Page 19 of Red Velvet

"Dry white wine, huh?" I remark once the waitress leaves. "I would’ve taken you for a champagne girl."

Lila huffs, and it's the first time her shoulders have loosened up since we stepped inside the venue. She leans back against the soft upholstery, finally letting go of that shy embrace and placing her hands in her lap instead.

"I have a diverse taste when it comes to alcohol," she enlightens me. "But I'll admit, I've never had a… whatever Grand Cru before."

"Neither have I," I say, catching her nervous gaze. "But they only serve the best here. I'm sure you'll like it."

Her expression hardens and she lowers her eyes before she speaks. "Have you been here a lot?"

"No," I reply. "And it’s been a while."

She looks concerned, more than she should. Girls like her have a tendency to compare when there’s nothing to compare. I wish she could just let it go, but instead she opts for an uncomfortable question.

"Have you ever… hooked up with one of them here?" she probes. "One of the girls in black?"

She’s referring to the girls walking around in black lingerie, the so-called devils. Unlike the angels in pure white attire, they’re the ones who accompany clients upstairs to play in the actual velvet rooms.

I’m still contemplating a gentle way to respond when we’re interrupted by the waitress, balancing a silver tray with both our drinks. Lila bites her lip, coyly smiling at the girl as she thanks her while accepting the slim glass.

We raise our glasses in a subtle cheers before sipping on the soothing beverages. She tries to be cautious and appreciative but is unable to hide her thirst for wine. I don't blame her, but I won't let her have more than this one drink before we go upstairs.

Ifwe go upstairs.

"So?" she asks, looking at me from the side. "Have you?"

Lying isn’t in my nature, so I respond with a simple nod.

Disappointment spreads across her pretty face, unsurprisingly. But she doesn't look just hurt at my revelation. There's more to it, something that’s hard to put a finger on. Is it concern? Apprehension? What does she worry about?

"Is that how you know my sister?" she asks, catching me completely off guard.

"Why the fuck would you say that?" I blurt, sounding a lot angrier than I intended.

She looks up at me, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. "So… no?"

I shake my head violently. "Why the hell would I—"

But then it dawns on me.

That's how she knew about this place.

Her sister.

"Your sister, has she worked here?" I ask the obvious. "Before she met the young Mr. Graves."

Lila nods. "They met here," she says. "He was her client."

Fuck.

I can't fucking believe this.

How could I not know about this? Not even suspect it?

"You didn't know?" Lila probes, hope echoing from her words.

I shake my head. "I had no idea."

"Oh," she sighs. "That's a relief. I really thought you might… but then, how do you know my sister and her husband? Why were you at their wedding?"

---