Chapter 13: Corban

“They have a dance floor,” Luna said, her arm still looped through mine.

“You’re into dancing?”

“Maybe after a couple glasses of wine,” she replied.

“Wine?” I lifted a brow. “How about a Lemondrop martini? It’s a cocktail party, after all, and I have the 4-1-1 that’s the signature cocktail of the evening. Let’s live a little.”

“That sounds pretty good, actually.” Her hand rested on the skin at my wrist, and that contact warmed me from the inside out. “Very festive.”

I guided her to one of the tables farthest from the dance floor, a midpoint between the bar and the groups of people chatting and exchanging numbers. I recognized a couple of them, faces without names, from magazines or the distant past. I hadn’t lied when I told her I didn’t have anyone else to go with.

We sat down at the table, and Luna slipped off her shawl before curling it in her lap. “I’m not overdressed, am I? Oh no, forget I asked. That woman’s the spitting image of Marilyn Monroe.”

I followed her gaze and grimaced. Okay, so I recognized one woman here. The Marilyn Monroe lookalike happened to be the one woman I hoped never to see again. Trinity.

She’d been a part of the reason I’d left to go to Japan. Not a serious relationship, but a friends with benefits situation that had escalated from her side. She’d believed we were an item. I told her I had to focus on work. It ended with my departure, and I’d effectively cut her out a little more harshly than I liked. I tried breaking it off with her, but she literally hadn’t taken no for an answer.

“What’s wrong?” Luna asked. “You’ve got a really weird look on your face.”

I tried for a smile, but it felt wrong too. “Nothing.”

A waiter, outfitted in a cotton shirt and butler bow tie halted beside our table. “Good evening,” he said above the music. “May I bring you a cocktail, sir, miss?”

“Two Lemondrop Martinis,” Luna said and grinned at me.

The waiter bobbed his head and hurried off.

A taunting voice interrupted us. “Ah, the sweet yet sour allure of the Lemondrop. You think it’s going to be delicious, but it turns to acid on your tongue. Kind of like certain people.” Trinity stepped up to the table bringing the overwhelming scent of Obsession with her. “I would expect as much from anyone who’s here with Corban.”

I restrained a groan as my hands itched at my sides. My mother taught me never to show my temper to a woman, so I fisted them to keep them still.

“Pardon?” Luna’s brow puckered. “Do I know you?”

“No,” Trinity replied and popped one of her hips. She’d chosen a short red dress for the evening, which exposed her tanned legs for miles. She knew her best features, and she used every opportunity to work them to her advantage. “But we do have something in common.”

“What?”

“We’ve both slept with Corban,” Trinity replied.

“That’s enough.” I rose from my seat and jerked the lapels of my suit straight. “Don’t speak to my date like that.” She was my date. And I wanted her to be so much more than that. Trinity would not ruin it. She wouldn’t be allowed to.

“Your date?” Trinity blinked. “Good God, you must be special.” She focused on Luna again. “Corban here doesn’t simply ‘date.’ He’s allergic to the term. If he’s dating you, then you must… have a really flexible throat?” She laughed and tossed her long brunette curls over one shoulder.

Luna didn’t make a comment. She kept her palms in her lap, atop her fur shawl, and observed our interaction as if Trinity’s outrageous behavior had struck her speechless.

“Does she speak?” Trinity asked. “Or is this a charity date with a mute?”

“You’re an objectionable human being,” I snapped. “I really don’t want to see you again, and I thought I made it clear. I’d like you to leave.”

“Objectionable human being,” she repeated with a snicker. “Sick burn.” She pressed two fingers to her nose and feigned a giggle. “Listen, darling, I’m not the one who ran off without so much as a goodbye. Like some pussy thief in the night.”

“I told you we weren’t an item. I made it clear.” My voice trembled. This was the worst thing that could’ve happened. The stricken look on Luna’s beautiful face said it all. Only too much alcohol could cause Trinity to behave in this classless way.

The waiter arrived with our drinks and placed one in front of Luna, the other on my side of the table. He swept off again without a backward glance – perhaps, he sensed the mood.

