party full of strangers? Because it was better than spending another evening alone.
On the drive home, Adrienne tried to rehearse all the things she needed to say to Sebastian, but instead, she choked on all her tears.
#
Nick stared in horror at the computer screen. “How did this happen?” His voice, usually so deep and melodic, came out in a croaky whisper.
“Come on,” Steph elbowed him, “you have to admit this is amazing for business!”
Nick pulled his gaze away from YouTube to give her what he hoped was a terrifying glare. She was like a sister to him. He had backed her when her parents had thrown a fit about her purple hair and multiple piercings. He had chased off her loser boyfriend. He loved her and thought the feeling mutual, but all those warm fuzzy feelings were evaporating as he watched himself singing on the internet and realized she was the one to blame.
Steph grinned back at him, wiped her hands on her apron, and pointed her chin at the line snaking around the counter of Bar de Música. “They don’t just come here for cocoa, you know.” She patted his shoulder and practically skipped out of the office.
He watched her join Jon behind the counter and say something to the guy next in line, who threw back his head and laughed.
Nick told himself they weren’t laughing at him. Were they? He glanced at the computer. According to the views counts, so far about a thousand people had watched the video of him singing at his cousin Pedro’s wedding. There had to be millions of amateur videos of people singing at weddings—why would a thousand people choose to watch him? Of course, it didn’t help that his cousin’s bulldog, Lester, dressed in a tux, gave Nick his rapt attention, his big head swinging in time with the music. How had Nick not noticed this at the time? He replayed the video, curious about what else he’d missed.
Jon strode into the office. “Are you still obsessing over that?”
