Eighteen
The moment they stepped back into the hall, the noise hit them like a wave. Laughter, clinking glasses, the hum of polite conversation. It felt surreal after the hushed urgency of their stolen moment. As they approached the dining tables, Ari caught Paris’s gaze across the room. A slow, knowing smile curved Paris’s lips.
Nancy saw it too. She leaned in, voice low. ‘She knows something’s up.’
‘She doesn’t know anything,’ Ari murmured, forcing a neutral expression as they reached their seats.
Paris was only a few seats down, engaged in easy conversation, but Ari could feel the occasional flick of her gaze.
The table was a sea of polite small talk and forced laughter, but between Ari and Nancy, politeness had died.
‘You’re angry with me,’ Ari said quietly.
Nancy didn’t look at her.
Ari swallowed, pushing the food around her plate. Across the table, Paris draped her arms around her hubby-to-be and pushed into his neck. It was so staged. Ari wanted to be sick.
Ari sat stiffly; her fingers curled around the stem of her wineglass as the conversations at the table swirled around her. Nancy wasn’t looking at her, but Ari could feel the tension humming between them—loud. Across the table, Paris was the picture of the blissful bride, her gaze landing on Ari every so often with an air of quiet amusement. It made Ari’s skin prickle.
She had expected pushback from Nancy when she clocked the plan. Hell, she’d half-expected her to walk away entirely. But the look in Nancy’s eyes—she was disappointed in her. Ari hated how unbearable that felt. But there were bigger things at stake. She couldn’t let it sway her.
She forced herself to take a sip of wine, but it did nothing to wash away the unease sitting in her stomach. The necklace was somewhere in this house. She knew it. And whether Nancy liked it or not, she was going to get it back. Just not tonight. Nancy had put her fire out. But it wouldn’t stay dead. This wound went too deep.
Paris laughed at something her fiancé said, a smirk still playing on her lips as she flicked the smallest of looks to Ari. Ari resisted the urge to glare. She didn’t want to give Paris the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to her.
But she was.
She hadn’t thought about her and Paris for a long time. Not really. Not beyond the sharp pang that came with knowing Paris had taken something from her. But now, surrounded by the same kind of lavish celebration they used to mock together, the memories crowded in.
Paris had always known how to work a room. Even when they were together, Ari had sometimes felt like she was just one more person caught in Paris’s gravitational pull. But then there had been the quiet moments, the ones that made Ari believe she wasn’t just another admirer. Late nights curled up in Ari’s flat. The way Paris’s fingers would tangle in her hair absentmindedly, looking at Ari as if she was something precious, something worth holding onto.
And then it had ended. Messily. Painfully. In a way that left Ari wondering if any of it had ever been real.
‘You look like you’re about to set something on fire,’ Nancy muttered under her breath.
Ari glanced at Nancy, who was still not quite looking at her. ‘Maybe I am.’
Nancy finally turned, arching a brow. ‘Yeah? You going to burn the place down before or after you steal the necklace back?’
Ari exhaled sharply, shifting in her seat. ‘I told you, it’s not stealing if it’s mine.’
‘Tell that to the police when you inevitably get caught in a place you don’t belong.’
Ari clenched her jaw, forcing herself to keep her voice quiet. Even in the din of the room, she was aware of the wrong word ringing out. ‘I’m not getting caught.’
Nancy shook her head and went back to picking at her food. ‘Give it up. It’s just a thing.’
‘You don’t get it,’ Ari told her.
Nancy didn’t respond to that, just took a sip of her drink, her expression unreadable. Ari wanted to push, wanted to force Nancy to understand it. Understand her.
But before she could, Paris stood, lifting her glass for a toast.
‘If you will allow me one quick toast. To love,’ she said, smiling as murmurs of agreement rippled through the guests.
Ari barely resisted rolling her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was raise her glass in any kind of toast led by Paris, but the last thing she needed was to draw more attention to herself. She lifted her glass begrudgingly, taking the smallest possible sip as Paris’s gaze settled on her. Ari was annoyed because Paris really thought Ari was jealous of her and the stuffed Tom Ford suit she was about to wed. He could have her. Ari would have sooner crawled into bed with a cluster of tarantulas than ever touch Paris again.
Ari set her glass down with deliberate care. She wasn’t going to let Paris win. She could have the world’s most lavish wedding and have every person at it think that Ari was bitter about the one that got away. Ari gave no fucks about that. But Paris wasn’t keeping that necklace. Ari couldn’t live with that.
She wasn’t going after the necklace tonight, though. Nancy had her eyes on Ari now, and she’d make it impossible.
But this wasn’t over.