“Sure.” Emma grinned from ear to ear. “Come on. Let’s get some drinks.”
The two made their way through the crowds of people to get to the bar.
“There’s a spot,” Jane shouted as she weaved through the people waiting to order their drinks. There was one empty spot with just enough room for Jane to sneak in and order.
“Four Coronas,” she called to the bartender. He looked over to her as she smiled and batted her eyelashes. He shook his head laughing and turned to the cooler.
Emma tugged on Jane’s shirt sleeve. “Hey, they’ll be pissed that you ordered beer. This is supposed to be a fancy cocktail night.”
“Whatevs,” Jane said, shrugging. “I wasn’t going to get a bunch of different drinks. This is easier.”
Emma laughed. Denise and Charla hated beer, but she guessed that they would drink it rather than try to get their own drinks.
“Oh, and if they don’t want it, more for us!” Jane flashed a smile at Emma as the bartender returned with four icy Coronas and a slip of paper. Emma watched as Jane opened the piece of paper and read it. The bartender leaned in and said something to Jane. Jane said something back and then turned around, grinning.
“We’re wanted in VIP,” she said excitedly, handing Emma two of the beers.
“What do you mean, we’re wanted in VIP?” Emma couldn’t decode her friend’s words.
“The bartender told us to go there. This note will get us in.” Jane did a little happy dance and fluttered the note in Emma’s face. “We’ve got the golden ticket and... the beers were free, yo,” Jane sang.
Emma laughed as they pushed through the crowd, making their way back to Denise and Charla.
As they approached, Charla gave Emma a puppy dog pout, sticking her lip out like a petulant child. Emma smiled and gave her a nod and Charla broke into a smile, knowing she was forgiven. No words needed to be exchanged.
“Ew, beer,” Charla called out, scrunching her face up. Jana turned to Emma and rolled her eyes. She turned back to Denise and Charla. “Look at this, ladies.” She held the note in front of Charla as Denise craned to see it.
“For real?” Denise asked, looking at Emma to verify the truth.
“Yes, it’s real.” Jane let loose a squeal.
“Sweet!” Charla called. “Let’s go!” Emma and Jane handed the two girls their drinks as they stood to make their way to the VIP section.
“Hey, maybe someone will buy me a decent drink up there.” Charla fake gagged as she took a tiny sip of the beer.
“I’ll take it back if you don’t want it.” Jane threatened.
Charla hugged the bottle close to her body and rocking it like a baby. “I kid, I kid, leave me alone.” Charla turned and pushed her way through the crowd.
“Hey, Jane,” Emma called, putting her hand on Jane’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Jane called, slowing a little and looking back at Emma.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.” Emma chewed at her lip.
“What do you mean?” Jane asked, confused, still pushing her way through the crowd.
“Well, I don’t want them to think that I’m up there looking at—at men.” People pushed in on all sides of them, their sticky hot skin pressing on Emma’s. She flinched at every touch.
“Emma, don’t be silly. They will not think that. It’s not like they know you. And if you get too uncomfortable, we can leave.”
“I don’t know,” Emma said doubtfully.
Jane turned back. “Please, Emma. Do it for me, your unattached, desperately single, best friend.” Jane closed both hands around her beer as though in prayer.
Emma had to laugh, “Well, when you put it that way, how could I say no?”
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!” Jane linked arms as they made their way across the dance floor and up the stairs to VIP.
Chapter 5 VIP
VIP was an entirely different world. The men weren’t as sweaty; the women weren’t as trashy, and Emma guessed that if she knew anything about labels and fashion, that these people would only wear the finest.
She scanned the intimate tables and noticed that while the women looked barely twenty-one years old; the men looked at least her age, some much older. Then Emma’s eyes fell on a table that was the table to be at. There were a few men sitting around the booth and everyone else seemed to spin in orbit around that booth, especially the young ladies.
“Let’s go take a peek and see who’s over there,” Jane said, trying to peer over the heads of the people gathered around.
“I’m not going over there!” Emma snapped back at Jane. “I feel silly enough as it is.”
