I straightened then placed the empty flute on one of the trays that passed by.
“That was Cristal.” Carvel stood there with one hand in the pocket of his tuxedo, his arm around his date.
“They all taste like shit.”
Carvel smirked slightly. “Luca, this is Irene.”
I nodded to her and barely made eye contact with her. I didn’t give a shit who Carvel was sleeping with this week.
Carvel turned to her. “He says hello.”
She gave a smile, but it was as fake and forced as my nod.
“You didn’t bring anyone?” he asked, eyebrows slightly raised because I always brought someone.
“No.” I slid my hands into the pockets of my slacks.
Carvel continued his stare. “What about that girl we just stuck our necks out for? You’re telling me you did all of that?—”
“I need a drink. A real one.” I was just about to step away when Bastien and Fleur approached, his arm around her waist.
“What girl?” Bastien waggled his eyebrows like he’d heard enough to torment me.
“Yes, pray tell,” Fleur said.
I looked at Carvel and almost pulled out my pistol and aimed it at his head.
“Here.” Bastien extended his scotch to me. “Looks like you need this more than I do.”
I grabbed it and took a long drink.
He clapped me on the shoulder and chuckled before he talked with Carvel. When Carvel introduced Irene, Bastien was far nicer about it, kissing her on each cheek before he made small talk with her.
Fleur came to my side and gave me a little bump with her hip. “You look mad.”
“Don’t I always?” I shook the ice cubes of the empty glass.
“No,” she said. “Not always.” She hooked her arm through mine, wearing a skintight black dress with a sweetheart neckline, diamond earrings in her lobes, and a fat diamond ring on her left hand. “How are you?”
“Not a fan of these things.”
“I know. And that’s why you normally bring someone, right? A buffer from conversation?”
“Well, you’ll have to do.”
She chuckled. “In case you forgot, I’m already a buffer for my husband.”
I glanced at Bastien, who was talking to Carvel, and they both laughed uproariously about some bullshit. “Looks like he doesn’t need you.” I guided her away, moving through the party and toward one of the bars on the other side of the room. “Want anything?”
“Red is fine.”
With her on my arm like she was my wife instead of Bastien’s, I got us our drinks then went to one of the round tables. Name cards had already been placed there for assigned seating, and my seat was beside Bastien and Fleur. I’d originally responded that I would bring a guest, but that didn’t happen, so the other chair beside me would be empty.
She took a drink from her glass and smeared her lipstick on the surface. “How have you been?”
“Fine.”
“Why are you so short all of a sudden?” she asked. “You know it’s me, right?”
