Page 40 of A World Apart
Critically eying my image, I had to concede the win to Becka on this one. I looked kind of fire. I was wearing a black playsuit that flowed loosely around my mid-thighs, so it looked like it could be a skirt, but I had the confidence of not being able to accidentally flash anyone. It had butterfly sleeves that covered my arms to mid-bicep and a neckline that only went down to show a hint of cleavage. From the front it looked playful, yet modest. But when I turned around, it was a different story. The back was almost entirely open all the way down to my tailbone. There was a strap across my shoulders and that was about it. I didn’t have any jewellery on except for one simple silver bangle and my shoes were pretty, but nondescript black stilettos with a silver chain across my ankles.
I couldn’t do makeup for crap, so I’d stayed basic with some eyeliner and mascara, giving my eyes a smoky, but understated smoulder. I’d brushed some highlighter across my cheekbones and lightly applied a shimmery pink lip balm. I’d left mychestnut brown hair down, it was so long that unless I moved it to the side, my exposed back would be less… exposed.
“If you’re gonna leave him with any last images of you, let it be this one,” Becka smiled at me in the reflection, sneaking up on me.
“Holy hell!” The words burst out of me as I saw what she was wearing. “Have they always been that big?” I couldn’t take my eyes off her chest, and she laughed.
“The magic of a body-con wrap dress, babes,” she winked at me.
She looked stunning. She was wearing an emerald green wrap dress that hugged every contour of her body, and invented a couple new ones, by the looks of it. With her blonde hair ruffling around her shoulders in artfully created waves, she looked like a sexy forest nymph.
“There was no part of this evening that was going to be ‘casual’, was there?” I asked sceptically.
Becka laughed, “No, babes. Wait till you see what half the office is wearing. It’s ho season.”
I barked out a laugh that had Becka grinning at me.
“Come on, we better go. I’ll call an Uber.”
Half an hour later we pulled up outside Emporia and it was immediately evident from the outside that this was not a place you came to ‘casually’. An imposing stone façade lit up by artfully concealed lighting gave the impression of a fashion show, including the roll of red carpet extending from the massive front doors to the kerb.
I gave a low whistle as the Uber pulled away, leaving us standing there, looking up at the restaurant.
“How did Celine manage to get a last-minute booking here?” I asked, wonder in my tone.
“Pfft, she name-dropped, obviously.” Becka scoffed, although even I could see the look of admiration in her eyes. “From what she told me, they practically rolled over when they heard who she was booking for. Your boy has pull,” she said, with an approvingly nod of her head.
“Y’know,” I said conversationally, deciding to ignore the ‘your boy’ comment, “if we were in a film in the 80’s, this is the moment where we’d take one last drag of our cigarettes, before dropping them on the pavement and stamping them out.”
Becka looked at me, her nose scrunched. “You’re so weird.”
“But am Iwrong though?”
“Come on, Molly Ringwald,” Becka huffed and grabbed my arm to wind it with her own and together, we walked up the red carpet to the front doors.
There was no bouncer on the door, but there was a very pretty, professional looking woman standing at a maître d’ podium inside the foyer.
“Good evening,” she said in a pleasant tone, “may I take the name on your reservation, please?”
Becka gave Celine’s name and confirmed it was a VIP booking. The woman’s face immediately changed from pleasant disinterest to something resembling reverence.
“Of course,” she said, “please wait one moment.” She turned and flagged down a young man dressed uniformly in black suit trousers and a black shirt. “Jake will take you to the lounge where the rest of your party is gathering. I hope you have an enjoyable night.” She smiled widely at us as we followed the young server.
Becka and I tried not to gape as we were led through the restaurant, the dark aesthetic and discreet background club music confirming Becka had been right about the dress code. All the guests we saw were dressed in much the same way we were.
The server, Jake, led us all the way through the restaurant and then up a staircase to the second floor, which had a much more relaxed vibe. It was a similar palette of black, dark grey and silver accents, but the lighting was more wall sconce, instead of pointy chandelier, like it had been downstairs. The music was also more relaxed, less club, more Ibiza chillout. It was a vibe.
It was clear that our party had booked out the entirety of the upstairs. There were other tables laid out, but all were empty. Our party was spread out over four or five large circular tables in the centre of the large room. It looked like most of the building had been invited, although at a glance there were plenty of people there I didn’t know, so perhaps it wouldn’t be quite so obvious an intern had somehow snagged an invitation.
The server stopped a respectful distance away from the party and asked us if we’d like any drinks. We both ordered a glass of wine, and he nodded and disappeared back to wherever the wine was.
Becka and I lingered awkwardly, each of us not knowing where to slot in when, blessedly, Celine walked past and stopped when she saw us. She was clearly already a wine or two deep as she was far friendlier to me than normal.
“Guys! You look great, mwah!” She actually said the word as she air-kissed us in turn. I shared a look with Becka.
“Why are you just standing here? Come, sit down!” Celine waved her arm magnanimously and pulled us over to a table that still had a few empty seats. Becka and I sat down, and I was relieved to be seated next to a person from Becka’s team that I actually knew enough to make small talk with. Bonus points that Celine seemed either too drunk, or too merry to not remember I hadn’t been on the official guest list.
I was just rearranging my hair over my shoulders when I looked up across the table to see Jihoon. He was sitting at another table across the way from ours, several people in between us, but as the tables were round, I had a completely unobstructed view of him, although he hadn’t seen me yet.