“Ugh, fine.” Jane stepped over to a young lady who was sipping a martini. “Excuse me.” The young lady turned and her drink sloshed down her wrist and on her short, revealing dress.
“Hi,” the girl shouted excitedly.
“Oh,” Jane said, surprised. She looked back and raised her eyebrows at Emma whispering, “friendly.” Emma resisted the urge to laugh. “Hi,” Jane said back, matching the girl’s enthusiasm. “Hey, do you know who is at the back booth?”
“OMG!” the girl shouted, grabbing Jane’s wrist. “It’s only Weston Morley, the hottest guy EVER!”
“Oh, no way!” Jane gave the girl an animated look and turned and gave Emma another crooked look.
Even Emma knew who Weston Morley was. They featured him in all the magazines as the most sought-after bachelor and the best catch. In part, it was because he was a scientist and inventor, which made him wealthy, but he was also fairly young, only thirty. The other intriguing aspect about him was that the tabloids could get no dirt on him. Though he was out on the town a lot, there were never any stories of his conquests, and though he was spotted with a revolving door of women, they remained loyal to him and spilled nothing.
This made him a saint in the bachelor world, but it also caused great speculation among the gossip rags. They were always trying to out him as gay. Anytime there was a picture of him with another man, possibly a friend, the magazines immediately linked the two as lovers.
Weston only commented once on his personal life, telling the tabloids that he was very private, but also very entertained at the speculation. It was as though the man really didn’t care what people thought of him. Emma admired that.
Now, Emma tried to crane her neck to glimpse him. In the magazines, he looked gorgeous, the kind of gorgeous that you couldn’t photo shop. She moved again, but she couldn’t see past the crowd of people surrounding his table.
“Let’s get closer,” Jane said, grabbing Emma by the elbow and leaving her martini dribbling new best friend behind. “I’ll die if we came this close to Weston Morley and didn’t get a peek of him.”
Emma looked back at Charla and Denise, who were talking to a group of men by the door. “Okay, why not?” Emma shrugged. “It’s not like I will ever see these people again.”
Jane artfully weaved her way through the crowd and when they were two booths away, Emma halted her. “Whoa, close enough. We don’t want to gape at him like the rest of the girls.”
“Oh, right,” Jane nervously giggled. The two craned their necks around the crowd. Emma looked at the group around the table. As she watched, she noticed it didn’t look like the people standing around the booth were actually talking to the people seated there. It was like they were a moving, talking wall. Emma got a look on the other side of the wall.
There were three men seated at the table. One man, who was rustically handsome, had a full head of shiny silver hair. Next to the Silver Fox was a younger man whose spiked hair held enough gel to keep the 80s satisfied.
Finally, Emma’s eyes found him, Weston Morley the III. He was more handsome in person, if that was even possible.
His hair was almost shaved except for the finely trimmed, dark bristles that Emma had always noticed on models. He was wearing a crisp, button-down shirt with a well-tailored jacket that p
layed up his perfect physique.
Emma’s eyes traveled across his chiseled chin and last, they rested on his intense gaze. That, in Emma’s opinion, had always been the feature that stood out the most. As Emma stared at him, he continued a deep conversation with the Fox. Then Emma noticed the Fox nudge Weston Morley. That was when she realized that the Fox was looking at her.
Emma turned and looked behind her. Not seeing anyone, she turned back. She met Weston Morley’s strong gaze. It froze Emma. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t. Then, his mouth twisted in a smile and Emma felt her face flush and her stomach lurch.
Emma looked away, surprised by the way her body reacted. Her eyes turned back to Weston, who was saying something to his friends, but maintained his gaze in her direction. He patted his friend on the forearm and slid out of the booth.
Emma grabbed Jane’s arm and tried pulling her friend back from where they’d come. “Come on Jane, let’s go,” Emma said hurriedly.
“Wait! I didn’t get a look!” Jane bobbed and weaved until she glimpsed Morley. “Hey, it looks like he’s coming this way.” She turned eagerly to Emma. “Maybe he’ll walk by us.”
