Chapter 1 #2
“Maybe I will,” I tease again, repeating myself and dragging my finger up his chest. It’s a bold move, but I am so ready to let go tonight.
Amber grabs Victoria, who is currently having people scan the QR code to send me money for drinks—even though everything is already paid for. Giving the man a cute finger wave, I turn around and head toward the VIP section. I’ve never been at this level before and I’m going to fucking enjoy it!
Glancing over my shoulder, I laugh when I see Amber still fighting with Victoria, trying to drag her away before she convinces the entire club to send me money. I don’t know how Victoria does it. She’s a natural saleswoman. She could convince anyone to do anything, and they would thank her for it.
“Oh my god, leave the people alone, Vic!” Amber yells at her, finally catching up to me.
“Are you kidding?” Victoria says. “These people are paying for our whole night. We already have close to one thousand dollars, and we’ve only been here ten minutes, maybe?”
“A thousand?” I figured we would get a couple hundred bucks, but a thousand? In so little time?
“This is where the rich people are, Liv. I say you let me make my rounds.” Victoria is the first to climb up the VIP steps.
I follow behind, careful with my high heels that I don’t wear often enough. I don’t want to make a fool of myself by falling down five steps.
I would totally do that.
Even the miniature staircase is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The steps glow a midnight blue so you can see where you’re going. When we get to the top, each couch is roped off for privacy, and one of the waiters greets me with a bright smile.
Is being very good-looking a requirement to work here? Sheesh.
“Ms. McDowell?” he says. “Happy birthday. Please, follow me.”
How do they know my name already?
He shows us to a long black velvet couch. A bottle of champagne is in an electric chiller, ready for us to pop the cork and celebrate.
“I could kiss your boss!” Vic shouts, grabbing the neck of the champagne bottle. “He’s the best.”
Warmth spreads across my chest, knowing that Dr. Warrick did this for me tonight. “He really is.”
I sit on the soft sofa, the velvet rubbing against the back of my legs. My short plum-colored dress hikes up my thighs and I cross my legs, looking around the room to see who all is here, but everything is so dark.
Victoria pops the cork of the champagne, the bubbles spewing out of the bottle quick. We happily scream, hoping it doesn’t gain velocity and soak us. Victoria catches it with a flute, giving me the first glass.
And then a second.
And possibly the third, fourth, and fifth.
I’m working on my sixth when I know I shouldn’t. I’m feeling great. There’s a slight tilt to my surroundings, and a buzz that’s a little too strong, warning me not to drink anymore. Victoria and Amber go dance and they try to drag me with them.
“I’ll be there in a minute!” I shout over the loud bass.
“Okay, see you soon! I’m going to get people to send more money!” Victoria giggles, grasping onto Amber; she’s clearly had too many drinks too.
I need a minute. My head is spinning and that little voice in the back of my head is telling me to text my ex to let him know he’s missing.
“No, I can’t do that,” I slur to myself while getting my phone out of my purse. “It’s a bad idea. Why is it a bad idea?” I ask myself, tapping my chin.
“Hi.”
I look up from the blurry phone screen to see a handsome man standing in front of me. He has shaggy light brown hair, brown eyes that remind me of a doe, and a sculpted jaw—the kind only models have.
“Hi,” I reply, my inside voice telling me not to act drunk.
“It’s your birthday.” He points at my sash as he takes a seat next to me. “Happy birthday.”
I flip my hair dramatically. “Thank you.”
“You’re here alone? On your birthday?”
I take a sip of champagne while shaking my head. “No, my friends are dancing. I’m going to join them in a minute. I just needed a few to myself.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I interrupted you. I saw a beautiful woman and wanted to introduce myself. I’m Gabe.” He holds out his hand for me to shake and the first thing I notice is how large his hands are.
I’m a sucker for large hands.
“Olivia.” I meet his hand with mine and he’s unexpectedly soft; his thumb brushes over my knuckles while he grins at me.
“It’s nice to meet you, Olivia. Can I get you a drink? Maybe a dance?”
“I’d love that.”
He somehow beams even brighter. “Yeah? Great. I’m going to order you a drink that I think you’ll like.”
He gestures for the waiter and orders something, and I scoot a little closer, glad for the distraction. Gabe sat down beside me at the perfect time. To think I was about to text my ex.
We eye one another and chat for a few moment, but the longer we flirt, the more I realize there are no sparks between us. He’s fun, probably a great distraction, but I feel…nothing.
