Chapter 16 It’s Getting Worse #2
"Yeah, heard about set up number two. And to be fair, my attempt wasn't a failure; it was just postponed," she said with a smile, but when Eloise let out a feminine warning growl she held up a hand.
"Okay, fine. I won't meddle. And you're right; you don't need to date.
And screw me for being that person that would ever make a woman feel like she needs to. "
Eloise laughed and leaned gently against her. "No, you're happy. And you just want me to have that too. I get it. But I am happy."
Her heartbeat felt bruised at the lie, at what she had seen moments ago of a man she couldn't have. Still, a bruise would heal, and her heart would beat along no worse for wear.
Jen pointed to the bartender then to her empty glass. "Then we will work on keeping you happy just as you are."
"I need to use the restroom. Will you babysit these seats so we don't lose them?"
Jen saluted. "On it."
Eloise did a scan of the dance floor not wanting to bump into a certain detective. Faking indifference across a dark dance floor was one thing. Faking indifference to his face and the face of his beautiful date? Entirely another thing.
The bathrooms were down a long corridor with low lighting and speakers strategically placed so that the music never stopped pulsing.
When she finally pushed through the door she let her eyes adjust to the black and white walls and tried to picture it how she saw it in the tame daylight.
During the day it was gleaming white and black mosaic tile flooring in the cafe style with black beadboard and a black and white floral wallpaper halfway up.
The chandeliers were milk glass drops in the shape of flowers.
At night it was beautiful and dramatic. There were lights underneath the black baseboards and the wallpaper looked like the most intense still-frame of an old picture taken in the middle of a garden at the height of spring.
She quickly used the restroom after waiting and as she was washing her hands she looked into the mirror and stopped with a gasp when she saw a pair of eyes looking at her. A woman she didn't know was staring and when she realized she was caught she laughed self- consciously.
"I'm so sorry. I just, you have really pretty hair." She pulled on the paper towel holder, her face turned away and her shoulders held in a pose of embarrassment.
"Oh no, it's fine. You just took me by surprise. And thank you." Eloise laughed as she shook her hands free of the droplets of water. When she went to grab a paper towel there were none.
"Here," the woman said gently.
She took the offered paper towels thanking her.
"Your hair color is beautiful too. I hope you're not wishing you had this," she lifted a curled lock, "over that," she pointed to the woman who was smiling sheepishly.
She was tall and willowy, with copper red hair, the kind you see perfectly coiled in time period films against perfect porcelain skin.
"Well, thank you. I'm Kyra," she said holding out her hand.
"Eloise."
"Eloise Willow. You live at The Lost Souls House, don't you?"
"Yeah, I guess I need to put that on my resume now," she joked.
"I bet it's kind of hard. Being called a Lost Souls witch," Kyra said, the kindness in her voice was gentle and smelled like warming honey. It made Eloise want to drag a chair from the club in here and sit and talk with her for a while.
"Actually, no. I mean, by the wrong people anything you are to them can feel ostracizing when it doesn't need to.
But for the most part, I love living in that house with my best friend and being around amazing women.
" She leaned forward, dropping her voice.
"And we don't actually practice magic. Though I would not say no," she chuckled earning a laugh from Kyra. "Are you from here?"
"I'm not. Danvers. But I come here all the time and for what it's worth, I wouldn't listen to anyone casting stones. Even if you do practice magic."
That warm honey smell was accompanied by the smell of blooming peonies, soft and velvety, rubbing against her mind in the most comforting and delicious way.
"Oh, if we had a reason to do magic, believe me I would jump in."
"So you didn't turn that Sandman boy pink?" Kyra asked with a giggle, lifting a ruby manicured hand to push her hair off of her shoulder.
"Ohmygosh no! I wish. He deserved it. Little twerp.
" She slapped a hand over her mouth realizing the words she had allowed out.
"I wasn't supposed to say that," she whispered.
"That was meant to be kept inside the privacy of our house and between us and Bess.
" Why was she sharing so much with this stranger?
Kyra laughed shaking her head. "Don't you worry. Secret is safe," she said zipping her lips with her index and thumb.
