“Oh, I know,” she says, standing straight. “Now we can stay in touch when you’re gone.” She fakes a pout and wraps me in a hug. “Because I’m going to miss you.” Her words hold a hint of a slur, telling me she’s had a few drinks herself.
I hug her back, careful not to spill my pale-yellow cocktail. When she releases me, I say, “I found Rose’s profile, too.” I hold Luci’s gaze. “She talked about you in a post.”
Luci tenses. Glances aside. Gets fidgety. Looking down, she rolls the phone between her palms.
The mention of Rose makes her nervous.
And I want to know why.
“So, you hung out with her,” I say. “The two of you were friends.”
“Yeah, we… no.” Luci shakes her head as if trying to remember what she’s supposed to say. “I met her once but didn’t know her very well.”
The answer she gave me before. Verbatim.
I might not be a detective, but I know a rehearsed line when I hear one. She even hit the same beats as before.
“She tagged you in her caption and said she’d never forget the time you spent together.” Suddenly annoyed, I press harder, trying to force the truth. “That sounds like you knew her. That you knew herverywell.”
Luci doesn’t answer, just stares straight ahead and sips her drink.
“Did you say Rose?” Lyam leans sideways, his chin lifted in query.
He and a few others have migrated and are standing much closer than when I left them. How much did they overhear? Now I’m the deer in headlights, my mouth falling open but no words coming forth.
“André,” Lyam says, pointing at the tall Frenchman. “Didn’t you go out with Rose?”
He waves Lyam off. “No, I tried to date her, but she turned me down.” André presses his lips together, as if searching for what to say. “She wasn’t interested.”
“I don’t believe it,” Noah teases. “Hope her rejection didn’t bruise your ego.” He and Lyam exchange a glance, laughing at their friend.
Luci rolls her eyes and walks off. I start to call after her but stop when André’s hand falls on my arm. He glances after Luci. “Don’t worry. Her moods can change quickly.”
“Was it something I said?”
“No.” He sips his drink and shrugs. “Maybe she’s upset because I asked out Rose. I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. She’s young, and, like I said, moody.”
With Luci gone and André feeling chatty, I lean in and lower my voice. “So didyouget to know Rose pretty well?”
“Not the way I wanted to.” He looks stricken, shooting a worried look my way. But then he tilts his head. “I see no harm in telling you, since you never met Rose.” He glances at the others. “But don’t tell anyone else.”
André shakes the ice in his glass and mirrors my posture, leaning in. “Rose wasn’t interested in me,” he says with a lift of a brow, “because she was gay.”
30
Luci cuts through the crowd and leaves the blue salon. When she’s gone, I tap Noah’s shoulder. “I’ll be back.”
“The dancing has started,” he says, glancing at my empty glass. “You want another drink?”
“Sure,” I say without thinking. The way my head is buzzing tells me I’m already tipsy, but I blurt a response so I can follow Luci.
I want to get her alone for a minute. To speak to her. To apologize. Because I think I know why she denied knowing Rose.
By the time I exit to the hall, Luci is gone. I don’t see her anywhere, so I follow the slow trickle of guests moving in one direction.
Music swells as we all flow into a ballroom. Chandeliers and sconces fill the space, reflecting off decorative gold molding and pearl-colored walls. A light parquet covers the floors, couples twirling smoothly across the herringbone pattern.
I glance around and spot Luci, tucked into a corner with a blank expression on her face. Ashamed of my suspicion, and my rudeness in the salon, I weave through the growing crowd to stand beside her.
