Page 51 of A Beginner's Guide to Forever
“What did you think of the hockey game?” Hart asks.
I told him I’d never been to a game before. “I loved it. It was fast paced. A little violent. What’s not to love?”
He laughs, seeming to enjoy my description.
“Let’s do something!” Vaughn begs.
I glance casually at my phone. It’s late. It’s ten o’clock, and I’m ready to go back to my hotel room, take a hot shower, put on some pajamas, and climb into bed.
Instead, we go clubbing. Our age gap has never been more glaring than it is in this moment.
After making our way down Eighth Avenue, we arrive at Mission NYC, a nightclub with loud house music and low pulsing lights. We pass by the center of the dance floor, which is a sea of moving bodies. It’s just like I remember, but unlike when I was his age and went clubbingwith my friends, this crew is given the VIP treatment and taken to a velvet-roped-off area with plush seating and bottle service.
Hart stops to talk to someone he knows—a Middle Eastern man wearing a suit and a thick gold chain—and everyone else goes off to dance, except Monty and me, who settle in the chairs.
Monty hands me a drink, and we toast. The beat of the music is sultry and hypnotic, and the lighting is low.
“Hart said you’re in meetings most of the week.”
I nod. “Yes. Making pitches to potential large donors. It’s a new pastime of mine.” I smile. “Did you stay in the Hamptons until today?”
He nods. “We did, but the weather’s turning now. When are you heading back to Nairobi?”
It seems that Hart has filled him in on quite a few things about me, and I’m curious what Monty thinks of me—thecougarwho his friend has an inexplicable interest in. He’s probably just as confused as I am.
I tell him a bit more about Nairobi and then ask him some questions about the app he’s developing, impressed by his work ethic. He becomes animated, telling me that Hart has been helping him with some coding he’s been stuck on.
The truth is, his friends are nice, but I don’t have much in common with them. I envy them for still being youthful and carefree. On the cusp of adulthood but not quite all the way there.
I gaze out over the club and see Isaac dancing with two young women, girls, who are very eager for his attention, thrusting along to the music as he watches them with a hooded, stormy gaze.
Part of me wants to dance and drink and pretend I don’t know about things like hangovers or morning-after regrets. But that girl is long gone. Doubts about what I’m doing here, along with pangs of envy, swirl inside me.
Hart returns and takes my hand. “Care to dance?”
“Oh, what the hell.”
We head to the center of the packed dance floor, and I’m struck by a momentary flash of self-consciousness. Vaughn is in her element,dancing alone and completely content. Isaac bounces on the balls of his feet to the fast tempo, and the girls he’s dancing with sing along to the lyrics at top volume.
I obviously don’t fit in, but it’s easy to move along with Hart, who doesn’t so much dance as sway with me. I rock my hips to the music, moving against him. He watches me with a warm look in his eyes, like he can’t quite believe we’re here, can’t quite believe we’re doing this. That makes two of us.
I feel the eyes of one of the girls on me, her gaze filled with questions. She nudges her friend with her elbow, and then they’re both looking at me. Not at Hart. At me. Like I’m a complicated math equation they’re trying to solve. Or maybe they’re mentally calculating our age difference, not that I could blame them.
I turn to face Hart, who’s oblivious to the attention we’re receiving.
“I think I’m ready to go,” I have to all but shout into his ear because it’s so loud. “But you stay—have fun with your friends.”
He frowns and shakes his head. Taking my hand in his, he guides me to the front entrance and then into the vestibule, where the volume is at a much more reasonable level. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie. “I’m just ready to go.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Giving my head a shake, I press my hands to his shoulders. “You don’t have to. Stay if you want. I have early meetings tomorrow.” I do have a meeting with Joslyn, which I could easily reschedule, but I don’t tell him that. This isn’t my scene, and it’s okay if it’s his, but I’m past the age of doing things I don’t want to do just to make someone else feel more comfortable.
“I want to come with you,” he insists firmly. Taking my hand, we head out the door and onto the sidewalk. “Can I take you to your hotel?”
I nod. “Thanks.” Then I point back at the club. “What about—?”
