Fool's Gold (Contemporary Romance) (14 page)

M
USIC
 floated the through the club. A girl with a double bass and a voice like warm honey was on stage. Kelsey and Lakshmi were holding down a table in the back of the club, leaving Beta and Vidya at the bar to fetch drinks. Beta was sticking to soda, but Vidya had three martinis arrayed in front of her.

“Could you grab one of these?” She asked, scooping the other two.

Beta grabbed a glass. “I didn’t know you were that much of a drinker.”

“They’re not all for me.”

They made their way back to the table, and Beta only spilled the martini once. Even late, the club was full of bodies.

Beta kept an eye out for Victoria. The Blue Note was definitely her kind of place. He considered how he’d react if he ran into her, then decided that he didn’t care. He’d tried to be there for he. God knew he’d tried. And she hadn’t appreciated him, not once she was out of the hospital. So be it.

Kelsey was missing when they stopped at the table and took their seats, but a few minutes later she appeared out of the crowd. A tall, swole looking guy followed her, his shirt tight against his obviously steroid enhanced chest.

“Thanks, babe.” Kelsey accepted the glass Vidya pushed her direction, then reached out to touch the guy’s hand. “Jack and I are going to go dance.” She leaned in, whispering to Vidya, though Beta could still hear it, “If you don’t see me later, don’t worry. I think I found tonight’s entertainment.”

Vidya flashed a smile and let the other girl leave. Lakshmi scooted closer, the better to chat. “I hate it when she does that.”

“Does what?” Beta asked.

“Just picks up a guy and abandons us,” Lakshmi took a sip of her drink. “It happens, like, twice a month.”

Beta wasn’t sure if any of his friends had ever been scooped up by a girl at a club like that. He certainly hadn’t, and after his experience with Zoe, he was pretty sure he didn’t want to be. Maybe he’d have to ask Jerome just how he’d found Charity.

“So Ben, do you go out much?” Vidya edged her way into Beta’s field of vision.

“Not really. I was out with some friend of Sol’s.”

Vidya thrust a shoulder forward and cocked an eyebrow. It sent a tingle through Beta. When she did that, it was
way
sexier than when Sol did it. “Oh, really?”

“She was out of control. Not my type.”

“What’s your type? String? Boolean?”

Beta grinned. Any girl that would make a programming joke at a jazz club couldn’t be all bad. “BigInt.”

Vidya snorted, nearly choking on her drink. Lakshmi just looked confused. “I don’t get it.”

“If I explain it, it ruins it.” Vidya winked at her. “Nerd humor.” She looked to Beta. “Lakshmi is a med student. Computers are lost on her.”

“Sorry, but I only laugh at funny jokes.” Lakshmi handed Vidya an empty glass. “I’m going to run to the little girls’ room. You two be good.” She disappeared into the crowd, dark hair waving behind her.

“Did I run her off somehow?” Beta wasn’t sure how he could have, but it would be just his luck.

“I don’t think so.” Vidya scooted closer, almost to the point that they were touching. They chatted about work and about how he was liking New York. It seemed like everyone wanted to know his opinion about the city.

The band switched from smooth jazz to something with a harder edge, and Beta found himself tapping along with it. Lakshmi came back a while later, and Beta was surprised to see that it had been nearly an hour.

“Sorry kids, the line was hellacious,” Lakshmi shrugged. “I need to head out pretty soon.”

Vidya touched Beta’s shoulder. “We need to go. I assume I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

Beta walked with them to the front of the club. They weren’t quite to the front door when Beta saw Trent.

Victoria stepped out from behind him.

Beta’s heart stopped. Vidya was so close their hands were brushing. A pang of guilt hit him, then passed. What did he have to feel guilty about?

Victoria was arguing with Trent, and then she looked his way. Her eyes settled on him, taking a moment to recognize him. She started to smile. And then she saw Vidya.

Her expression shattered like someone dropped a wineglass, all traces of mirth turning to despair in an instant.

