six hundred square feet of space with her is starting to wear me down and I’m not in the mood to get caught up with unnecessary chatting.
I’d love to move out already. The problem is that I don’t have much in my savings, and it’s going to be almost impossible to get approved for an apartment when I don’t have proof of income or any sense of how many jobs I’ll actually be able to book over the next few months. And deep down, I’m still naïvely holding out hope that Luka and I can work things out.
I shake off the thoughts as I finish getting ready.
By the time I arrive at the Top, I’m feeling a little better. Girls’ night is just what I need. A hostess shows me to a private room in the back, but I’m so busy taking in the fun 1920s decor that it takes me a moment to realize that the table she’s leading me toward has more bodies around it than just Tori and Emzee.
Luka is sitting there. Stefan, too.
I pull up short, the lightness in my heart turning to instant anxiety. It must show on my face, because Tori’s smile falls as she stands to greet me.
This whole night was a trap.
“Sorry,” Tori whispers as I take a seat between her and Luka. “It was Stefan’s idea.”
I turn toward Luka, but he avoids my gaze when I try to catch his eyes.
“Hello, boys,” I say with a tight smile. “So nice you could join us for girls’ night.”
Emzee snorts and looks away, studying her manicure. Her nails are a shimmery midnight blue, speckled with tiny gold stars. “I love your nails,” I tell her, and she rewards me with a grin.
“I get them done at this tiny shop in Near North Side. I’ll invite you next time.”
Before I can respond, Stefan clears his throat pointedly. “The reason we’re all here is—”
“Can I get you all started with some drinks?” a waiter asks, appearing out of nowhere.
With a humorless smile, I grab the little menu on the table and ask for the most alcoholic-sounding thing I can find. “Make it a double,” I add, noticing Emzee flash me a little thumbs-up.
Once we’re all done ordering, Stefan crosses his arms on the table and takes a breath.
“Look. I just need to know if whatever—” he pauses to gesture between me and Luka “—this is, will negatively impact all the hard work we’ve done to boost DRM’s image, or if the two of you are going to work it out on your own before it gets to that point. Because for weeks I’ve heard nothing but nonstop gossip about your marriage, and frankly, I’m over it.”
“I hardly think I can be held accountable for malicious rumors—” I start, but then Stefan reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a few photos, slapping them down on the table. They’re of me and Mateo at a club in LA.
My stomach sinks. Beside me, Luka says nothing.
Stefan scrubs his hands over his face and then addresses me and Luka both. “How bad is this? Luka, is your drinking becoming an issue again?”
“No,” he says firmly. “Well, maybe a little. But not like it was before.”
“That’s really not it,” I say, backing him up.
“Are either of you having an affair?” Stefan prods.
“It’s not my place to speak about Brooklyn’s extracurricular activities,” Luka says sourly.
“I’m not,” I say. “Mateo’s a friend. Just a friend.” For some reason, knowing my husband is suspicious of me and Mateo doesn’t make me feel any better. But who knows what Luka’s been up to since I moved out. “Are you having one?” I ask Luka, in front of the entire family.
“How could you think that?” he says incredulously, finally facing me. Shaking his head, he moves his chair farther away. We’re getting nowhere here.
“O…kay,” Stefan says, sighing. “So what is it, then? Are you two together? Not together? For the sake of DRM and our family, I need to stay on top of this. Whatever it is.”
“I…don’t know,” I say.
Just then the waiter comes back with our drinks, and we all take a few healthy swallows. Except for Tori, who ordered a cranberry juice. She just stirs hers around with the straw, avoiding everyone’s eyes.
The silence continues as we nurse our drinks. It’s the uncomfortable kind.
“So?” Stefan says impatiently, setting his whiskey tumbler down with a heavy clunk. “Speak! Somebody. Anybody. Is this about Maxilene?”
My cheeks go hot, and I feel embarrassed that