Chapter 8
Corrine
“Will you come home with me this weekend?” Riley asks me. We’re on the phone as I’m finishing things up at one of the museums. We have a big event this weekend, and the contemporary artist exhibit is always sure to bring a decent crowd.
“Can it wait until Saturday morning?” I ask. “Less time is better.”
“If you can’t go until then that’s fine,” Riley says, and I hear her turn on the shower.
“Are you seriously just getting ready? It’s 11:00 AM!”
“Shut up!” she laughs. “We’re newlyweds.”
“Gross,” I say. Then, curiosity gets the better of me, and I ask “Have you seen Xavier since last weekend?” It’s Thursday, and I know Riley’s been going into the office more frequently.
She hesitates, drawing out a long “Yes.”
“Why did you say it that way?” I ask.
“Because he’s been kind of a dick. At least according to Kaz. He snapped at her I guess… and Jamison put him in his place. But they’ve all been on edge..” she continues. “They have been trying to find Sasha, remember?”
“Yeah,” I say. Of course, I remember. They’ve forced me into all this shit.
“Well, they are planning to try and find out more from her this weekend. And I told Sebastian I don’t want to be around for anything that has to remotely do with Nate or Lockhart.”
“So you need an escort?” I scoff.
“No, Corrine. Mom and Dad want to see us. They think you spend your time partying all night at after-parties and they think I’m knocked up and just not telling them. Let’s just go put them at ease.”
“Well, I do spend my nights at after-parties these days. So that’s not wrong.”
“Whatever,” she says. “Pick you up at 9:00 on Saturday?”
“Sure,” I say. “But you’re explaining the whole Xavier thing to them. I’m over it.”
“Of course,” Riley says. Then softer, “You don’t have to tell them anything you don’t want to.”
“See you Saturday,” I say and get back to the catering order on my desk. My assistant generally takes care of these things, but lately, I need closer control over the details of the events I manage. Perhaps this is because all aspects of control in other parts of my life seem to have fallen away. Fucking Xavier.
I make some remaining phone calls and touch base with my crew, which is top-notch for the events in the city. Though everything is planned and accounted for, I can’t seem to make myself go home. I just don’t want another evening alone, wondering if Xavier remembers any of our last few months together.
Instead, I call friends and see if they want to go out tonight. Maybe we will go to one of my favorite clubs from days past; it’s a bougie sex club but unless you’re a member, you would never know. It’s luxurious and dark, and most importantly, there are plenty of nooks and corners to sit and observe. That will help my mood, I think. Watching someone get fucked relentlessly by a stranger. I mean, it can’t hurt at least. Right?