Luna fiddled with the lemon wedge in her drink and inserted it between her lips.

“Don’t get too drunk.” Trinity tapped the side of her nose. “Wouldn’t want him to take advantage of you. Or maybe you do.” She gave Luna the cold once over she used as currency in social interactions, then turned and swayed off toward the bar, pausing to greet other socialites on her way.

I sat down again and scraped my palm across my forehead. “I am so, so sorry,” I said. “Really.”

“What?” Luna readjusted the chunky bracelet on her arm. “That was nothing. I’ve dealt with everything from jealous brides to angry maids of honor. A little bitchiness doesn’t bother me. It rolls off just like water off a duck’s back. A trick of the trade.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course,” she said and shrugged. “I’m an event planner. Disagreements are part of the territory. Trust me when I say I’m used to it. You don’t realize just how much I’m accustomed to that kind of treatment. Some women aren’t very magnanimous when things don’t go their way. It’s a reflection on them and not their innocent victim.”

I didn’t have zero accountability in the situation, so she was probably being too kind to me, but I’d take it. “I hope you don’t have to put up with that kind of thing all the time.”

Luna snorted, then choked on her drink. She grabbed a napkin and dabbed at her nose, eyes watering. “Shoot, I almost went full fountain.”

The mood lightened a little after that, but I could tell she was curious. Every few minutes, she’d glance over at my sort of ex and purse her lips.

“We didn’t actually date,” I said at last, wanting to explain. Needing to explain. Luna deserved the truth from me in this and everything else. I enjoyed her company. If I hadn’t been crazy attracted to her like a magnet and steel, we’d probably have been good friends. She had the spunky attitude I liked. No wonder she was friends with Ross and Larissa.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she said with a small smile. “I understand it’s private, and it’s not my place to pry. Another trick of the trade.”

“Trinity always leaves me nauseous,” I replied. “And it’s not private. It can’t be because it wasn’t anything special. I know that sounds harsh, but it wasn’t.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, look, uh, well–”

“Hey, you don’t owe me a detailed explanation,” Luna said. “Really.”

“Nah, it’s good talking about it with someone who’s not judgmental. I think a lot of the people I know, I used to know, judged me pretty harshly for leaving the situation.” I adjusted my tie. “Trinity and I were friends with benefits, and she wanted more. I told her I wasn’t interested in a relationship, but she wouldn’t take me seriously. Eventually, I got the chance to leave for Japan, and yeah, I took it. I told her, but she didn’t believe me then either. She turned into quite the little social media stalker. I almost had to delete my Facebook, but since I use it for networking…”

“Wow,” Luna replied. “She did that?”

“Yes. She’s pretty much the most self-involved person you’ve ever met. Anyway, when I did leave, she turned all our old friends against me.”

“So that’s why you don’t know anyone,” she said, a frown lacing her elegant features. I found I wanted to replace it with a smile. While on the subject of Trinity, that wouldn’t be possible.

“Yeah, that and I was in Japan for years. I could tell you where to get the best miso soup or sushi, but friends here? Nah. I’ll pass on most of my clients and business associates. A lot of the folks here are pretentious. They’ll side with you as long as you play along, make nice, but the minute you decide you don’t want to do that anymore, it’s game over.”

“I can totally relate to that.” Luna cleared her throat. “I mean, in a professional capacity, of course.” She broke eye contact and focused on her drink while I focused on her full lips as she sipped the yellow liquid. God, I wanted to dance slow with her, hold her in my arms, and pull the lush lower one into my mouth.

We sat in silence for a while, people watching while sipping our cocktails and enjoying the vibe in the venue. People laughed and chattered by the bar, others danced, and the waiters swept between the groups of folks, carrying trays or delivering drinks. The bartenders worked their magic, mixing drinks in silver canisters or tossing bottles and catching them again.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been anywhere like this,” Luna said. “I usually just stay home, do yoga, and eat meat out of a can.”

“But you used to come out to cocktail parties before?”

She took a little lick of sugar from the rim of her martini glass and nodded. My cock twitched inside my formal suit pants. Shit.

