“I’d worry about damaging the leather. Plus, they’re great conversation starters.” He adds a smile as though his footwear is the reason we’re chatting in the first place. “Have you ever owned something that belonged to another person?”
“Not anymore.” I take a sip of water, trying to drown the memory of the musty clothes my bio mom would bring home in plastic bags. Some were so stained it looked like she’d collected them straight out of a street bin. “And hopefully never again.”
Cillian observes me for a long while, his eyebrows lowering as though I were a problem that required solving.
But then his eyes sharpen on someplace beyond me, and he scrapes his chair back. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” He rushes toward the bathroom at such a clipped pace that I assume he’s having digestive issues.
A minute later, Calanthe leaves Tarian’s side and circles the table to claim Cillian’s freed seat, punching down the crisp satin skirt enveloping her legs. “Managed to drive all your neighbors away before the main course.Impressive.”
As I drain my fourth—or is it my fifth?—cocktail, I flip her the finger.
Calanthe snickers. “A shame you didn’t succeed at it earlier. You would’ve been spared tomorrow’s dance session.”
I set my glass down. “Explain.”
“I bet Fiona you’d send your date running for the hillsbeforethe start of supper.” She motions to our favorite meddler, who’s busy arguing with Tarian that a party without some form of theatrical excess is a wasted opportunity.“She was adamant he’d stick around and added the dance-class wager.”
“Which you justhadto accept? But more importantly, why did you have to involve me?”
“When do I ever do anything fun without you?”
Her comment gives me a warm, squishy feeling—a bit like the tequila coursing through my system. I make a note of drinking palomas more often.
Once I recover from the thrill of having a friend like Calanthe, having a friend at all, for that matter, I say, “Dancing isn’t fun.”
She flicks my lap. “Kick the grouch out.”
“And be left soulless?”
“Your soul isn’t grouchy.”
“My soul is a massive grouch.”
She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, since we lost the bet, you, Mom, Fi, and I have a private Zumba class with your date tomorrow.”
“Not my date. And I’m busy tomorrow.”
“You’re busy at noon, precisely?”
“Yes. I’m going running with Mal.”
I expect her to say,How convenient. Instead, she just stares at me, unease dimming her expression. When she averts her gaze, my heart begins to thud double-time.
Calanthe drums her fingers on the table. “Look, I don’t know?—”
“I’m afraid I must leave early, Miss Bloom.” The Texas drawl comes from right beside us. “Got a work situation I need to contend with. Congratulations on such a wonderful initiative and event.”
I crane my neck, annoyed by the timing of whoever…
My annoyance takes a backseat to my surprise when I meet eyes so pale they appear translucent in the man’s bronzed face. In all my years living among Atlanteans, it’s the first time I see Gael Monta up close.
Ines’s ex-husband is—objectively—rather handsome.Ifone is into mahogany-haired men with a penchant for pomade, sunbathing, and pungent cologne. My lungs feel saturated after only a minute in his presence.
Gael’s brow ruffles when he notices me. I imagine it’s my odd-hued eyes that mystify him. They mystify most people.
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Gael Monta.”
My brother is suddenly out of his chair and shoving between us. I know Dorianreallyisn’t a fan. Few are.
