“Did you see Daniel DuPont is here?” a woman’s voice says.
“Yes. I didn’t know he was coming,” another woman adds.
“That man is delicious,” the first woman states.
“Is he alone?” the other woman asks.
“That man is always single. I did see him talking to some girl at the table, but she doesn’t look like his normal type so doubtful anything is happening there,” the first woman explains.
“Then we’re in with a chance.” The second woman giggles.
“I’ve heard he’s an animal in the sheets,” the first woman gossips.
“That man could do whatever he wanted to me.” The other woman laughs as I hear their voices trail away and the door to the bathroom slam.
Exiting the toilet, I walk over to the sink and start to wash my hands. Is it too early to go home?
No.
Do not let those women make you feel less than you are, they’re just jealous. Plus, I was really looking forward to the dessert. I give myself a shake and head back to the table.
Daniel stands again and pushes my seat in just as the dessert course arrives.
“Are you okay?” he asks, noticing my silence.
“I’m fine.” Annoyed that I’m letting those two women get under my skin.
Daniel’s face falls as he frowns at me but doesn’t push the subject anymore, and I continue to down my glasses of champagne.
After dessert, music starts playing, and couples get up to dance.
“I’m going to go,” I turn and tell Daniel as I try to get up from my chair, but my legs wobble from the champagne. He’s there to catch me and straighten me up. “Don’t touch me,” I hiss. He looks surprised at the venom behind my reaction.
I don’t look back at where Daniel is as I start to make my way through the ballroom. People have had more to drink, and I am jostled a little as I pass, and stumble as a chair gets pushed out into me. A hand grabs me before I have a chance to topple over and pulls me back, and I bounce off a hard chest. I pull my arm out of his grasp and storm off, I can feel his presence behind me. Why won’t he leave me alone?
“Rosie, wait,” he calls out when we are outside.
“No, I have to go home,” I say, waving my hand in the air.
“What’s going on with you?” he asks.
“Nothing. Tired. Got to go,” I say, but I don’t get very far because his hand wraps around my arm, and the next thing I know, he is dragging me off the red carpet and toward a dark corridor. It’s a private walkway to the gardens. I storm off down the dark path annoyed and drunk.
“Rosie, for fuck’s sake,” Daniel curses at me, and then there’s a slew of what I can only assume is French curses afterward until he grabs me again and pushes me up against the wall, and glares at me. “What has gotten into you tonight?”
“Nothing,” I say, folding my arms in front of me.
“Fucking bullshit. You’ve been acting weird ever since you got back from the bathroom.”
“Oh, after I had to listen to your fans talking about how much of an animal you are in bed,” I spit at him.
Daniel flinches in surprise at my words. “I don’t give a fuck about those women. I care about you.”
“Did you care about me when you kissed that blonde at your exhibition?”
Shit.
I shouldn’t have said all that.