Page 28 of Role Play
She leaps away but trips over the extra fabric of her gown. Instinctually I reach out to prevent her from toppling backward into the table behind her. All I manage to grab, though, is the front of her dress. This time, I hear the fabric tear.
“Shit!” I exclaim.What the fuck?Is this dress constructed of toilet paper?
Once she’s steady on her feet, I release her. She has to clench the V-neck of her dress together so she doesn’t risk exposing her tits. I unwittingly catch a hint of perfume—something sweet, like peaches and cream. “That was not on purpose. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you. It was a reflex.”
Her head is down, fresh tears replacing the ones she wiped away. “I’m not accusing you of anything. You were trying to keep me from falling.” She holds her palms up for a millisecond before clutching her dress again. “We’re good.”
Does she recognize me?Maybe I’m forgettable… She sure as hell is not.
“I’ll pay to replace it,” I awkwardly offer, my neck roasting from embarrassment.
“Don’t worry. It’s fine.” She sniffles, forcing a smile as she nods at me, then Celeste. “Have a nice evening.” Then, shewhisks away, presumably toward the ladies’ room, the damaged tulle trailing behind her.
Celeste smirks at me as I hold out my hand to help her out of her chair, finally. The satin of her dress gracefully cloaks her slim frame as she stands. “Wow, Forrest, that was…not smooth.”
“Thanks,” I mutter bitterly, my eyes still on cookie girl as she weaves through the ballroom, her hands still firmly clasped around her chest, disappearing among the crowd of gowns and tuxes.
“You looked shocked to see her. Someone you know?”
When cookie girl is finally out of sight, I tilt my head to the ceiling, noticing the dozens of crystal chandeliers overhead. “Sort of.”
“She’s very pretty. Her Marc Jacobs is a little out of date, but she wears it so well.”
“Until I ripped it,” I bellyache.
“It’s salvageable. Tulle can easily be replaced.”
Good grief, Celeste knows her industry. She’s like a bloodhound when it comes to designer brands. She could tell you what everyone in the room is wearing without looking at the tags.
“What’s her name?” Celeste asks, not bothering to hide her curiosity.
“I don’t even know. A couple days ago, I bumped into her at a coffee shop. I was trying to make a joke, but I came off like an ass. I apologized. That didn’t go great either.”
Celeste nods in agreement. “Based on the interaction I just witnessed, I fully believe you.”
“Ha-ha,” I deadpan. Holding out my hand to her, I ask, “Ready for that dance?”
She assesses me head to toe, giving an obvious once-over. “You know what? My feet hurt.” She pulls out a miniature sewing kit from her gold clutch and wiggles it between herfingers. “I always bring this for emergencies. I’m going to call my driver, how about you go do some damage control?”
I shake my head, ignoring the knot of uncertainty in my chest. “Don’t be silly. I came here with you. And Greg is supposed to see us leave together.”
“I’m tired of worrying about Greg for tonight. And plus”—she shoos me with a flick of her hand—“I’m bored of you now, cabana boy. Get out of here.” Celeste nods toward the corner of the room where cookie girl disappeared, her eyes dancing with encouragement.
“You sure? It’s not what you think… I just humiliated her and I want to make sure she’s okay.”
Celeste gives me a close-lipped smile, showing off her amusement. “You’re answering questions I didn’t ask, Forrest.” Her eyes gleam knowingly as she nods to the right again. “Go.”
Before I can second-guess myself, I peck her on the cheek, and then I’m off to find the woman who I should probably stop pursuing, because quite frankly…
She keeps throwing me off my game.
chapter 8
Sora
I’m no stranger to shitty birthdays, but this one takes the cake—and then smashes it into my face for good measure.
After ensuring the coast is clear, I scrutinize myself in the large bathroom mirror—smeared eyeliner creating shadowy wings beneath my lower lashes, torn dress exposing far more cleavage than I’d intended, and while this isn’t super consequential at the moment, I’m now realizing the lipstick shade I’m wearing clashes horribly with this ensemble. Magenta lips with a pale pink dress under black tulle? Who let me leave my apartment like this?
