146 An Evening’s Ease, A Curt Command
146 An Evening’s Ease, A Curt Command
“Well, I’m d she’s making aeback.”
ra’s cheeks flushed slightly from the dancing and the drink. Her hair, usually perfectly styled, hade slightly loose, framing her face in soft waves. As she moved with increasing confidence, several patrons nced her way, drawn by the rare sight of someone genuinely enjoying themselves rather than putting on a show.
“I need to take this,” she said apologetically. “It’s Mr. Newman.”
The soft jazz music enveloped ra like a warm embrace as she settled into the plush lounge chair. The bar Julian had chosen was the perfect blend of sophistication andfort–not too shy, not too dull. Just right.
Then her phone vibrated in her clutch.
Hispanion nodded thoughtfully. “Thorne is either blind or a fool.”
Julian’s jaw tightened. “And he expects you to just drop everything andply?”
They made their way through the crowd to the bar’s entrance. The night air was cool against ra’s flushed skin as she answered the call.
Hispanion, a tall man with sharp features, nodded. “Yes. Impressive woman. Her work in Al recognition systems is revolutionary.”
ra looked down at her phone, then back at the bar where they’d been having such a wonderful time just minutes before. The contrast was stark–joy versus obligation, freedom versus constraint.
“I’m… not sure,” ra admitted, lowering her phone slowly. “He said Damien needs me to pick him up tomorrow at noon.”
Julian’s expression softened. He touched her arm lightly. “Are you going to go?”
“None.” ra’s brow furrowed. “Just amand, basically.”
Xavier couldn’t take his eyes off her. “She’s magnificent when she smiles, isn’t she?”
ra felt awkward at first, too conscious of her movements. But as the minutes passed and the martini’s warmth spread through her system, she found herself rxing. The
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146 An Evening’s Ease, A Curt Command
music seemed to seep into her bones, guiding her body naturally.
“There she is,” Julian said softly. “The ra I remember from college. The one who knew how to enjoy life.”
ra stood frozen, phone still pressed to her ear, staring nkly ahead.
“You’re right,” she admitted quietly. “And I hate that.”
As Julian walked away, ra took a sip of her cocktail and let herself sink deeper into the chair. When was thest time she’d done something like this? Just sat in a nice ce, enjoying a drink with no expectations, no disappointments waiting around the
corner?
Before ra could respond, Mr. Newman added, “Come pick me up tomorrow at noon,” and immediately ended the call.
“That’s it? No exnation?”
The realization made her both sad and determined. She deserved more evenings like this.
“Here you go,” Julian said, setting a vibrant cocktail in front of her. “Pomegranate martini. Strong enough to help you rx, but not so strong you’ll regret it tomorrow.”
The music shifted to something a bit more upbeat, and Julian spun ra again, drawing augh from her that seemed to brighten the whole room.
“Apparently.”
“All the more reason to start now,” he insisted. “Come on. The music’s perfect.”
Julian ran a hand through his hair, looking away. “That’s not the point. The point is that even after all this time, when Thorne snaps his fingers, everyone jumps–including you.”
The way he said it made it clear he didn’t actually care if he was interrupting. ra straightened her posture instinctively.
“Ms. Dubois is like a me–bright, immediate, consuming. But Mrs. Thorne…” Xavier paused, choosing his words carefully. “She’s like moonlight. Subtle, but she illuminates everything around her without trying.”
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“I’m sorry,” she told Julian, stepping back. “I should check that.”
“From his office,” he replied, his tone suggesting this should have been obvious. “He will exin the rest when you arrive.”
Across the room, Julian returned to ra’s table, extending his hand with a dramatic flourish. “May I have this dance, Ms. Vance?”
“Not at all,” she lied. “What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Thorne requires your assistance tomorrow,” Mr. Newman stated tly. “Come pick him up at noon.”
Across the room, Xavier Wilson observed ra from his position at the bar. “That’s her, isn’t it? ra Vance?”
Julian led her to the small dance floor where a few other couples were swaying to the jazz quartet’s smooth melodies. He ced one hand respectfully at her waist, taking her hand with the other.
Julian’s smile dimmed slightly, but he nodded, “Of course.”
“Different how?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow.
His words stung because there was truth in them. ra had been enjoying her first carefree evening in months, and one phone call from Damien’s assistant had instantly shifted her focus, her priorities.
ra retrieved her phone from her bag. Mr. Newman’s name shed on the screen.
“Mrs. Thorne,” came the crisp, businesslike voice of Damien’s personal assistant. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”
raughed, the sound light and genuine. “I haven’t danced in years, Julian.”
Xavier’s gaze remained fixed on ra. “There’s something about her that’s different from Ms, Dubois, isn’t there?”
“Just an observation,” Xavier replied, lifting his ss. “Ms. Dubois draws attention deliberately. Mrs. Thorne seems to capture it without even knowing her power.”
“I don’t know,” she said finally, and the admission felt both terrifying and liberating. “I honestly don’t know.”
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“See? Not so terrible,” he said as they began to move.
ra hesitated, then set down her half–empty ss. “Fine. But don’t me me when I step on your toes.”
ra blinked in surprise. “Pick him up? From where? And for what purpose?”
She tried to ignore it, but years of conditioning made that impossible. What if it was about Cora? What if there was an emergency?
“Seven years of friendship will do that,” Julian replied with a wink. “I’m going to say hello to some colleagues at the bar. Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”
Julian’s expression shifted from disappointment to concern. “Let’s step outside. It’s quieter there.”
The man chuckled. “Poetic analysis of our business associates, Xavier?”
“He didn’t know you were with me, Julian,” she pointed out gently. “And we didn’t have specific ns for tomorrow, did we?”
“Did he even acknowledge I was with you? That maybe I had ns for us tomorrow?” Julian’s voice held a note of frustration that surprised ra.
“Julian, I’m not a child,” ra said, rolling her eyes yfully. “Go. Mingle. I’m perfectly content right here with my drink.”
There was a brief pause on the other end, as if Mr. Newman was surprised by her questions.
“Hello, Mr. Newman.”
“She’s been hiding for a while,” ra admitted, allowing Julian to twirl her gently.
Julian watched her face carefully. “What did he want?”
For the first time in months, ra felt truly free–no thoughts of Damien, no worries about Cora’s affections, no shadow of Vivienne looming over her. Just music, movement, and the simple joy of being alive.
Her heart sank. The bar suddenly felt too loud, the music too jarring. She held up phone to Julian, who frowned.
ra smiled gratefully. “You know me too well.”
the
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