Page 224 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
CHAPTER30
ISABELLE
Iyank a pair of super tight jeans over my thighs. “I can’t believe you convinced me to do this.”
Harlow’s head pops out of my walk-in wardrobe. “What is the good of best friends if they can’t convince you to get a little bitflirty?” She says ‘flirty’ like she’s trying to pry a hundred-dollar bill from the hand of an old geezer at a strip club.
I command my lungs to take their last full breath before fastening the button on my jeans. I really need to go for a run… or five. I’ve been binging on carbs the past two weeks, and my ass is suffering from my poor choices. The only exercise I’ve done is the bicep curl from the constant lifting of food to my mouth. I’m not eating because of stress. I’m eating out of boredom—and perhaps a broken heart.
Harlow convinced me to celebrate tonight because Regan finally got approval for an emergency court hearing to dispute the evidence in my case. Because of the busy Thanksgiving and Christmas season, it took two weeks to have her request approved. While waiting for approval, I’ve done nothing but lounge in her apartment, eat ice cream and chocolate, and play Xbox with Hugo while successfully hiding the wounds of a broken heart.
I miss Isaac every day, and it takes all my strength not to call him amid a terrifying nightmare. All I want is to hear his voice, so I know he’s safe, but then the hurt of his betrayal resurfaces, and my levelheadedness returns. I haven’t spoken to him since the night I left the hotel. I also haven’t shed a tear since that night because once I let them flow, I’ll never reel them back in.
I’ve overheard random conversations between Isaac and Hugo, though. They’re only brief. More Hugo updating Isaac on my situation than anything. I guess we don’t need to talk since everything was said at the hotel. I can still breathe without Isaac in my life, but I feel numb, empty, almost lifeless.
“Hey.” Harlow smacks me upside the head with a shimmery midriff shirt. “Get your head out of those clouds. No Isaac. No trial. Nothing but sweaty bodies and loud, booty-shaking music. They’re the only thoughts allowed in your head tonight.” She’s quoted the same saying since she called me earlier today convincing me that a night of dancing would get me out of the funk I’m in. “Now, put this on and get over here, so I can hide the bags your eyes are carrying.”
I place the shimmery black-sequined midriff shirt before planting my backside in the dining chair in front of the full-length mirror. I cringe when I catch my reflection. My hair is drenching wet and hanging loosely on my head. Since it’s soaked, it’s nearly as dark as the rings around my eyes. My face is pale, showing I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks, but the ghastliest aspect of my appearance is the heartbroken woman my face shouldn’t be parading.
I wonder how much makeup will be required to hide that?
“How is Cormack?”
Harlow dabs concealer under my eyes as her lips purse. “He’s okay. The record company is doing everything they can to assist Noah. Cormack is personally paying for the medical specialists working with him. It’s just a waiting game now.”
The lead singer in one of the bands Cormack’s label manages was in a horrific car accident the week we arrived back from the gala. He’s a young and extremely popular resident of Ravenshoe, but for some reason, the news of his accident has been kept under wraps. I don’t know why. Perhaps out of respect for his family?
“Is their song still number one?”
“Yep!” Harlow requests for me to close my eyes. “The remaining band members have more pressing matters on their minds right now, but once things settle down, I think they’ll be pleasantly surprised with how well their album is doing.”
My heart squeezes. I’m glad Isaac’s brother’s band is getting the recognition they deserve. I haven’t heard them perform live, but their song, “Surrender Me” is one I’ve listened to a lot the past two weeks.
They’re so talented, Cormack personally oversees their career. I wonder if they realize they have a billionaire negotiating their terms and conditions?
My eyes bulge as my mouth gapes. “Holy shit!” My glowing eyes shift to Harlow. “You’re in the wrong business!”
She bumps me with her hip. “Makeup, icing, it’s all the same thing. It helps cover up the little flaws on a scrumptiously delicious product.”
Little flaws. My God, she’s a genius. I look revamped. Happy. Hell, I look hot! The dark circles around my eyes have vanished, my lips are fire-engine red, and my face is glowing.
Squealing, I throw my arms around her tiny shoulders. “Thank you.” Her makeover has the first rays of sunshine peeking out of a dark, turmoiled cloud that’s been hovering over my head the past two weeks.
Pumping music booms out of the club we’re entering. It’s so loud, it rattles my chest as effectively as my heart. Fighting the urge to do a little jig on the spot, I shift my eyes to Harlow and Hugo. Both have huge smiles on their faces. Harlow is smiling because she’s excited about a night of dancing. Hugo’s grin is for an entirely different reason. He just spotted Cormack’s assistant, Peta, standing in the VIP section we’re strolling toward.
When Harlow told Cormack she wanted to take me out dancing, his approval came with one condition—he organized the night. Since he’s so flashy, we are the very exclusive guests at a highly overpriced VIP section of a dance club in Hopeton. Only the wealthiest and most respected guests convene here.
With the line to enter going all the way down the block and around the corner, I’m going to assume Isaac owns this club. It isn’t just its popularity leading me to my conclusion, it’s the fact Isaac is embedded in each of his nightclubs. Dark gray metals with mahogany wood features give off the ambiance of sex and sensuality, but it also makes my heart squeeze. It reminds me so much of Isaac.
“Ms. Murphy, Ms. Brahn, Hugo.” Peta’s tone is professional, yet kind, but when Harlow wraps her up in a friendly hug, she stiffens.
Peta was gorgeous the first time I saw her, but tonight she looks dazzling in a tight red spaghetti-strapped dress and black Milano pumps. Her hair is hanging loosely down her shoulders, framing her beautiful face, and her eyes have a fun sparkle to them.
A smile curls my lips when her cheeks heat from being subjected to Hugo’s glance. Hugo’s well-fitted trousers, buttoned-up shirt, and a dark jacket give him a casual look compared to the suits he wears at work, but with an edge of the dangerous bad-boy vibe girls go silly for.
“Mr. McGregor arranged for your drinks to be supplied to the booth—”
Harlow stops Peta mid-sentence. “Not tonight, Peta. You’re officially relieved of your duties.” When Peta’s eyes widen in fear, Harlow puts her worry to rest. “For tonight. God, I’d never fire you, Peta. I meant that you’re here as a guest of mine, not a staff member of Cormack’s.”
