Page 62 of We Used To Be Magic

Nothing comes, though.

Imogene and Sasha are already chatting about something else, totally oblivious. So – I go. I follow him through the room, towards the kitchen, desperately casting my eyes around in thehopes of locking eyes with a stranger. The kitchen is an open space, at least – we’re not alone. He won’t do anything.

‘Sasha’s great, right?’ Julian says then, placing two heavy-bottomed glasses on the countertop. ‘She’s got a lot of pull in this industry.’

‘She seems really cool,’ I say, furtively eyeing the distance between us – I’m standing about as far away as I can without it looking conspicuous, though if he’s noticed he doesn’t seem bothered by it.

‘She is.’ He nods, picking up an oblong-shaped decanter. ‘And she has a real eye for talent. Something we have in common.’

He’s pouring two measures of what I assume is whisky, pushing one towards me. I don’t want it, but I pick it up anyway and take a sip, freeing myself from the obligation of a reply. It tastes awful and I swallow quickly – he sees me wince and laughs.

‘Not a bourbon drinker, then.’

‘Not a drinker at all,’ I reply pointedly. I can’t believe that he doesn’t already know my age, but it won’t hurt to remind him. He just nods again, picking up his own glass and swirling the contents in the palm of his hand.

‘Your hair really does look great,’ he says then, smiling. ‘The blonde.’

‘Yeah, uh – it’s a big change,’ I reply, discomfited. His whole body is turned towards me, now, and I’m focusing my line of sight on his left eyebrow so I don’t have to meet his gaze.

‘Uh-huh. It was my idea, you know.’

‘… What was?’

‘The blonde,’ he says, setting down his glass. ‘You were too “girl next door” before, so I suggested it to Imogene.’

I feel heat rush to my face like I’ve been slapped. He’s still smiling – grinning, really – and I want so badly for him to stop.

‘Right,’ I manage. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘You’re welcome. And I agree with Sasha, by the way. You look cute in this dress.’

And before I can point out that I didn’t thank him, or that that’s not what Sasha said, he’s reached out to touch it. I stiffen, feeling every bit as trapped as I did in his studio as he moves closer and gathers the hem in his hand. Then he slips his hand beneath the fabric, splaying his fingers across my thigh – I stiffen, revulsed.

‘There’s people,’ I hear myself whisper.

‘I know,’ he murmurs back, voice low and conspiratorial. ‘Anyone could see.’

Something snaps, then – I jerk backwards but he moves too, gripping me now – I’m dimly aware that there’s pain but I can’t feel it, not really. Just the pressure, the insistence of his grasp. Fingers in flesh.

‘Please let go,’ I choke out, expecting to see his smile disappear. But if anything, it softens. It’s as though I’ve just said something very sweet.

‘Only because you asked so nicely,’ he replies, and his hand goes slack. White spots appear in front of my eyes, and I realise then that I haven’t breathed since he touched me.

‘Finish your drink,’ he says. ‘Your friends are probably missing you.’

My hands are shaking as I raise the glass to my lips again. I barely taste it this time, and he watches as I swallow.

‘Good girl,’ he says, then turns towards the fridge. I’m breathing hard, vision clearing, but when I look around, I see that no one is looking back. No one is looking. No one saw. Julian takes two cans from the fridge, shutting it with a snap and flashing me one last smile.

‘Enjoy your night, yeah?’ he says pleasantly, and then he’s gone but the impression remains, the sear of his handprint against my skin. I’m still holding the glass, I realise, and setit down with a shaking hand, wondering too late what would happen if I started to scream.

If I’d ever be able to stop.

EZRA

‘THIS ISWHAT BEINGMARRIED TOA POLITICIANMUST FEELLIKE.’

‘Gross.’

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