“Weird that I never saw you around. Maybe it was after I’d already left. The social scene in the Twin Cities is pretty tight.”

“Maybe,” she said but didn’t elaborate on the thought. She’d been closed off when it came to her past, so far, and I didn’t want to push her and get her to clam up completely. Then all bets would be off when I wanted to have an ace in the hole. I wanted to know more but at a pace that suited her. That suited both of us.

“God, how good do those desserts look?” Luna asked and pointed at the long, table packed with cakes, cheesecakes, trifles, cream tarts, and every other type of sweet imaginable. Shoot, there was even a punch bowl in the center of it. “Why isn’t anyone eating them?”

“Are you kidding? You think any of these mini-celebrities will consume sweets?” I laughed. “You’d have better luck with a table of tequila shots.”

She laughed too. Another song came on – a remix of some Justin Bieber tune – and she perked up. “Hey, do you wanna dance?”

“Yeah, let’s go for it.” We both downed the last of our cocktails. I rose and offered her my hand.

She took it and followed me through the crowd of dancers. We stopped beneath the swirling silver disco ball and danced until a thin sheen of sweat broke out across my brow. Well, Luna danced, spinning, laughing, shaking her hips, and I kinda just bobbed up and down on the spot. I’d never been gifted in the dancing department. I hoped she wasn’t contemplating my bedroom skills since they say that men who are great dancers are great lovers. If she stuck with me, she’d find out differently.

I risked placing my hands on her hips. She bit her lip and batted her eyelashes at me. We swayed in time to the slower music, drawing closer to one another, moving in time with the beat. We were almost cheek to cheek – if she’d been a little taller we might’ve been – and her full breasts were pressed against me.

I slipped one of my hands up her spine, smoothed over the sequins of her dress, and rested it at the base of her neck, my thumb feeling for her pulse. She met my gaze and worked her hips, not quite grinding against me but doing enough to make me want to lose it in the middle of the dance floor in front of Trinity and all these other uptight social climbers.

The song changed, and Luna’s face lit up. “This is my jam,” she yelled and spun out of my grip.

The moment shattered, but I didn’t care. Luna’s excitement was infectious. She struck a pose and flung her hand up. The chunky bracelet on her arm flew off and struck the disco ball above us. It ricocheted off the silver squares and thwacked her in the forehead.

She teetered on the wooden dance floor, gripping the sore spot, and stepped in a puddle of spilled punch.

“Holy Mother of God.” I started forward, my own arms pinwheeling in a desperate attempt to keep my balance as I did my own awkward slip and slide. “Luna, look out.”

But it was too late. She backpedaled, arms flailing. People parted around her like Moses parting a human sea, women and men spinning to witness the impending disaster – her humiliation, their entertainment. After a noble attempt to keep upright, her feet slipped out from underneath her. She turned and crashed right into the center of the dessert table. The punch bowl shattered on the floor. Cheesecake splatted on the wood.

Luna lay across the table, the hem of her dress riding up, and struggled upright. She put her palm in the trifle and withdrew it with a yelp.

I rushed to her side and helped her up. “Are you hurt?” I asked.

She shook her head, mute. Rosy red had spread across every inch of her exposed skin.

Laughter bubbled behind us, a growing chorus of mirth at her misfortune. And Trinity led the damn charge. She stood there, arms folded, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes, chortling like a bad re-run of Sabrina the Teenage Witch.

“Come on, let’s go,” I said. “We’ll get a room upstairs and get you cleaned up.” I led her across the dance floor, careful to avoid any other misleading puddles, and out to the lobby. It took me five minutes to get us a room and upstairs.

Luna kept silent all the way. She didn’t cry or complain. She stood there, beautiful in her ruined dress with a cacophony of carbohydrates dripping from every inch of her and waited. I placed my arm around her shoulders and guided her to the elevator. “Don’t worry,” I said, “we’ll get you cleaned up in no time.”

She nodded once.

“Luna, are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she said in a whisper. But I got the impression she wasn’t all right. Maybe she hadn’t been for a long time.