Page 101 of Fairy Tale Lies
“I guarantee it.” Susan’s gaze slid to Cindy’s, and she winked. “The best way to banish the blues is with strong drinks, loud music, and a hot man.”
Cindy plopped on Greta’s other side and giggled. The exchange gave Greta pause. She let it go, focusing on the conversation.
“Fine.” She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger, anticipating alongnight. “Sign me up for your twisted fairy tale, Cindyrella.”
Greta smiled at her best friend. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
Susan rubbed her hands together like an evil witch. “Definitely.”
The club wasn’t far from Greta’s place, and they walked to it. Stepping inside, she blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her eyes to the nightclub’s dim interior, and almost ran into Susan.
She’d stopped next to a tall bar table with four guys standing around it, her focus falling on a lean man with neatly trimmed blond hair. “Professor Whiteshawl, what are you doing here? Greta, Cindy, this is my science instructor.”
The two women waved, and Greta noted absently he was good-looking in a conventional sort of way. He was maybe ten years older than her and handsome in his pressed trousers and green polo. He was the kind of man she would have been interested in before Jacob.
“Please call me Thomas,” he said with a warm smile before pointing to the other three men. “These are my friends, Robert and Harrison. The guy on the end is my cousin Cade. We’re celebrating his recent promotion. What brings you ladies here?”
Susan gave a wicked smile. “We’re celebrating my friend’s promotion to singlehood.”
The men eyed Greta with interest, and she wanted to sink into the floor. She glared at her friend.
Susan widened her eyes, trying to appear innocent. Then she winked. The woman was incorrigible.
“Anyway, nice seeing you, Thomas.” She grinned, sliding her arm through Greta and Cindy’s, ready to move on.
“You too, Susan. Though remember, back in class I’m Professor Whiteshawl.” When they turned to leave, he placed a light hand on Greta’s wrist. He leaned closer, a slightly embarrassed smile on his lips. “I know this is forward. Would you like to dance?”
She took in the crowd of gyrating bodies, and her first instinct was to decline. Though, how would she ever get over Jacob if she never even tried?
“Sure, that’d be nice.” She caught Susan and Cindy’s surprise and also a flash of concern. They should be happy she was making an effort.
Whatever.
Thomas grinned and took her hand. They scooted around tightly packed tables and cut through a section of low-slung black leather couches, finally reaching the massive and crowded dance floor. Bodies twisted and gyrated around them, and music pulsed through her. She loved it.
Before long, Greta relaxed and was even glad Cindy and Susan had forced her to go out. They were right; she needed this. It helped Thomas was a good dancer and not too handsy. There was no real spark with him, and maybe that was better. Being with Jacob had been all-consuming. Maybe being with someone less intense was safer for her heart and sanity.
Thomas leaned in, inches from her face. “Want to take a break? Let me buy you a drink.”
She stifled the urge to step back. There was nothing scary or predatory in his kind brown eyes. The problem was that he wasn’t Jacob. The only man she wanted close.
She was pitiful.
Taking Thomas’s hand, she smiled and nodded. Maybe if she pretended, sooner or later she might feel something.
The place was packed, and they had to press, push, and jostle their way through the crowd toward the bar. At one point, they were knocked apart, and she lost sight of him in the crush of bodies.
Cindy was dancing with a tall auburn-haired man, and catching Greta’s gaze she smiled, her gaze flickering past her as if searching for someone. Greta circled around, not recognizing anyone. Shrugging, she turned back, and, from the corner of her eye, she spotted Thomas a couple of yards off to her left. He’d escaped the throng of dancing people and was waiting for her by the bar.
She made it to the edge of the dance floor and sighed in relief. Then some inconsiderate jerk slammed into her, and she catapulted forward into a man’s broad back. He whipped around and steadied her before she fell on her butt.
Her body was back on solid ground, but everything within her shifted as she stared into a pair of familiar stormy blue eyes.
Chapter Forty-Two
Jacob’s dead heart sputtered to life when he registered who was in his arms. Two beats later, Greta was gone, the crowd swallowing her, leaving him to wonder if she was an illusion he’d dreamed in his desperation to see her again.
No. Apparitions don’t feel and smell like heaven.
