Page 3 of Vows in Sin
Dipping away from the men, I wait on the corner, my back resting against the brick wall. The only benefit of this ugly outfit is that it has pockets, and I slip my phone from one now.
She denied me earlier today when I asked, but it’s worth another shot.
I make one more pleading phone call to my childhood best friend. “Tabby, it’s me.”
“I know. I looked at the screen.” She laughs. “And even if I didn’t, you have your own ringtone on my phone. Remember?”
“Tina Charles, I Love to Love?” I ask hopefully.
I can hear her eyes roll as she says, “What else would it be?”
“It’s so good to have friends who respect my love of classic UK disco hits,” I say.
“Friend,” she corrects. “I’m the only one who doesn’t give you crap for your music choices or love of kid books.”
She’s right. When I put disco on while we get ready to go out, she sings into my curling iron as a microphone. And she got me a signed copy of a Roald Dahl book for my last birthday.
I watch clouds of gorgeous people drift along the sidewalk, towards the club. “And for that, I will be forever grateful.”
I NEED to get into this club.
“Ah…Tabby…” Guilt starts to creep in. Am I taking advantage of our friendship?
A young woman in a shimmering orange minidress takes my breath away. She trips down the sidewalk on her too-high heels, long dark curls bouncing as she goes. Turning over her shoulder, she beams a wide grin, animatedly talking to the pack of friends who follow behind her.
I stare at her face. “Oh my god.”
“Oh my god, what?” Tabby asks.
My heart ricochets against my ribcage, my breath leaving my lungs. With the girl’s lithe body, heart-shaped face, and her fairy-like movements, she’s what I imagine my sister would be like today.
If she’d lived.
“Oh my god, what?” Tabby asks again.
I open my mouth to answer Tabby, but no words come.
I’m transported back to that night in Rome. Standing on the balcony of the hotel’s rooftop bar after our meal, the cool night air caressing my skin. Dame’s arms around me. My tears were soaking through his shirt. The memory of my sister, bright and bold, a white shock of pain. And he held me.
He’s the only person who ever made my pain feel seen. If that even makes sense.
I brush a tear from my cheek, blinking away the memory. Now, watching the girl and her friends skipping the line to join a group of women at the front door, I swallow back the lump in my throat. Tabby’s one of my two best friends. She’ll have to understand.
I need to see him.
Tabitha’s worried voice brings me back to the present. “Hello? Seraphina! You there?”
“Sorry! Sorry!” How long had I spaced out for? “I think I saw a doppelganger for your ex, Blake. Remember him? The one that called you Legs?”
She groans. “Please never repeat his name or that nickname.”
“K. But you do have really nice legs.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, Legs.”
“Stop. It.”