Beta didn’t know what to do, and then the moment was past. He emerged onto the sidewalk with Vidya and walked with her and Lakshmi to the train station.

“You ladies have a good evening,” he said.

“We already did.” Vidya smiled. “I’m glad we ran into each other, Ben.”

Beta smiled back. “Me, too.”

Beta practically floated back to the apartment. Not even the quick encounter with Victoria was enough to dampen his spirits. Vidya was smart, and funny and... attractive. That definitely didn’t hurt.

V
ICTORIA
 didn’t want to be at Trent’s company Christmas party. The doctor at Mt. Sinai sent her home with instructions to rest and stay off her feet. That was over a week ago. Instead, she’d gone to work and then out on the town with Trent. And now she was here, in a ballroom full of drunk investment bankers, stock brokers and their silicone laden trophy wives. She felt like an ugly duckling that had wandered into Swan Lake.

Victoria clutched at her champagne flute and looked for Trent. Finding a guy in a gray suit wasn’t going to be easy, not in a room full of bankers. Not like she was uniquely dressed, either, if he were looking for her. Half the women in the room--she’d say the younger half, but that wasn’t exactly true--were wearing similar black pencil dresses.

Another survey of the area didn’t turn him up. He had wandered off fifteen minutes ago, leaving her chatting with one of his female coworkers. The coworker was still there, her teeth as sparkly as her diamonds.

“And then that horrible shrew of a woman Monica just cut right in front of me and dove into the back of the limo. As if I could lower myself to run in heels. The nerve!” She smiled at Victoria, as if she expected agreement. When Victoria didn’t respond, she kept going, “And then I was late to the reception in Westchester. I mean, really, who gets married on the day after Thanksgiving? You’re supposed to nurse a hangover and then go up to Broadway, not drive halfway across the state to some stupid reception.” She sighed.

Victoria realized that her champagne flute was empty, and flagged down a passing waiter.

“Another drink, ma’am?” He took the empty glass and reached for a full one.

“I’m good, thank--“

Monica snatched a glass from the edge of his platter, unbalancing it. The waiter snatched at the glass, but it only made things worse. The whole thing fell, shattering and spraying them all with glass and champagne. The platter clanked on the marble floor and rolled a dozen feet away. Monica shrieked.

“You clumsy oaf.” She cocked a hand back, as if she were going to slap the poor waiter.

“I’m so sorry, ladies.” He dropped to his knees to start sweeping the sodden mess with his towel. And to dodge Monica.

Monica huffed and stalked away, muttering about him ruining her dress. She made it about five feet, then slipped and fell smack on her ass. She was lucky not to land in any of the broken glass. With another curse, she rose and rushed off, leaving Victoria and the waiter standing alone in a wide circle of staring people.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Victoria stayed where she was, afraid to walk on the slick floor.

“I know.” He shrugged, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

Victoria felt far closer to him than to Monica. She was a yesterday or a tomorrow away from being in his shoes and cleaning the floors. Complaining about weddings and limos was an alien concept--she’d love to be taken to someone else’s wedding in a limo. In her world that was something reserved for the wedding party, not the guests.

More of the wait staff came and cleaned up the mess. Victoria made her way toward the band in the far corner of the hall. Trent was still nowhere to be found.

Her mind wandered back to the Blue Note and to seeing Beta practically holding hands with that Indian girl. There was no reason for jealousy, but Victoria still felt a pang. The idea that Beta wouldn’t always be pining after her was strange, not something she’d ever consciously considered. Somehow, she’d just taken for granted that he’d always be there.

She took a deep breath, clearing her mind. Dealing with trouble from one man at a time was hard enough. No sense in getting worked up about another.

The band was a jazz quartet: singer, pianist, saxophonist and cellist. The cellist had a trumpet standing in front of him, too. Victoria eased her way through the crowd and stopped near a garland covered pillar. The singer turned her way and Victoria recognized Roxanne from the Harlem audition. She swayed before the microphone, green sequins casting an emerald glow around her. It made her look like a leprechaun.

