Page 134 of The Reno
One week, and I could get back to Liam.
The following week, Willa and I took a short walk across our office to Elias’s. It was as buzzy as usual for a Thursday night. Apparently, nothing had changed in London but me. The cold air conditioning of the bar made me shiver, and the sound of the blonde woman’s laughter behind me was piercing. Even Elias’s had lost its shine.
Willa pushed us through the crowd towards two barstools with signs hooked on the metal bars. One saidEvil Witch, and the other,Old Hag. Elias had bought them as a joke one Halloween. “Something to keep your seats reserved, ladies,” he’d said with a too-white smile.
Usually, Willa and I argued over who got the old hag seat, buttoday, I slipped into it.
A strangled noise had me looking up to find Elias staring at me wide-eyed. Elias had olive skin and cropped dark hair. His shirts were unbuttoned far too low, showing off a muscular, hairless chest.
“What the fuck—” he said, a slight accent lingering from his upbringing in Greece til he was fifteen—“happened to you?”
I frowned, my eyes flickering between Willa and Elias, who shared knowing looks.
I raised my hands. “I’m fine! I don’t know what your problem is. Either of you.”
“You look terrible.” Elias grimaced. “Your skin is so pale. You have bags under your eyes. You look—” He clicked his tongue. “Dead.”
“Dead,” I repeated hysterically.
“Elias,” Willa chided. ”She doesn’t look dead.”
I raised a hand. “Thank you.”
“She looks dug up.” Willa took a sip of the champagne Elias placed in front of us. My mouth fell open as I turned to my so-called best friend.
I made a noise in my throat. “Pot, kettle, bitch.”
Willa pointedly looked away, and Elias gave an amused whistle as he turned, opened a bottle of prosecco, and artfully handled six flutes in one hand.
“Elias’s right,” Willa said after a moment. “We’re going through it.”
“I think you’ll find he said I look like shit, not you.”
“Trust me, under this make-up, I look like shit.”
I touched her knee. “Wills, let’s talk about it. It might make you feel better.”
Willa gave an acute shake of her head. “No. I can’t right now.” I deflated, and Willa turned to me. “I will when I’m ready, Kat. I promise.”
I squeezed her knee. “Good.”
Willa and I turned to watch Elias shake up a margarita. His biceps flexed, and Willa threw an olive in her mouth as she openly ogled him.
“Willa.” I smiled for the first time in weeks. “You are incorrigible.”
“He knows what he looks like. And I know he isn’t exactly batting for my team.”
I hummed and glanced behind us. Aidan sat in a booth on his own. His hair was floppier than usual, as if freshly shampooed. Our eyes met, and he looked down and pushed up his thick-framed glasses to inspect the menu.
“Aidan is sat over there.”
Willa stiffened but made a nonchalant hum. “He comes here every Thursday.”
“To see you?” I teased.
Willa huffed. “I seriously doubt it. We are not friends.”
“I don’t think he wants to be friends, Willa,” I said in a sing-song voice.
