“Actually, you’d be surprised by how much the girls in Billings can put away,” I told him. “Just a couple of days ago we—”
My cute little anecdote died on my tongue as I heard familiar voices just on the other side of the patio door. I had about half a second to prepare before Noelle stepped out into the courtyard, with Dash’s hand on her waist. I felt as if the bricks were falling away beneath the legs of my chair. So much so that I actually gripped my armrests for support.
Dash. Dash’s lips, Dash’s hands, Dash’s eyes, Dash’s longing desperation. Suddenly every image, every feeling, everything from the night of the Legacy came rushing back, hitting me like a tidal wave to the chest. Dominic and I had scored the back corner table, and in the dim light Noelle had yet to spot us, but Dash had. He had looked right into my eyes the second he arrived, as if he had expected me to be there. But then he tripped. He braced himself on one of the tree trunks to keep from going down.
My heart was in my throat. Okay. So maybe he hadn’t entirely forgotten that night.
“Dash! Are you all right?” his mother asked. She could only be his mother. Tall. Blond. Perfectly manicured and coiffed. Then his father, the spitting image of Dash, but with salt-and-pepper hair.
“Just a couple of days ago you . . . ?” Dominic prodded, unaware that anything was amiss.
Noelle finally figured out where Dash was looking and spotted me. I endeavored to smile. She whispered something to Dash’s parents and they all looked over. Dash cleared his throat about ten times and straightened his tie. Finally, at the obvious prodding of his mother, he cleared it one last time, squared his shoulders, and walked over to us.
Omigod. Omigod, omigod, omigod.
“Is something wrong?” Dominic asked.
“Dash,” I said through my teeth.
“What?”
“Dash McCafferty is here,” I said.
Dominic looked up just as Dash arrived at our table.
“Reed. Dom. How are you guys?” Dash asked, his tone formal.
“McCafferty!” Dominic cheered, getting up to hug his former dorm mate. “How are you? How is everything at Yale?”
Thank God Dominic knew him. If I had been forced to speak first, I might have thrown up on Dash’s extremely buffed shoes. As the two of them briefly caught up, I stared at the underside of Dash’s chiseled chin, a thousand questions flooding my mind.
Why haven’t you called? What the hell happened that night? Why did you get back together with Noelle? When?
And why do you have to be So. Effing. Hot?
Not that I could have said any of those things with Dominic there and Noelle looking on. Not that I could have said any of those things without dying of mortification even if Dash and I had been alone.
“Reed,” Dash said finally, turning toward me.
I looked up at him. My many queries must have been blatantly readable in my eyes, because I stopped him cold.
“I . . .” His jaw worked. “You look . . . I mean, it’s been a while.”
“Not that long,” I heard myself say.
A pang of something crossed his face. Regret? Annoyance? It was impossible to tell. And then Noelle swooped in. Her coat had been removed, but she wore the light, open-weave cardigan over her dress, camouflaging her butt crack, apparently, until she could get Dash alone.
“Hundreds of restaurants in Manhattan and here you are!” she said gaily, taking Dash’s hand. “What are the chances?”
“I’m glad you decided on this one,” Dominic said politely. “You’re in for a wonderful meal.”
“Well. Let’s get to it then,” Noelle said. “You two have fun!” She practically dragged Dash away, but not before he was able to say one last thing over his shoulder. “See you guys at the fund-raiser.”
And that was that.
Noelle and Dash joined his parents at their table in the opposite corner. Mercifully, the two of them sat with their backs to us or I would have never made it through the meal. Still, I couldn’t help glancing over every now and then and noticing how comfortable
Noelle looked with his parents. Touching his dad’s arm, making jokes with his mom. As if she was already part of the family.
Seeing Noelle and Dash together, I couldn’t help but imagine what the rest of my night would be like. Best-case scenario? I returned to the suite and Noelle came back alone to gush about her dinner with the McCaffertys. Worst-case scenario? Tomorrow at brunch I’d hear about the hours Noelle and Dash had spent in their suite, sharing their mutual admiration for the female backside.
Ew.
“You know what, Dominic? I’m in,” I said.
His eyebrows shot up. “For what?”
“The clubs,” I said, reaching for my wine. “I’d love to check out your usual places.”