I glance down at my phone before looking up again, shocked to see a woman tapping his shoulder, and she looks pissed.
This is way more entertaining than dancing.
I watch the scene unfold, topping off my champagne, and gasp when she slaps Gabe across the face. She runs out of the room crying and without looking back at me, he chases after her.
This is why I don’t know if relationships will ever be for me.
Don’t get me wrong—I want a big family one day. I want so many kids that I lose count. I was an only child growing up and I craved that best friend, begged my mom to have another child, but she never did. She didn’t want to, especially after my dad died.
I’m not sure how I could live that kind of life without a loving partner. I know, I know, I don’t need a partner to have kids—but I’d like one—which means I have to date.
But dating sucks.
I groan, sinking into the couch, my head spinning from too much champagne. Squeezing my eyes shut to stop the swaying, I press my hand to my head and take a few deep breaths.
My drunken stupor has me thinking about my ex again. Even though we’ve been broken up for a while, it’s hard to know that all the plans we made won’t happen anymore. I don’t love him, but I miss building a future with someone, making those plans, and looking ahead.
Now, I’m starting over, and I don’t know where the starting point is. It’s hard putting so much time into someone, pouring love and energy into them, only for them to not return the effort.
I open the camera app on my phone and snap a few pictures, then type in my ex’s number. My inside voice is screaming at me to stop, but like I do every time, I ignore it.
The screen becomes blurry. I can’t see the number, but I upload a photo and press send.
Me: Happy birthday to me!!! I’m thriving.
Three bubbles appear and my stomach claws at me with anxiety, wondering what he’ll say. I shouldn’t have sent him anything. I already regret my choice.
Unknown Number: First, happy birthday. Second, I think you sent this to the wrong number. With how blurry that image is, I’m assuming you’re drunk. Be safe tonight and don’t drive drunk.
I gasp, horrified that I messaged the wrong person while relieved I didn’t end up sending it to my ex. It’s a birthday miracle.
Me: I am so sorry to bother you! It was an honest mistake. Thanks for being kind. Have a great night.
I blow out a breath and drop my phone on the table, cradling my head in my hands as a throb begins at my temples. I’m relieved I didn’t text him, but mortified I sent a drunk message to the wrong person.
My phone chimes again and I pick it up, surprised that the wrong number would text me back. I didn’t expect him to message me again. At least, that’s not what usually happens.
Unknown Number: It’s no bother at all. How old are you turning?
Me: 26. I think I might go dance with my friends now. Is it weird that I’m already tired? Also, I’m a little drunk and want food.
Unknown Number: Haha. Who isn’t hungry when they’re drunk? 26. Wow. I remember those days. You should go have fun. You’re young. Live your life.
I listen to him, wondering why I’m sitting alone on the couch for my birthday. I head down the steps and find my friends at the edge of the dance floor. They have glow sticks, sweeping them around as they move.
“Liv!” Vic shouts, tugging me closer.
The music changes to something a little slow, but sexy.
The fast movement of the crowd stops, and everyone moves their body as if they’re in slow motion.
The bass is still strong, vibrating my core.
I can’t hear anything other than the music and that’s all I want.
The strobing lights blur together, the alcohol still affecting me.
The more I dance, the worse it becomes. I lift my arms above my head, letting the music speak to me, allowing myself to let go.
And just…be.
Feeling a little too good, I take a few more pictures of me having a good time, along with a short video of me dancing. I keep my head turned so he can’t see my face. I might be a little reckless talking to this guy, but I’m not stupid. I want to keep a little mystery about myself.
Plus, it’s just for one night.
What’s so bad about that?
Me: Having the best time with the girls!!!
I debate for a second if I want to send the video. It’s only ten seconds and he can’t see me in it. It’s too dark and the lights only show that I have red hair. Other than that, he can’t see anything about me.
“Fuck it,” I slur and sway, pressing send.
“It’s my best friend’s birthday!” Amber shouts, and the people around us cheer too.
“Just scan this. Even a dollar helps our girl here!” Victoria continues her efforts to get people to send us money, and all I can do is roll my eyes.
My phone vibrates and I’m not sure why, but my heart bursts with excitement. I’m texting a stranger. I have no idea who he is, what he does, what he looks like, and I don’t care. It feels good talking to someone I don’t know. It’s like a clean slate. I get to start over with someone else.