Page 5 of Lights Out

“And you, Low?” I ask. “What’s yours?”

He smiles, picking at the napkin under his cocktail. “Excellent segue. I have an announcement actually. I got accepted into a design house in Paris.”

His news stuns us silent.

“Paris?” Indy finally says. “Wow.”

“I know. I was interviewing mostly in New York and I had a connection with one of the managers I met with. She thought I’d be a good fit for their Paris location, so last week I had the phone interview. They liked me so much they hired me on the spot. Didn’t even want to meet me in person first.”

“That’s incredible, Low.” I nod. “Amazing.”

“Thanks, Kit. I’m so nervous, but it’s all I wanted, you know? I want to work around beauty.”

“What position?” Indy asks.

“It’s nothing fancy,” Lowen answers. “Design assistant. Basically, I’ll just be a designer’s bitch, but I don’t mind. You have to start somewhere.”

Ridley squeezes his hand. “It’s incredible. Congrats.”

“Thanks.” He blows out a breath. “I can’t believe I’m moving to Paris in a week.”

“Sounds like we’ll be visiting Paris soon,” Bane says.

“You’re all welcome of course. My flat is tiny, but it’s in this amazing part of town where everything is happening.”

“Do you speak any French?” Jerryn asks.

“Mais bien sûr.”

Jerryn looks at all of us. “No clue what you just said.”

Lowen laughs softly. “Sorry. Yes, my parents demanded a French education. I went to boarding school for the first ten years in Switzerland.”

“Dude, that’s a real thing?” Bane asks.

“Of course it’s real.” Lowen drags his finger around the rim of his glass. “And it’s just as awful as it sounds. Being shipped off like luggage makes a kid feel like crap. I had some good times though. I had friends, but I only saw my parents on major holidays.”

“Whoa,” Indy whispers. “We never knew this.”

“It’s not my favorite thing to talk about.” He glances at the rowdy guys playing pool for a second. “The pressure to attend an Ivy League school was intense until I proved Willow Bay’s reputation in my field.”

“Dude,” Ridley says. “You don’t act like a snobby rich kid.”

“Don’t I?” He laughs softly, but it fades as his expression turns serious. “It meant a lot when you guys accepted me. I’m not ashamed of who I am or my background, but I’m fucking tired of being judged for it. None of you ever even asked. You just took me at face value.”

“We’re not shallow pricks,” I say. “I mean, we’re pricks, but not shallow.”

Lowen’s pretty face lights up again. “It works for me.”

Indy glances up at the clock on the wall. “Damn, guys. Five minutes to midnight. Another round of shots?”

I nod. “Hell yeah. If we’re not confused and sick as fuck when we wake up, we failed big time.”

Lowen

As I throw back another shot of some god awful liquor, I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling it burn through my chest. It gives me a minute to push back the building emotions too. I don’t want to be the one who starts the water works, even if it is expected of me.

“Are French guys hot?” Ridley asks, tossing a few peanuts in his mouth.

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