Shelby winked. “I didn’tactuallyburn the picture.”
“You’re confusing me,” Quentin admitted.
“I’m trying to flirt,” Shelby said. “But I don’t think I’m doing a very good job.”
Quentin propped himself up against his elbow on the bar. “Ah, now I’m seeing it.” He knew that heshouldoffer to buy her a drink. It would be the polite thing to do, and she had admitted to flirting with him, and she wasn’t being rude or forceful.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked. He wondered when Joel would arrive. He would rather be buying Joel a drink.
“I’d love that,” Shelby said.
He got her a Cosmo, and they leaned against the bar, sipping their drinks and talking. She was friendly and easy to talk to, but Quentin wasn’t enjoying himself the way she was. He could see the potential of friendship with her, but nothing more than that.
The bar was loud, but not in a bad way, when Joel arrived. Like usual, he slipped in through the back. Harlan had offered to send a bodyguard with him, but Joel had turned him down. Luca’s seemed like a classy place, and Shivonne had pulled the guest list, and there was no one Joel was worried about seeing.
Nicely-dressed people danced on the floor, and couples were crowded around tables and booths and around the edge of the bar, talking and smiling. A DJ played EDM remixes of popular music, and Joel briefly wondered if he’d hear any of his music there.
So far, no one had noticed or recognized him. He wore a simple dark outfit, with a cap over his hair, and kept his head low.
He took his phone out and texted Quentin:
Hey, I just got to the bar. Are you here?
There were several other Boston players in the bar, dancing or drinking. Joel spotted Henri dancing by himself with a drink in one hand and wound his way over to him.
“Henri!” he called, shouting over the music.
Henri jumped in joy when he saw him. He looked a little tipsy. “Joel!” he screamed, throwing his arms around Joel.
“Hi, Henri! Is Quentin here?”
Henri draped an arm around Joel’s shoulders. “Yessir! Right over there.” He pointed towards the bar, where Joel saw Quentin leaning close to a woman. They were talking and laughing. “Oh, interesting,” Henri said. “Is heflirtingwith her? I never see Quentin flirt. Sorry, I’m drunk.”
“Maybe he’s flirting,” Joel said, silently stunned, and trying to ignore the fact that he was bothered by the idea of Quentin flirting with someone.
“That’s surprising,” Henri said. “I don’t think…” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’m drunk, I shouldn’t say anything.”
Joel wanted to ask what Henri was going to say, but he also wanted to respect the fact that Henri was drunk and probably wouldn’t have been as loose-lipped if he were sober. Joel wouldn’t take advantage of that.
“You should go talk to him,” Henri said.
“To Quentin? He seems busy.”
“Maybe, but I think he’s really excited that you said you’d come tonight.”
Fuck, Joel thought. Whatever this was, it was getting dangerous. Maybe he should just leave. Quentin was standing at the bar, flirting with a woman, which was entirely within his rights. He was probably straight, and there couldn’t be anything between them. Joel was making a mistake by coming here. He couldn’t let himself get closer to Quentin, because he would risk getting hurt, and would be an even bigger risk for a scandal.
Joel felt a grip of nerves in his chest. He’d made a mistake coming here, and he needed to leave.
“Henri, I’m sorry,” he said, “but I don’t think it was a good idea for me to come here. Tell Quentin I’m sorry, but I had to go.”
Henri looked at him, surprised. “Are you sure? Are you okay?”
“I am. I just…tell him I’m sorry.” Joel hurried for the back door of the bar.
Quentin was still trying to figure out how soon he could appropriately get out of the conversation with Shelby and look for Joel when Henri pushed his way up to the bar and grabbed Quentin’s shoulder.
“Hi, can I steal him for a sec?” Henri said sweetly to the girl, already dragging Quentin away.