Dominic danced with a champagne bottle gripped in one hand and the other hand locked around my waist. From the moment we stepped through the doors of Platinum—a place where nothing related to the name aside from the fact that everyone there was constantly whipping out their platinum credit cards to pay for insanely overpriced bottles of alcohol—he had not been without a bottle. Had he been working on the same one all night, or was this his second? It couldn’t be his third. No one could consume that much without regurging. Although from the way his brown eyes swam in their sockets, I wouldn’t have been totally shocked if that was the case.
“Having fun?” he asked, his face looming ever so close to mine. Even with that proximity, it was difficult to hear him over the deafening music.
“Absolutely!”
The DJ was amazing, after all. And the dancing was a release, as
long as Dominic wasn’t breathing in my face. Everywhere I looked I saw vaguely familiar faces. Models, rap artists, rock stars, young socialites. Champagne flowed, diamonds flashed, girls squealed and posed for pictures. I wondered how many of these moments would end up eternalized in the tabloids the next morning.
“Reed! I love this place!” Sabine shouted, throwing her arms around my neck from behind. She tugged me away from Dominic, and I felt as if I could breathe again. “Thanks for inviting us!”
“You’re welcome!” I shouted.
The moment we left the restaurant I had speed-dialed Sabine and the Twin Cities, hoping they would (a) make this part of the night more fun, and (b) give me an excuse to avoid kissing Dominic and/or going back to wherever he was staying. From the way he’d been looking at me all night, I had a feeling he had one or both in mind. Thank God Platinum had turned out to be a Twin Cities–approved destination.
I turned around to dance with Sabine. Dominic moved right in behind me, grinding against my back. I tried to ignore the invasion.
“Where are London and Vienna?” I asked.
“They saw some guys they knew, so they’re bringing them over,” Sabine shouted in reply. She glanced over my shoulder at Dominic and made a disgusted face. I was feeling a little disgusted myself. “I’m taking her to the bathroom!” Sabine yelled at him. Then she grabbed my arm and pulled me away. I had never been more grateful.
“I will be here!” Dominic shouted after us.
We got to a less crowded corner of the dance floor and Sabine stopped. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Thank you for getting me out of there, though,” I said, leaning toward her ear. “He was totally fine until he started drinking like a sponge. Now all of a sudden he’s Mr. Inappropriate Touching.”
“There you guys are!” London sang, holding Vienna’s hand aloft as she wove toward us.
They both had full martini glasses, the liquid sloshing over the sides as they walked. The guys they had brought along looked like two Abercrombie models, one with dark skin and a white shirt, the other with light skin and a black shirt. Both ridiculously hot.
“Let’s dance!” Vienna said, throwing her arm over my shoulder.
I glanced behind me, but couldn’t spot Dominic in the crowd. Who cared where he was, anyway? A few minutes without his paws all over me felt like a good idea. Plus this place was so jam-packed there was a decent chance he’d never find us again. Might not be the most polite way in the world to end a date, but at least it would be easy. And this weekend I was all about easy.
“Don’t worry about him,” Sabine told me, clearly noticing that I was in crowd-scan mode. “I’m sure he’s already molesting some other girl. Hopefully one who feels like being molested.”
I laughed and decided to just live in the moment. And so I did. I danced with my friends, letting go of everything. Letting the music move through me. Letting it shove out all thoughts of the guys I wanted and the girls they apparently wanted instead of me. Letting thoughts of Billings and its possible closing and of the strange, Cheyenne-related happenings fade. I just let it all go and had fun with my friends. Eventually white-shirted Abercrombie boy moved from Vienna to me and
we danced together for a good half hour. Unlike Dominic, any touching he did was appropriate. He had incredible rhythm and an even more incredible smile.
Hmmm. Maybe the next boyfriend of the Billings president could be a wild card. Someone from outside Easton’s walls . . .
Now all I had to do was find out who the heck he was.
“What’s your name?” I shouted, leaning toward him.
“Fine!” he replied, smiling and nodding to the beat.
Yeah. Communication was not so easy inside Platinum. Whatever. I decided to let it go and just dance. Which was what I was doing when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and had to peel my hair from my sweaty cheeks. Dominic stood in front of me, his face gleaming, the champagne bottle still in hand.
“You never came back from the bathroom,” he said.
“I couldn’t find you,” I lied.
