Page 57 of Lust

Quinn looks completely miserable. I thought her pallor was due to my letter, but now that I think about it, she was white as a ghost when she sat down. “It was supposed to be an innocent dance lesson. Remy was there.”

Juliette claps her hands together. “Oh please tell me they sandwiched you between them and you did some dirty dancing.”

I shoot Juliette a warning stare as Quinn lowers her head so quickly she bangs her forehead on the table. “I was thinking it was like Dirty Dancing at the time!” she sobs. Her voice is barely audible.

“I don’t really see a problem with this,” Juliette says, picking up her half eaten donut and cramming what’s left of it into her mouth.

I push Quinn back up into a sitting position as best I can from opposite her. She’s not crying, but her eyes are wet.

“Did Remy get upset? Was there a fight? What happened?” I pick up my coffee and take a sip.

“Remy left. He thought we were going to do some basic ballet steps and I guess he figured it was safe to leave us to it. But then this sexy Latin American music started up and me and Dade were dancing like our crotches were fused together with super glue.”

I almost spit out my coffee but manage to swallow it.

“And?” Juliette leans forward, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Did you like it?”

“Of course I liked it,” Quinn whimpers. “I almost came in the middle of the dance floor.”

“Holy crap, this is juicier than Love Island.” Juliette practically bounces in her seat. “What happened after?”

Quinn rests her head in her hand. “Dade gave me a look of pure horror and stormed off. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”

“Nothing.” I reply. “Dade is weird. Forget it happened. When we're at the ball, ditch Dade and dance with Remy, or better still, come as our date.” I gesture to Juliette.

Juliette leans back with a sly grin. “Actually,” she chimes in, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “I already have a date.”

Quinn's gaze darts over to Juliette, curiosity and surprise written across her features. “Who?”

Juliette responds with a grin, her lips slightly dusted with powdered sugar. With a fluid motion, she rises from her seat. “Quinn, babe. I’m so sorry that you had an orgasmic dance with a mega hot guy. Rowena, I’m sorry you got a letter. It’s fucked up. I have to go. There’s somewhere I need to be.”

She slides past Quinn and walks away toward the elevators.

“What's up with her?” Quinn asks, her brows furrowed in bewilderment.

I shrug. “I don’t know, but I noticed she didn’t answer your question. She’s been acting strange recently. I hardly see her anymore.”

“Maybe she’s with Orlin?” Quinn offers as though she can’t believe she’s saying it.

“You know, I thought that insane notion for a while too, but she can’t be. I mean it’s Orlin. She looks like she’s going to puke every time his name is mentioned. Unless it’s all a big ruse to throw us off the scent. He’s probably jacked under all those nasty sweater vests he wears.”

Quinn snorts and her features finally brighten up. “I’m sorry I hijacked your meeting about the letter with all my Dade crap. Who do you think is writing these?”

“I don’t know.” I lean forward and grab one of the donuts that Juliette left. “I was hoping you and Juliette might have a theory?”

Quinn ponders for a moment before suggesting, “Felix? He can’t stand either of us.”

Just hearing his name creates a reaction in my body. I tense up, but not before a frisson of something I don’t understand jolts me. “I don’t know.” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “Theoretically, I can see where you’re coming from. You got the guy shot, then received letters like this in Purgatory. I gave him a blow job that everyone knows about, then I punched him in the face, and now I’ve started getting them.” I take a bite out of the donut and put the rest down. It’s way too sickly. “I believe he’s petty enough to do it, but I honestly don’t see his endgame. This isn’t the way Felix speaks.”

I look down at the wording on the letter again and purse my lips. “If he’d written it, it would be full of homophobic slurs and disgusting name calling. He really doesn’t need to send me a letter telling me he’ll never love me when he’s made it clear with every interaction we’ve ever had that he hates my guts. I think it’s kind of a given by this point.”

I lean back, slipping the letter carefully back into its envelope before tucking it into my pocket. “You know what the worst part is?” I sigh heavily.

Quinn looks at me, her expression expectant. “What?”

“I wanted someone like Felix to love me. Okay, not a transphobic, bigoted asshole, but someone who people respect and look up to. I guess maybe I thought if I could be with someone like that, people would look up to and respect me.”

Quinn rests her hand on my wrist. “Rowena Bagshot. You had more fans in Purgatory than everyone else put together. I know you’re not stupid, but you can be blind at times. Sure, Felix has his groupies, but even Dade has those now. And here in Lust you have people really rooting for you, not because of fame or power or…”

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