20. Sara
20
SARA
I can’t believe Jack just admitted he paid for the Jeep.
Who does that?
I also can’t believe he just revealed his financial struggles, which obviously floods every crevice of my being with guilt, because even though I played the part of damsel in distress embarrassingly well, I really could’ve figured it out on my own.
I’m not New York socialite rich, but I earn a very decent salary with excellent bonuses. I could have covered it, eventually.
Now Kandi and the entire SB team have us surrounded, all while Jack’s face continues to contort as though he’s been forced to swallow an entire case of lemons. He glares from Kandi to me, his face a shape shifting trifecta of bemusement, disgust, and point-blank vexation.
Unease settles in the pit of my stomach. A combination of feeling terrible for breaching the unattractive topic of money, and something else…
Something to do with the fact that Jack and I are no longer alone. Something about not being quite finished talking, just the two of us.
Now it feels crowded.
Which probably has everything to do with the fact that Kandi loves to fill every space with her mean girl presence.
“Kandi,” I groan. “What do you want?”
I know her arrival has everything to do with the fact that I probably looked like I was enjoying myself, and she can’t bear to stand by and watch such a thing occur in plain sight.
“She wants to know about your hiking trip,” Francis replies for her when she fails to answer because she’s no longer paying a shred of attention to me. Instead, her eyes fixate on Jack, who looks like he’d rather be plotting arson than involve himself in this conversation. What’s gotten into him?
I’m about to lean toward him and ask if everything’s okay when Drew appears next to me. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since Maine. We grin at each other, exchanging glances that promise to catch up with the other at some point. I’m relieved things aren’t awkward between us.
Then, I see Francis eyeing me curiously before looking over at Jack. Probably dying to know what we were talking about.
I tear my eyes from the others and shoot Kandi a tired glare. I also pray that Jack will remain mostly silent about my hike rather than engage in conversation that could damn me in front of my peers.
“The hike was fine,” I say. “I mean, I experienced a couple small mishaps, and I probably won’t be repeating anything like that for a long time, but I was there. I hiked. I did nature things. Right?” I look at Jack.
All eyes fall to him.
But he doesn’t say anything .
I scoff, prompting him again. “We met on the trail, right?”
Francis’s eyes widen. His face is a mixture of shock and delight. It’s the face he makes when presented with fresh gossip in the office.
Drew is also looking at me weirdly, his eyes shifting between Jack and I.
Discomfort swells inside me the longer Jack remains silent.
I shoot Drew a painful look, pleading for him to do something.
“Uhh…” he stutters. “Yeah, that’s right. I was in her hotel room when she got back.”
I close my eyes, the thumping bass drowning out my groaning.
Francis and Kandi snort simultaneously.
“Smooth.” Kandi rolls her eyes, leaning in to deliver another razor-sharp barb. “Getting Drew to lie for you? Really?”
Before I can respond, she links arms with Francis, flashes Jack a sultry glance, and slinks off into the crowd. I only have a moment to flash an angry stare at Jack before he nods collectively to the remainder of our party, says a brief, “Excuse me,” then turns his back on us. He’s immediately summoned by a couple of swaying men, who draw him into a conversation he appears only too happy to be a part of.
And then I’m alone with Drew. “Sorry, I panicked.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay, I put you on the spot. But I thought you wanted to keep the whole thing a secret?”
“I already told people I went to hike some of the trail.” Then in a lower voice. “It was just the whole naked with cream stuff I wanted to keep a lid on. Because uh…I realize now how dumb that was.” I’m about to tell him to forget the wh ole thing when he steps forward. “Hey, do you think if I’d just waited until you got back, you’d feel different about me now? If I’d been more patient?”
I’m not sure how to respond. It’s not a question I want to answer right now, especially since I know the answer is sure to sour the air between us.
“I don’t know, Drew.” I sigh. “I mean, honestly, you’re…gorgeous, and you were so cool about the whole thing back in Maine, but I think we’re just too different. I…”
“What happened to my drink?” Kandi’s voice grates between us as she bats her lashes at Drew. He looks like he wants to say more but ends up flashing me a resigned nod before going after Kandi.
Which is a relief…because there’s something I need to do.
It’s a dumb idea. So dumb, and most likely fueled by martinis and the intoxicating fumes of rare designer perfumes, but it’s the only one I’ve got.
I reach the bar where I signal to a bartender finishing up an order of shots.
“Could I trouble you for a pen?” I ask while reaching across the gleaming surface to pluck a white napkin from a golden square holder.
He obliges, producing not only a slim golden pen, but also a shot of tequila from the tray.
I down the shot, then, before I can change my mind, I lean against the bar, pressing pen to napkin.
After five or so minutes, Francis floats into my periphery.
“Spill,” he says with a curious grin. “What were you saying to Vandenbaby back there?”
I sigh. Francis and I have always had somewhat of a complex relationship. Complex because I’ve never quite figured out where his loyalty lies. He’s everyone and no one’s friend, depending on his mood. Which is why I never give him more than a crumb of the gossip that fuels him. In this case, I can’t even give him that because I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“Vanden what ?” I say. “Why is everyone acting weird all of a sudden?” I sigh as I fold the napkin in two and place it on the bar.
I’m sure Francis is about to deliver a sassy retort but is interrupted when a stumbling figure moves toward us, her hands reaching for any degree of support.
Amber staggers through the crowds, eyes glazed, smile dizzy, strides humorously overcalculated. Her entire demeanor reminds me of past meetings with club security when she’d tried to convince them she wasn’t one vodka sniff from catatonic.
“I saw you,” she slurs before pinching my butt with her pointed nails. “You’ve got some serioush s’plaining to do.”
Amber clamps a limp hand over her mouth, shoulders hitching as she giggles in slow motion.
“Jeez Amber, it’s not even midnight.” I grin while Francis and I help her onto a bar stool.
“I think what she’s trying to say is, would you mind telling us what you were doing talking with Mr. Midas himself?” Francis asks before lunging to stop Amber sliding from the stool while delivering her a scathing look.
“Who?” I shake my head. “I was talking to Jack.”
“Jack? Don’t play innocent. You were talking to the person responsible for this place, and pretty much every other ritzy establishment this side of town, and beyond.” Francis waits for me to catch on. I do not.
“Are you talking about the Vandenberg Group?” I laugh obnoxiously. “No, no. That was Jack, someone I met when I was a kid.”
Amber sits bolt upright, like a sparkly corpse shot with electricity. Her arm wedges between Francis and I as she points at a large cluster of bodies gathered beside an eight-foot statue of Aphrodite. I take one step forward to confirm that the man she’s pointing at is Jack.
“No, Sara.” Another voice comes from over my shoulder. Drew steps in beside me. “ That is J Vandenberg.”
I barely have time to collect my jaw from the floor before an almighty shriek comes from over my shoulder.
I twist and watch in horror as Amber begins to tumble off her stool.
“Timber!” declares a nearby drunk.
“Amber!” I curse as her legs splay above her body, producing a perfect V. Several gasps echo from all sides as her siren-red underwear flashes like a red flag signaling danger.
There’s nothing anyone can do, apart from wait for the almighty crash that follows her tragic departure from the stool…