He grinned. “Well, good that I found you, then.” He took a slug from the bottle, then offered it to me. “Drink?” he asked me for about the millionth time that night.
“No, thanks.” I wrinkled my nose. I had already downed one glass of wine at the restaurant and I did not want to get drunk. I had learned my lesson at the Legacy and the day after. Being hungover again was not in my immediate plans.
“You have had nothing to drink since we got here,” he accused.
“So?” I replied.
“So you should lighten up. Look around. It’s a party.” He spread
his arms wide and clunked a Hollywood starlet in the head with his bottle.
“Hey! Watch it!” she shouted, shoving him.
Dominic merely laughed.
“I know it’s a party, and I’m having fun,” I shouted at him. I glanced back at Abercrombie boy, but he had moved on to some chick in a pink wig, damn it. “I don’t need to drink to have fun!” I told Dominic.
Dominic snorted a laugh, wavering slightly in place, then took another slug from the bottle. “Cheyenne was right about you,” he said.
My blood seemed to freeze in my veins. I looked over my shoulder at Sabine and the Twin Cities. Apparently they had heard it too, because they had all stopped dancing.
“Excuse me?” I said.
“She was always saying how you had this stick up your butt. Which made sense, since you were from the sticks,” he said with another snort.
“Shut it, Infante!” Vienna snapped, coming over to stand next to me. London and Sabine gathered around as well. “Just because you’re a pseudo prince doesn’t mean you can talk to my girl like that.”
Dominic sniffed and took another drink.
“Wait. You and Cheyenne talked about me?” I demanded, my heart pounding a mile a minute. “When? Why?”
“Cheyenne was an old friend,” he said. “A very
close
friend,” he added suggestively. “She liked to cuddle afterward. And talk.”
Vienna and I looked at one another, skeeved.
“
You
hooked up with Cheyenne? When?” Vienna demanded.
“All the time,” Dominic replied, standing up straight. “Girl really made her way through Ketlar. But Hollis was her ultimate conquest, and now I can see why he went for her, even though he was with you. Cheyenne was hot behind closed doors. But you . . .” He looked me up and down with disdain, a complete one-eighty from the way he’d checked me out at our hotel suite. “You are kind of a frigid bitch, aren’t you?”
I felt as if all the wind had just been knocked out of me. I wanted to slap him, but before I could regain my senses, London did it for me. And Dominic was so drunk, he went down like a house of cards right there in the middle of the dance floor.
“Ow. That hurt,” London said, pouting as she shook her hand.
“Wow, London. Thanks,” I replied.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” Sabine said, putting her arm around me.
“I don’t get it,” I said as we shoved our way through the crowd of curious onlookers who were now surrounding Dominic. “He was so nice earlier.”
“Bad drunk,” Vienna theorized, giving me a squeeze from the opposite side. “I’m sure he didn’t mean any of that.”
“Right.”
She had a point. I knew from experience that people could turn into monsters when they were under the influence. Look at Thomas. My mother. Even me. Would I have hooked up with Dash that night if
it hadn’t been for all those drinks? I hoped not. I hoped that my sober self was better than that.
“So. Guess we’re scratching Dominic off the list,” Vienna said, placing our coat-check tags down at the counter near the front of the club. “Unless you can keep him sober.”
“Not likely,” I replied, forcing a laugh. Besides, I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to forget the things he’d just said, drunk or not. Dominic might have been the perfect arm candy of a Billings president on the surface, but he was clearly not for me. Besides, I didn’t want any of Cheyenne Martin’s sloppy seconds, which apparently meant most of Ketlar was off the table.
It was amazing how these boys kept reinforcing what a catch Josh had been. Amazing and really, really annoying.
The moment we walked through the doors of Barneys New York the next morning, the Twin Cities took off like a pair of sugar addicts who’d just been let loose at a chocolate factory. I glanced at Noelle and Sabine and laughed.
“Looks like we’re on our own.”
Now please just don’t kill each other.
That morning over an early brunch, we called the St. Sebastian and booked it for the fund-raiser dinner and auction. Noelle hadn’t been all that happy about it, but she had agreed with me in the end. Then we had called Kiki and Astrid to give them the dates and told them to send out the e-mail invites ASAP. Now, everything in place, it was time for a little retail therapy. The Billings Girls’ therapy of choice.