Tabitha let out a dreary groan, grabbed the mic from Max, and headed for the stage, yelling over her shoulder, “I’ll explain everything when we go shopping! Can’t wait!”
The band kicked into a club beat, and not a minute later she strutted across the stage, dancing and singing.
Surprisingly, people kept saying hello or nodding to me as they passed by, as though I were actually part of this crowd. Maybe they’d noticed me hanging out with Tabitha. Maybe it was the dress. Either way, mission accomplished.
I felt like I’d successfully passed in a world that seemed utterly unattainable to me only a week before. Every single moment so far had been more interesting and exciting than any moment I’d spent in South End Montclair.
I scanned the room, taking in the dancing crowd. They loved my BFF Tabitha Eden, the Princess of Pop. My eyes found ZK, who was watching me from across the room again. He acknowledged my glance and made his way toward me through the crowd.
He circled around and slid in close behind. “How do you manage to get everyone talking about you?” he said in my ear. “You’re the ‘it’ girl of the evening.” His voice sent delightful shivers down my spine.
“I’m just here to support Tabitha’s brilliant new release. And you?” Was Tabitha paranoid about ZK and should I be suspicious? It was all too much to understand, and besides he was so delicious to look at.
“Me too,” he said. “Thank goodness for lip-synching, right?”
Really? Wasn’t Tabitha actually singing? I strained to get a better view. The band was playing for real, but it was all so loud, I couldn’t tell. Tabitha danced around the stage like a crazy girl, never standing still long enough for me to see if she was actually singing.
“Next Saturday is the Schnabel opening,” ZK said over the music. “If you aren’t already going, would you give me the pleasure of your company?” Inside my head, I think my brain exploded. He wasn’t actually asking me, was he? I’d have gone anywhere with ZK, a Costco opening or a monster truck rally, as if he’d ever do that kind of thing, even to a Schnabel opening, whatever that was.
There was just one problem. “What about…?”
“Dahlia?” He glanced over to Dahlia, who was languidly laughing, surrounded by no less than five drop-dead-gorgeous Euro types, French or Italian, all with perfectly styled clothes and fashionable stubble. She was gesturing, touching each suitor eagerly waiting for her attention. I guess what they said about her in the gossip Web sites was true.
“Dahlia is a force of nature,” ZK said. “She has other amusements to preoccupy her.” I didn’t have a clue what he meant. But everything that had happened was a whirlwind; what I saw, heard, felt, and wore. Was it real or had I been dreaming?
I let myself linger on ZK for just a second longer, thinking about the way he had been watching me most of the night. He was gorgeous, rich, and well connected. I was nobody. It would be pure insanity to think that he and I could ever end up together. There was no way. I’d never be able to keep Audrey going long enough to make it work.
I saw Dahlia walking our way, and I figured it was time to go, better not to get my hopes up and spend too long at the ball.
“I’ll text you the details tomorrow,” ZK said. I nodded yes and gazed one more time into his amused eyes, wondering what he was really thinking.
If I ever wanted to preserve my memories of this charmed fantasy fling, I needed to drop out of sight immediately. I had already stayed way, way later than I’d ever expected to.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
I’d forgotten about Jake.
26
“Are you still @ club ? XOXO ME.”
I waited for Jake to answer.
Nothing.
Crap.
As I hit the summer night air outside the Soho House, I felt woozy. Watermelon and ginger sounded so harmless at the time, plus all those greyhounds before with ZK. I had reached my daily requirement of vitamin C for sure … tequila maybe more than required.
Limos were still lining up as a new shift of parties and scenes were beginning. Where had I parked the Purple Beast? The river parking lot. Right, that seemed ridiculously far away. And where was Reilly’s? I’d never been there before, although I knew it was on the strip near the diner. I was sure I could find it somehow. Maybe springing for a taxi would be the safest thing. Checking in my peacock-feathered clutch, I fished out all of fifteen dollars and eighty-six cents—barely enough to get my car out of the lot, let alone all the way to Jersey in a cab. Was Jake even still there?
“Please don’t b mad @ me :(” I texted.
“Hello, fashionable companion,” a voice behind me said.
I turned to see Isak Guerrere, my newest, bestest friend.
“Isak, it’s so nice to see you,” I said, concerned I might be a little tipsy.
“You as well, my dear. And look at you: you’re wearing another wonderful dress by your favorite designer who is not me!”
I smiled. “That’s true. I’m sorry to say.”
“What genius designed this fabulous frock? Valentino, of course, but refreshed, almost sassy. Extraordinary,” he said.
I gave him a disproving look.
“I know, I know. Designer X is a secret. But I’m the one you should be telling all your secrets to!” he said. If only I could. “At the very least, you have to introduce this Designer X to me. I insist!”
“I promise,” I said.
“Well, you can make up for it by having a drink with me at the bar. I hear your friend, Tabitha Eden, is playing in the Drawing Room tonight … What do they call her? The Princess of Pop? Everyone is royalty these days!”
“Regretfully, dear Isak, I am quite late and must be going.” I made a sad face.
“Quelle dommage,” Isak said. “Just another disturbing pattern in our relationship. You always seem to be leaving as you see me. Is it the jellied hair? I know. It’s an acquired taste,” he said with a sparkle in his eye.
My phone buzzed—Jake? I grabbed a peek. No, it was Jess.
“Howzit going ?! I’m dying to know !! :)”
I sighed. Jake had forgotten by now, probably celebrating with his friends.
“Not the news you wanted to hear, I assume,” Isak said. I tried to hide my disappointment.
“No, it’s fine, Isak. I’m sorry to be such poor company, probably a few too many watermelon and gingers. I’d be careful of those if I were you.”
“Point taken. May I help you to your car?”
I hesitated.
“Well, then a taxi?”
“No, Isak, thank you,” I said. “I think … I think I’ll walk.”
“Oh my, how will you ever forgive me?”
“Pardon?”
“Right this way,” he said, grabbing me by the arm. “Please forgive me for suggesting that you take a lowly taxicab to what must be an important romantic rendezvous. I know that look…”
I was startled as Isak pulled an earsplitting two-fingered whistle.
“It’s okay, Isak, darling. You’re so nice, but I…” A limousine drove up and Isak opened the door. I stopped yammering. There was a lovely little man in the front seat wearing a chauffeur’s cap.
“Allow me to provide my limo to safely carry you to your rendezvous,” he said. He must have seen my jaw drop.
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to talk to Rudy. He talks too much anyway.” Rudy, the chauffeur, rolled his eyes and gave me a little wave.
“But I’m not even sure where I’m going…” I stuttered, astonished.
“Ah, an adventure! Wherever it is, Rudy will find it. He’s a GPS jockey, could have been one of Santa’s reindeer—actually, maybe he was.” Rudy shrugged good-naturedly. I started to get in, stopped, and turned to give Isak the biggest kiss and hug ever. He looked totally astonished.