Victoria waited for the current song to end, and when the band didn’t immediately start another, she made her way forward and waved.

“Victoria!” Roxanne beamed at her. “I had no idea you were in finance.”

“I’m not. My boyfriend is.”

“Ah. Well, how have you been? You find any singing work yet?”

“Nothing yet. Still waiting tables.”

“I take it you didn’t hear anything from the Harlem audition?”

Victoria shook her head. “Nothing good.”

“That sucks. They called and told me that they liked my voice, but I didn’t fit the image of the club.”

The other folks in the band were filtering back, and one of them handed Roxanne a bottle of water, then went to check his cello.

“You sound great,” Victoria said. “I’m glad you finally found something.”

The cellist tapped Roxanne on the shoulder. “Sorry, babe,” Roxanne told Victoria, “I need to sing. Catch up to me later and we’ll chat, okay?”

“Sure.” Victoria waited through another song to be polite, then scanned the room again looking for Trent.

She didn’t find him, but she did find Jennifer, Trent’s interior designer. Jennifer had a navy dress with cream swirls up the hips and over the bust. It was hard to tell from across the room, but the cream looked translucent. What a tramp. Victoria picked another direction, any direction, it didn’t matter, and started walking. She accepted another flute of champagne from a passing waitress, then finally spotted Trent.

He was standing near a potted plant, wobbling a little. As she got closer, she noticed the slackness in his face and how his normally beautiful grey eyes were unfocused. He rubbed at his jaw, nearly poking himself in the eye, and for a split second Victoria thought she saw a smear of lipstick. When he took his hand away, it was gone.

When she reached him, Victoria caught his elbow, giving him a little extra support. “Trent, you feeling alright?”

“Whazzit? I’m good.” A blast of whiskey fumes blew over her as he spoke. “Victoria. Where have you been?”

“I’ve been out here looking for you.”

“Oh, I was... I...” He got quiet, taking entirely too long to pick his words. “I was in the whiskey lounge. Getting some whiskey.”

Victoria looked back over the room and spotted Jennifer on the opposite side. The exact opposite side. As if they couldn’t have been further apart if they tried. Funny that Jennifer had appeared at the same time Trent had.

Victoria took a deep breath. She didn’t know he was messing around on her. He seemed drunk enough that he could have just been working his way through the selection of scotch.

“I’m not... I’m not feeling too well.” Trent pulled away and stumbled off toward the bathrooms.

The band on the far side of the room was quiet, the music drowned out by the buzz of chatter and laughter. Victoria sighed. It was time to go. Trent was hammered, she was exhausted, and while it would be nice to talk to Roxanne, that could wait.

Someone bumped into Victoria from the side, sending her stumbling and nearly making her turn an ankle in her heels.

“Oh, excuse me.” Jennifer held a hand to her forehead. “Did I bump into Trent’s charity project?”

Her dress was in fact translucent. You could see all the way up her leg and follow the window of lace over her breasts, only barely missing the nipples. Prostitutes showed less skin.

Victoria ground her teeth. She wanted to give the girl a piece of her mind, but the middle of a Christmas party wasn’t the place for it. “I was just leaving.” She tried to edge around the other girl, but Jennifer moved to block her.

“I’m not done talking to you, country girl.” She jabbed a finger into Victoria’s chest. “Enjoy your time with Trent. He lasts about six months with each of the new girls. Wines them, dines them, gets his fill and then--poof! You’re gone.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t. Not yet. But you know what? He always comes back to me. Always.”

A tremor of rage passed through Victoria. This hooker was trying to lecture her about men? “I’m leaving. Are you going to move, or am I going to move you?”

Jennifer laughed. “Please, make a scene. Trent would
love
that.”

Victoria took a step closer, her hand balling into a fist. Jennifer’s eyes went wide, and she backed up, letting Victoria past. Victoria wanted to give her a piece of her mind, but Trent was coming back.