“Yeah, he’ll probably kick us out,” Emma tightened her grip on Jane’s arm and tried to pull her friend toward the door.
“Are you crazy?” Jane asked, fighting Emma’s pull. Emma dragged her friend halfway to the door when Jane’s arm went slack. Emma closed her eyes tightly.
“Hello.” A deep silken voice carried across the crowd. Emma noticed the room went quiet. She couldn’t help but cringe.
“Uh, uh.” Emma’s normally chatter-mouthed friend struggled for words. Emma slowly turned to face her friend. Just on the other side of Jane stood the infamous Weston Morley.
“Hello,” Weston said to Emma, dazzling her with a smile. “I’m Weston Morley,” he reached out his hand and Jane grabbed it tightly.
“We know,” she gushed. Emma felt another cringe coming, but she held this one back. Jane continued to squeeze his hand, which mortified Emma, but Weston’s long lashes fluttered as he continued to grin. Up close, his caramel skin glowed like a spotlight followed him around. Emma noticed a hint of stubble on his jaw.
“Oh.” Jane’s eyebrows shot up as she looked down and realized Weston’s hand was still locked in hers. She set him free, and he extended his hand to Emma.
“I’m Emma.” Emma smiled at him. “And this is my friend, Jane.”
“Nice to meet you, Emma and Jane.” He flashed another brilliant grin. “I was wondering if you both would like to join us at our booth.” He motioned over his shoulder.
“I’m married!” Emma blurted out, feeling the heat rising in her neck again. Jane elbowed her in the ribs. Weston chuckled, but his face visibly fell.
“I forgive you, but I’d like you to join me nonetheless. No funny business.” He held up his hands as if to show that he wasn’t armed or dangerous.
“Um, I probably shouldn’t,” Emma said apologetically. Jane gave her a look of pure death, but Emma didn’t feel like embarrassing herself any more than she already had.
Weston closed the gap between them and leaned down so Emma could hear him. His voice was gravely yet smooth. It sent a shiver down Emma’s spine, and she could smell a soapy clean aftershave. “I’m sorry to hear that.” His voice hummed in her ear. “The reason I asked Chuck to invite you up here is that you were the only girl I’ve seen in ages that doesn’t look like you’re on a mission. But I suppose that the married thing explains that. Really, I just wanted to talk to some normal people. Gus,” he motioned towards the Fox, “and Cameron are great, but they are my employees, so I feel like I’m paying them to hang out with me.” He smiled again, stepping back. “I mean, I guess I am.” Jane let out an awkward guffaw that made Emma jump. Emma gave her friend an odd look.
“I don’t know,” Emma said. Weston seemed like a sincere guy, but it felt wrong.
“I promise that I will be on my best behavior.” He grinned. “And, we are well supervised.” He motioned to the hoards milling around his booth. Emma bit her lip. She looked at Jane, who, at the moment, looked like a puppy waiting for Emma to throw the stick.
“Okay, I guess we could for a little.” Emma smiled at Jane, who grabbed Emma’s hand out of happiness. Weston’s face also broke into a wide grin as he turned around and led them to his booth.
“Oh,” he stopped short, turning around, “would you two like some drinks?”
“We’re goo— “Emma had started to say, but Jane grabbed Emma’s Corona and deposited it on the nearest table.
“We’ll have whatever you’re having,” Jane yelled over the chatter that had erupted again. Emma felt like everyone was watching. She turned back towards the door as Charla and Denise stared open-mouthed. Emma smiled and gave them a wave. Jane, being the less subtle of the two, put her thumbs to her temples and waggled her fingers at her friends. Emma swatted her hands down.
As they slid into the booth, drinks materialized in front of them. Emma hadn’t even seen Weston order anything.
“So, Jane,” Weston said when they were all settled, “what do you do for a living?”
“Oh.” Jane beamed brightly. “I own a boutique.”
“Really?” Weston asked, sounding interested. “What do you sell there?”
“I sell clothing, pieces by small, unknown designers. It’s fun to be the first one to see what they can create.”
“Do you have a large client base?” He tilted his head, studying Jane.
