“I don’t think this is a productive conversation. You’re drunk, and I’m hanging up—” He fell silent again, but now he frowned and straightened in the seat. “I’m sorry… what did you just say? Who was this? He did what?”
Therese frowned, and tried to hear what was being said. She was pretty sure the woman was weeping, but it seemed like the drunken kind of crying job, more alcohol than honest emotion.
“I’m coming right now,” Emile said as he hit the gas harder. “Stay where you are. No, I’m going to go. No, I want to have both hands on the wheel. The roads are slick. I want to be safe.”
He ended the call and then glanced at the phone as if he were wishing a lot of things were different in his life.
“You don’t have to drop me off,” Therese said. “If she’s in trouble, let’s just go to wherever she is and I’ll get myself home.”
Emile glanced over again. “I swear, I’ve told her it’s done between us. I mean, I like you. I guess that’s obvious.” He flushed in the dim lights of the dashboard. “I’m thinking, though… that that’s not where this is heading on your side.”
“It’s not because of Liza. I just…”
“I know. You’re interested in someone else. And given the way our boss’s brother looked at me tonight? When he was talking to you? I’m pretty sure it’s mutual—”
“It’s not like that with us.” Oh, God, it felt totally weird to “us” her and Trez Latimer, even if it was in the context of a relationship denial. “Really. I mean, I am totally not ready for any kind of anything with anybody.”
Emile shrugged and refocused on the road ahead. As a sad light came into his eyes, he shrugged. “When it happens, I’m not sure that it cares whether you want it or not.”
Therese put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
The man laughed in a short burst. “You know, I believe that. And it only makes me like you more.” He put his hand out again. “But I’m not going to go overboard. I understand and respect where you’re coming from.”
“Thank you. I wish there was something I could do to help.”
Emile put both hands on the steering wheel. Then he made a clicking sound with his teeth. “You know, actually, there is.”
“Anything,” Therese said. “Name it. And it’s yours.”
“Come with me to talk sense into Liza. Maybe if she hears from your own mouth that there’s nothing going on between you and me, and no possibility of anything happening, she’ll at least relax at work.” He looked over pointedly. “And it’ll help you, too.”
Therese nodded slowly. “I see your point. I’m in.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
And that was how Therese ended up walking into a club that was as dark as the inside of a hat, louder than a concert, and more blinding than a Fourth of July fireworks show. They ditched the Subaru in an open-air lot not far from whatever the place was called—shAdoWs, she thought the sign outside said?—and walked the two blocks over to the wait line. It turned out Emile knew the bouncer from his previous job, so they got right in, although that was no prize as far as she was concerned.
Bodies. Gyrating. Everywhere. Lasers shooting through the crowd like purple arrows and every single one of them landing in her eyeballs. Oh, and somewhere, there was a smoke machine.
Plus, dear God, from the music. Pounding. Thumping. Molar-rattling. How did these people stand it?
“Did she tell you where she was?” Therese yelled over the din. When Emile mouthed a What?, she leaned in toward his ear. “Where is she in here?”
“I don’t know,” Emile hollered back. Then he shrugged and pointed in some direction. “Here?”
Therese made the universal sign for Why not? because it was easier than trying to get heard over the music. And then she had more problems. Heading toward where he had randomly pointed turned out to be harder than communicating. There were so many humans on the floor, pushing, shoving, dancing, slipping, falling. It was as if the slick roads from the storm had come inside and there were three hundred drunk drivers careening down Caldwell’s streets.
Speaking of which, how was it possible that none of these people had stayed home because of the storm? It seemed like the inclement weather had inspired them in the opposite way, no hermitting to be found anywhere.
Then again, did she really think good choices were at the top