"Bess will kill me if it gets out that I'm talking about wishing to hex her ex twerp boyfriend. She's already being targeted enough."
"Oh, that's sad. She one of the witches?"
Eloise waved a hand in the air and the smell of warm honey crystalized, the smell pungently sweet. And the soft smell of opening peonies drooped into a fragrance of sun-blanched stems that hadn't tasted water in days. She shook her head and stepped back, feeling off.
"Are you alright?" Kyra's voice sounded warped.
Everything did.
And then everything came back sharp and clear. The woman was looking at her concerned, a hand raised, ready to steady her.
"I'm alright. Sorry," she said shaking her head.
"Do you need me to call someone?"
"No, thank you, though. I think I'll just head back out to my friends. Oh, do you want to meet them?"
Kyra shook her head. "No, I'm alright. Need to get back to mine, actually. They're probably about to send in reinforcements after me."
"Good friends are good that way."
"Yeah," she said, a slip in her brightness with a hint of melancholy that made Eloise tilt her head. "Well, it was nice meeting you. I'll see you around."
Eloise left the bathroom feeling disoriented just the slightest, like when you stand after sitting cross-legged for so long that stepping feels heavier and requires more concentration.
"Hey-oh! You were gone for a minute there. Line long?" Jen asked.
Tilly was sitting in the seat Eloise had abandoned and was smiling at the bartender who kept flicking his eyes up to where she sat.
In her short time in Salem she'd not seen Tilly give anyone a second glance and by the looks of Jen watching the bartender and their friend silently flirt, it was a rare occurrence.
"You should get his number," Jen said into Tilly's ear, causing her to jump in her seat.
She looked at them both wide-eyed and had the lights afforded it, they would have seen a blush on her cheeks.
"No, I want to hear about Eloise's bathroom adventure."
"You want to hear about me going to the bathroom instead of giving handsome-pants bartender your number?"
"She swore off men since-"
Tilly cut her off with a look and then pointed to Eloise with a stern, "Bathroom escapade. Now."
Eloise slid a shocked look to a resigned Jen before she gave in. "I met my own redhead."
"Do tell," Jen said as she leaned in but before she could tell her about their bathroom camaraderie, she saw out of the corner of her eye a large hand resting on the bartop a few stools down and felt something like tiny tapping fingers along the back of her neck.
Her body froze. There was a gold signet ring that she recognized, had run her thumb over many times.
But when she looked up the body that belonged to that hand was walking away, the broad back covered in a sports jacket familiar, the head of hair shorter and thinner but she was certain she knew that intimately too.
She jumped off of her stool and started toward the disappearing figure ignoring her name being called by the girls as she pushed her way through the thick crowd trying to get to the bar for libations.
She wasn't thinking, only moving on adrenaline and need.
She needed to see his face. She needed to face him.
He was pressing through the pack easier than her with his size and fortitude, something she remembered well. He was one of those men who somewhere along the way had been taught not to adhere to rules, to being told no. And his size only helped him in that regard.
She was getting closer. She could smell him.
The spice of cologne was too much spice, hitting her nose like pinpricks.
Her senses were on high alert and that tingling was stronger, more intense, until he disappeared out a black metal door into the alley.
She followed without thought, without concern because of the need that was driving her.
When she burst into the alley, dark and smelling of wet concrete that had never seen the sun, she looked around frantically. Three cats were in various states of cleaning, eating or sleeping. And no large man with a gold signet ring was walking in either direction.
Her heart was beating a familiar beat as she allowed the adrenaline to pulse through her and then she heard her name being called, deeper and more forceful than her girlfriends.
She whipped around to see Taylor standing in the doorway, the lights behind him outlining his frame as he held open the door with a strong arm, his eyes on her focused and intense.
"Eloise, what are you doing?"
"Um," she licked her lips and looked around again. Still nothing. She looked back at a frowning Taylor, his eyes sharp and his body held at attention. "Nothing. Just getting some fresh air," she explained.
His expression said he didn't believe her. "Come inside," he said.
Her brows pinched. "I'm sorry, I do not remember giving you permission to tell me what to do." Her words were aimed and they hit true when she watched as his head pulled back the slightest.