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“Speaking of couples,” Evan says, and his cuff slips back over his wrist as he lowers the whiskey, hiding the sleeve tattoo. His left arm is covered in tattoos. His background is perfect for his profession. He’s from Brooklyn with the reputation of a man who grew up on the wrong side of the law. He made a name for himself, but only in the best of ways for his job.
He never got caught. Never had a conviction, and he knows the ins and outs of the press.
That’s the kind of man the industry wants representing their clients when they’re out of the spotlight. Someone to party with and respect and be genuine friends with. But someone who knows when to leave the scene before it gets too rough, what to tell the press and who to go to when shit goes down.
He’s damn good at what he does, but how the two of them have stayed married, I have no idea.
“Where did Jules go?” Kat interjects before her husband can finish his thought. He glances at her from the corner of his eye and then releases her, taking a sip of whiskey and looking past me as Kat steps forward. She has no idea how she’s affected him.
“Just to the restroom,” I say and motion to the back with my chin.
“How’s she been?”
“I think she’s really taking this transition hard … moving on and getting married again.” I could choke on the words.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Evan’s condolences are sincere, but I’m more than certain he doesn’t want a part in this conversation.
“You better be good to her,” Kat says, the declaration sounding like a threat.
I turn my attention back to her. “I’ll take care of her, I promise,” I assure her, meeting her prying gaze. I can see the moment my lies slip into place and Kat reaches up to give me a quick hug.
“I’ll talk to her,” she says firmly, nodding her head and giving me a sympathetic look.
“Thank you,” I say and hide the fact that dread is slowly consuming me. Jules was willing to tell the police before. Her dear friend who’s concerned for her well-being … I’m certain she’ll tell her something.
JULES
My body gets hotter and hotter with each step I take. Leaning against the counter, I listen to the water rushing from the faucet; it fills the empty restroom with white noise.Just breathe. Just breathe.I’ve never wanted to run so badly. That’s all I can think about.
My heels click as I walk casually out of the side exit, smiling as best as I can although I’m not meeting the eyes of any of the guests who are having quiet conversations in the hall. As they sip on their cocktails and throw their heads back in jovial laughter, I want to walk faster; my body begs me to run. It takes great effort to keep my pace easy and pretend that nothing’s wrong as I tuck my hair back and say thank you to the doorman when I head outside.
Goosebumps prickle along my skin as the bitter cold greets me. I pull the shrug tighter and maintain my composure when the look from the young man holding the door is riddled with questions.
It’s too cold for me to be outside without a coat; I’m certain that’s what he’s thinking. But I cling to my clutch, the beaded fabric nearly slipping from the sweat on my hands.
My heart races and all I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears as the door closes behind me. The dark night lays before me, the busy street only a block away and through a small alley.
This exit isn’t meant for departing guests. It’s meant for smoking and the faint smell gets stronger as I take a few steps farther out into the night. Away from the gala, from the spotlight and from Mason.
Glancing to my left purely out of instinct from knowing someone’s there incites shock and fear both. Liam Olsen stares back at me. He pushes off of the wall, exhaling a puff of smoke that mixes with the fog of his breath. The bright red and orange embers of the cigarette travel through the air as he walks toward me. His oxford shoes crunch the snow beneath his heavy steps.
I turn to face him, my eyes flitting between him and the exit I’ve just left. I’m not sure anyone can see me from here. There’s no light, only darkness where I’ve gone.
The moonlight makes Liam’s skin look pale and his eyes dark as he walks closer to me. I swallow the dread in my throat and greet him accordingly. “How are you, Mr. Olsen?” My skin feels numb with the cold, yet alive with fear. I’ve never actually met the man, but I know the business he had with Mason dissolving has left its mark on him.
“Where’s Mason?” Liam asks harshly, tossing his cigarette to the side where it’s instantly extinguished by the wet snow. Smoke billows from his nostrils as he comes closer, close enough to get a glimpse of his eyes. They’re nearly bloodshot and his walk uneven, but his question is forceful. I’m not sure if he’s drunk or angry. Maybe both.
“Whatever happened between you two …” I can’t finish the thought.
My voice is caught in my throat for a moment, my eyes going back to the exit where I can clearly see the guests. My heart pounds once then twice as time seems to pass in slow motionand I have to think quick. Liam takes a large step forward, closing the distance between us and I instantly take one back, although it’s on the edge of the sidewalk and my heel slips. I almost fall backward, and he catches me.
He chuckles and reeks of liquor. I push my hands against his chest as I find purchase on the sidewalk, turning my body so he’s no longer between me and the exit.
He’s drunk and he’s angry, so I’m careful as I pry his hands off me as respectfully as possible and desperately try to put more space between us.
“He’s coming,” I tell Liam breathlessly. I have to clear my throat and repeat myself to sound surer of what I’m saying, but it doesn’t fool Liam. Either that, or he doesn’t care.
“You really want a man like that?” he asks me. “After what he’s done?” he says and squints his eyes, and my throat closes with fear with the tone he takes.What does he know?