He saw them together and nearly tripped. Victoria blew past the other girl and caught Trent by the elbow. “We’re leaving.”

“You can leave.” He pulled his arm away. “I have to stay.” He didn’t sound nearly as drunk. He stood firmly, not a hiccup in his posture.

“Fine.” Victoria walked away and didn’t look back. She wasn’t sure whether he was faking drunkenness earlier or sobriety then, but either way, she didn’t like it. She seethed all the way back down to the lobby.

R
OXANNE 
sat at a narrow table, an empty martini glass by her right hand, and a full one in her left. She had her chair turned out toward the bar so her back was to the wooden railing that divided the bar area from the rest of the restaurant and her right elbow was up on the table.

Victoria sank into the chair across from her.

“You look rough, lady,” Roxanne said.

“I’ve pulled three doubles in a row, and that was after being out half the night Saturday.”

Roxanne drank off about half her martini on a long swallow. “You couldn’t have been too late. I looked for you after we finished playing.”

“I left a little after midnight. Trent and I aren’t seeing-eye to eye on some things.”

“That’s your boyfriend?”

“Yeah. I caught him with a another woman, but he explained it away somehow.”

Roxanne finished her drink. “Run that by me again. He just explained it away?”

“He says the girl was his interior designer and just stopped by. And then he said they used to date. I think they were fucking, but he denies it.”

“So? So what if they were?”

“It’s not something I do. Or condone.”

“Ah. So if you think he’s fucking around on you, why not end it?”

“I don’t know.” Victoria sighed.

A waiter came over. He was a little shorter than Victoria preferred, but plenty cute. Roxanne flashed him a wide smile.

“Jeremy, another martini for me. And whatever Victoria wants.”

“A cosmo.” Victoria sat up a little straighter. “Actually, make it a double.”

“Got it.” The waiter nodded to each of them, turned on his heel and strode away.

Roxanne watched his ass until he was out of sight. “God, he’s hot.”

He did have a nice set of buns. And the rest of him wasn’t too bad, either. His ears were a little too big, though.

“What, you don’t think so?” Roxanne asked.

“He’s not my type.”

“Too short?”

“Maybe.”

Roxanne laughed. “That’s exactly my type. Here he comes.” She pushed her chest out and watched him all the way to the table.

“Ladies, your drinks.” His gaze lingered on Roxanne a few moments longer than on Victoria before he left them to chat.

“Sorry about that.” Roxanne fixed her attention back on Victoria once the waiter was gone. “You were saying something about your cheating boyfriend?”

“Just that I’m not the cheating sort. My mother is sort of a tramp. I always hated seeing her bring guys home, and I vowed I wasn’t going to be like that.”

“Right. So why not drop his ass?”

“Because he’s handsome and charming and I’m not sure if it’s not just me projecting my own messed up ideas about relationships onto him. Or something like that.”

“Well, at least you have your reasons. I, personally, am going to sit here until I have enough liquid courage to ask our darling waiter what he’s doing when his shift ends. And then I plan to take him home and give him the time of his life.”

Victoria shook her head. It sounded just like something her mom would say, but coming from someone else, it didn’t bother her: Roxanne didn’t have a little girl at home.

They sat and chatted about music. Roxanne told Victoria how she landed the gig singing with the band that played at the party. Victoria told Roxanne how she was collecting enough rejections that she could repaper the walls with them. It would have been an opportune time for Roxanne to encourage her, to tell her to stick with it until she found something. To say anything at all positive. Instead, she just shrugged and ordered another drink.

Before the waiter left, she slipped her hand over his. “Jeremy, isn’t it?” She batted her eyes at him.

“Yes.”

“I was talking to my friend here, and she’s got plans later on and my evening has suddenly cleared up. Would you be interested in a drink after your shift?”

The waiter’s smile popped like a balloon floating into a cactus. “I’m engaged.”

