Page 3 of Sinful Blaze

It is, however, spreading a lovely warmth through my aching body. Hazel may be right. This may be exactly what I need to get through the rest of the evening.

Suddenly, Hazel spots something over my shoulder. I turn to see one of the Tweedles marching toward us. “Stay here,” she mutters. “I’ll handle him.”

Before I can protest, she’s gone in a cloud of Jo Malone perfume.

I close my eyes and squeeze the bridge of my nose for a few blissful seconds. The gallery is filled with the white noise hubbub of patrons circulating and chatting amongst themselves, and for a moment, I lose myself in it.

It’s going to be okay, Daph, I tell myself. Everything’s going to be okay.

Then the microphone screeches like it begs to differ.

I hear a few taps, a blast of feedback, a man clearing his throat. Then: “Everyone? Excuse me! If I can have your attention, please…” I glance up to the stage. Conrad raises his arm and gives his admirers that signature charming smile that suckered me in years ago.

I hold my breath. This is it. He’s going to take it all back and issue a public apology. He’s going to unravel this nightmare. He’s going to?—

“Babe?”

I take an automatic, unthinking step forward…

And then freeze when Brittany emerges from the crowd before I do.

She flips her hair over her shoulder, beams at him, and takes his outstretched hand. Conrad kisses the backs of her fingers. “I know this is kind of a whirlwind, but what can I say? I’m an artist. Albeit not one who colors inside the lines, apparently.”

The whole room chuckles. I have to force myself to not roll my eyes in disgust. I can’t believe they’re buying it.

I can’t believe my paycheck depends on them buying it.

“Brittany, baby… you are my muse. The inspiration behind every piece. I can’t imagine life without you in it, constantly filling my darkness with your radiant light.”

Definitely heard that one before. Gonna pretend it doesn’t cut me as deep as it feels.

Conrad drops to one knee.

My jaw drops right along with him.

No. No. This can’t be happening…

But it is.

“Will you marry me?”

The screaming that fills the air isn’t mine, though I sure wouldn’t mind joining in, albeit for very different reasons. Brittany bounces up and down and screeches in sheer delight. If she doesn’t calm down, she’ll end up flashing the assembled crowd with more than just her side boob in that skimpy excuse for a dress.

I watch Conrad slip a ginormous diamond ring onto her finger. The exact one I’d picked out only a few months ago when he made me believe it was for me.

Nope.

Nopity nope nope nope.

I spin around on my heels and beeline back to the bar. “Absinthe. More. Now.”

The bartender lofts a brow. “How many shots?”

I think about it for zero point five seconds before I answer. “The whole bottle.”

“… Pardon?”

Before he can answer, I reach out and snatch it from its resting place. I don’t bother turning back, even as the bartender protests after me.

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