“I have my regulars that stop in when the new pieces come in, and I have a few people who happen in on the place. I also make my own jewelry...” Jane continued chattering away about her business that she loved so much. The word “boutique” made it sound like a tiny shop when, really, Jane was quite successful. The best part about the whole deal was that Jane loved her work. Emma always felt a twinge of jealousy when she heard Jane discuss her shop with such passion and pride. It reminded Emma that something was missing in her own life.
“Emma’s a scientist too!” Jane squealed. Emma blushed when she realized that the conversation had turned toward her.
“I would hardly call myself a scientist, Jane,” Emma said, embarrassed.
“Don’t listen to her. Emma was at the top of her class at Berkeley.”
“That was ages ago,” Emma cut in, swatting Jane’s words away. “I have done nothing scientific in years, not even basic calculus.”
“So why did you stop?” Weston leaned in. His eyes were intense, and he had lost his grin.
“You know, sometimes plans change. You settle into life, family becomes more important, and you put your career on the back burner.” The music changed to something slow. Emma felt the room closing in as the words poured out of her mouth. It was the same line she gave everyone, but she felt discomfort when repeating the line to Weston. She knew he could see through it.
“You say that like you’d like to move it to the front. You know, I have plenty of room for a top-notch scientist on my team, if you’re looking for a place to start again.” He folded his hands together.
Emma blushed again, “I really can’t. My husband is busy enough for both of us.” Emma wanted the conversation to be over.
“Emma’s husband is also a brilliant scientist,” Jane finished.
“What’s his name? Have I heard of him?” Weston directed his attention towards Jane.
“Trevor Stevens. He’s won many awards.” Weston turned back towards Emma, looking genuinely amazed.
“Of course, I know who Dr. Stevens is. He’s world renowned for his work in nanotech. He basically invented the modern nano rocket. Impressive. I’d be curious to hear what his current application for the nanite is.” Weston’s eyebrow lifted, studying Emma’s face.
“Yeah,” Emma looked down with uncertainty. “There’s only room for one crazy scientist in the family.” She smiled shyly up at Weston only to catch him gazing at her.
“That’s not true,” he replied, hi
s eyes never leaving hers. And it felt like he wasn’t talking about Trevor.
“I have to pee!” Jane shouted. Emma’s ability to cringe was all worn out, and all she could do was laugh and shake her head.
“I’ll go with you,” Emma hissed. Weston turned to talk to the Silver Fox.
“No Emma, I really have to pee.” Jane looked down at her friend.
“I assumed that much,” Emma said smiling and moving to leave the booth. Jane reached down to hold her friend in place.
“Well, you can’t go with me,” Jane snapped back. “You have to hold these spots so no skanks take them.”
“I’m not sitting here alone!” Emma whispered through her clenched jaw, looking to see if anyone heard their conversation. Weston was still talking to the Silver Fox.
“Emma. Yes, you are. Otherwise, I will never give you free clothes again!” While Jane’s words were threatening, her eyes pleaded with Emma’s.
“Like I care! Anyway, what about a little loyalty? Aren’t I more important to you than these people?” Emma’s mouth was a thin line as she nodded over her shoulder.
“No!” Jane shot back. “I mean, please Emma. This is a once and a lifetime opportunity.” Jane started fidgeting like a child. “Say yes or I’ll be forced to go in my pants.”
“Ugh! You are a crazy person! I don’t know why I hang out with you.” Jane jumped up and planted a sloppy kiss on Emma’s forehead.
“Because I bring excitement to your life. Thank you, Emma.” Emma watched as Jane shimmied out from behind the booth and disappeared in the crowd. She directed her eyes towards her fingernails, simultaneously examining them and willing Jane to hurry back.
“So,” Weston’s deep voice poured honey into Emma’s ear, “Are you sure you don’t want to join my team?” Emma looked doubtful. “Okay, it sounds tacky,” he smiled, “but honestly, I’m not asking just because you’re beautiful.” Emma felt her face heat up. “It’s just that—the look on your face made me believe that you weren’t so happy to be done with science.”
Emma again looked doubtful.
Mrs. Invisible Page 3