If- Nina G. Jones Page 0,74

the hardest working person he knew.”

Jordan would be getting a monster hug when I saw him next.

“Anyway, my rambling has a point. Danse Nocturne is proving to get a lot of attention. Not just locally, but across the states. I need representatives of the brand for appearances and such. I want you to be one, Jordan will be the other, and Louis.”

I was stunned. All my fears about having my face on camera dominated any excitement regarding the honor of being chosen.

Before I could reply, the server came back. He was handsome with luscious blond hair and grey eyes. Alana leaned seductively in his direction and eyed him like a cat lurking beneath the brush. I guess we were similar. When we wanted something—or someone—we went after him.

After some flirtatious banter and taking our orders, he left the table. The entire time my mind was still on her proposal and I was grateful that Alana being such a cougar gave me time to think.

“So you want me as the face of Danse Nocturne?”

“You already are, we’re just making it more . . . public.”

I had to accept. You don’t say no to Alana. But my stomach contorted with anxiety.

“Are you nervous about being on camera?”

“Honestly, yes.”

“Well, get over it. I won’t allow such foolishness.”

I looked down shamefully. I wish I could get over it. I wish looks didn’t matter. But I knew the reality all too well. People would make comments on online videos, people would ask, my face would become the center of attention.

“Bird, I have learned that if you don’t make a deal of things, others won’t too. Like that waiter for instance. I could take him to bed tonight. Some women would think they are too old to have someone like that. I don’t give a shit.”

That was by far, the most unique pep talk I had ever gotten.

“If you don’t want it, I can give it to someone else. But it should be you. Now, you can tell yourself that you are too old for young men, or you can fuck the blond waiter.”

She sat back in her seat and finished her glass of wine.

I nodded. It was time to metaphorically bed the waiter.

ASH

I tasted licorice as I walked towards the visiting area. It would be my first time seeing Bird since I lost my shit three weeks ago. I missed her, but I was glad that she and Miller decided to wait until I was becoming myself again before having her visit me. It was bad enough that she saw any of what went down.

I was afraid of the way she would look at me now that she knew—sympathy with a sprinkle of pity. I would never be the same in her eyes. I don’t know how I convinced myself that things wouldn’t end up back here. That this all wouldn’t end in Bird crying, my brother being thrust out of bed with his pregnant wife in the middle of the night, and my parents desperately trying to visit and me turning them away.

It’s the cycle of hurt I was afraid of. It’s why I quarantined myself. But Bird pulled me out, and now she would be added to the list of people I had let down. But this time there was something different. I yearned to get back to her, to resume the life we shared. I could do it. I messed up, but that wasn’t uncommon. Relapses happened.

I just needed to find a treatment that wouldn’t dull my synesthesia as much. It might take time, but Bird was worth the time. That is, if she wasn’t here to tell me it was over. I fully expected that.

And if she did that, then the one reason I had to try would be gone.

The ECT put me in a mental fog for hours afterward. I’d preferred she didn’t visit on a day where I had that treatment, but the show was around the corner and this was the only time she could come.

An orderly opened the door to the visiting area and I took her in for a moment. Her back was facing me. Her deep red curls nearly covered what I could see of her back, and it made me smile. Smiling didn’t come easy in this place. Her purple hue hugged her, and I was grateful that the ECT and meds still hadn’t taken that away. She would always glimmer no matter how much the rest of the world dimmed.

“Bird.”

She turned around with