Roxanne smiled wider and thrust out her chest again. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“No. Not interested. Can I get you your bill?”

Victoria covered her smile with her hand. She hadn’t ever shot someone down that coldly.

Roxanne’s eyes narrowed. “Sure.”

When he left, Roxanne finished her drink and looked at Victoria. “I don’t really have much reason to stay back here. You want to see about getting a table and having a proper meal?”

Victoria chuckled. “Food sounds good. Would you rather go somewhere else?”

“And miss out on Chef Nomi’s food? Are you kidding? His sushi is the best in town.”

The bar was situated in the back of the building, connected to the front by a long, elevated walkway that stretched down one side of the dining area. About halfway down the walkway, Victoria turned to Roxanne. “Do you find it odd to eat Japanese food on December 7
^th
?”

“No, why?”

“Pearl Harbor Day.”

Roxanne shrugged. “I bet the Japanese eat hamburgers on the fourth of July. What’s it matter?”

They went down the steps into the restaurant proper and were halfway to the hostess stand when Victoria saw a familiar face.

Jennifer.

A man sat across from her. He had the right hair and the right shoulders to be Trent. Part of her wanted to confront them and tell Trent they were done. Part of her wanted to turn tail and run the other way. If she wasn’t sure it was him, she wouldn’t feel obligated to end it. Indecision tore her up, but inertia bore her forward. She still hadn’t come to a decision when Jennifer’s eyes settled on her. Jennifer’s face lit up and she said something to her dinner companion, though she was too far for Victoria to hear anything over the murmur of the other diners.

Trent turned around in his chair and spotted her. His face was expressionless, then his eyes crinkled with amusement.

Victoria caught Roxanne’s elbow. “That’s them. Trent and the girl.”

“Here?” Roxanne grinned. “Can we go harass them?”

“I don’t know if--“

“Come on. Where is he?”

Victoria sighed. “This way. He’s in the blazer.”

Jennifer had a sleek, blood-red dinner dress that made Victoria’s jeans and sweater look pedestrian. She also had full makeup, and Victoria had just put on a little mascara and lipstick before going out--she didn’t have anyone to impress, but clearly Jennifer did.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Jennifer said when Victoria and Roxanne reached her table.

“Who you calling a cat?” Roxanne asked. She put her hands on her hips. She wasn’t tall enough to tower over anyone, but it was enough to make Jennifer flinch.

Trent just stared coolly between the three of them. “How nice to see you this evening, Victoria.”

“Did she forget something here, too?” Victoria looked at Jennifer as she asked Trent the question, her voice shaking. Some irrational, animal part of her wanted to wade in claws first and let them both have it.

“It’s a business dinner, actually.” Trent was like a regal duck. All her anger just washed off his back like so much water.

Roxanne rolled her eyes. “Business dinner? Really?”

“Yes.” Trent said. “Who are you? I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

Jennifer snickered. “The village people don’t have manners.”

“This is my friend Roxanne,” Victoria said. “Roxanne, this is Trent.” She pointed to Jennifer. “And this is the hired help.”

Jennifer blanched, but Trent actually smiled. “Jennifer is the firm’s interior designer. We were just discussing how to furnish my new office.”

“Riiight.” Roxanne shook her head. “You two have a nice date. Come on, Victoria. This is a waste of time.”

Trent snorted. “Have a good evening, Victoria. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Victoria bit her tongue, forcing herself not to lay into him. Not yet. “Sure.”

She followed Roxanne to the hostess stand, Jennifer’s giggling echoing in her ears. “Hey Rox, I think maybe I’m going to pass on the sushi.”

“It’s not that good, anyway.” Roxanne passed the hostess stand, angling instead for the front door. “I just wanted to another shot at the waiter.”

Victoria followed her outside into the night. Her chest felt tight and she had the beginning of a migraine throbbing at her right temple. She and Trent were going to hash this whole thing out, and she had a feeling it was going to end in tears. Hers, probably.