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“Your table?—”
“We didn’t get a table!” I cut in. I originally wanted to, but it was way out of my budget.
The woman jabs her painted nails over to our right. “Someone did!”
Pursing my lips, I follow the woman to an area just off the dance floor. There are a number of booths here, their black surfaces glossy as wet tar. The round table in the center hosts a huge ice bucket with several dark glass bottles sticking out.
“Holy shit, someone bought us bottle service?” Clara asks.
I’m the closest to the table, so I spot the note before they do. Picking up the matchbook-sized square of paper, I read it with wide eyes. It’s the same neat and tidy handwriting as the note that was left in my bag.
I knew that dress could drive a man crazy. Sometimes I hate being right.
And then to top things off, there’s a Hello Kitty’s face drawn at the very bottom of the note.
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
It’s fromhim.
Nadia snatches the note from my fingers, reading it an inch from her nose. Laughing, she smacks me on the arm with it. “Itold you!He’s got it bad for you, Emily!”
“Nadia …”
“Ladies.” She faces the other four girls with her hands on her hips. “Back me up.”
Meghan lifts a bottle from the ice. “I mean, if a guy boughtmeDom Perignon, I’d take that as a hint he liked me.”
“Did you girls know that I caught that guy coming out of our room when I landed? And Emily hereinsistedthat they weren’t doing anything even though she was soaked in sweat and her hair was a mess.”
A chorus of overlapping voices rises, and I do my best not to sink into the couch. I can’t muster an argument. I don’t want to.
“And believe me,” Nadia continues. “That man was F-I-N-E.Fine!”
“Emily, youhaveto go thank him for all of this!” Clara yells as she gestures at the couch and the table and the bottles of champagne.
“I don’t?—”
“Yes, you do.” Nadia holds her hand up. “He must be around here somewhere. Hey, do you think he owns this place or something?”
“I have no idea.”
“Well, go find out, then!” Meghan interjects.
Nadia collects the glass flutes, passes them around, and gestures at Meghan. “Pop the cork! We’re celebrating my maid of honor gettinglaidtonight!”
“I thought we were here to celebrate you getting married in six weeks?” I remind her as my glass is filled.
“We can do both. Besides, we have three whole days ahead of us to celebrate me! Right now, you have a mission.” She holds her glass high. “Remember my order?”
“I’m trying my best not to.”
Leaning close, Nadia clinks her glass on mine. “Too bad! Because I’morderingyou as the bachelorette to thank him and then climb him like a goddamn tree!”
My stomach folds in half as the other girls echo Nadia’s words. Each of them is grinning at me excitedly. The pressure to agree to Nadia’s terms is overwhelming. They’ve allowed themselves to become invested in this silly scenario where I end up in bed with a hot stranger who buys private tables and a whole bucket of Dom Perignon like it’s nothing.
It’s absolutely ridiculous.
What’s the worst that can happen?
