Casanova(41)

Camille looked at me, her lips twisted up to one side. “I don’t believe you. Before...”

“Before, yes.” I looked down at my glass and stirred my drink with my straw. “I loved him, but that was a lifetime ago. That was before he showed me who he really was and broke my heart.”

“What?”

I snapped my gaze up to her. “Nothing.”

“Lani!”

“Fine, but you promise me you don’t say anything.”

Camille waved her pinky finger at me with a soft smile. I linked mine through hers, and we shook.

“Right after graduation, I heard him talking with Stevie Lewis.” I took a deep breath. “He said some stuff about me that hurt. He has no idea I heard what he said.”

“What did he say?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter now, but it doesn’t stop it hurting. I was more betrayed than anything. Let’s just say he’d spent a long time looking after the geeky girl only to turn around and be just like the others.”

Camille pursed her lips. “All right. Is that why you left?”

“No. I had a summer job at a paper in Scottsdale. I planned to leave a few days later anyway, but I just went sooner.”

“I wish I knew.”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Why would you know? I never said goodbye.”

“I would have cared more if I didn’t know you’d come back one day.” She smiled. “All right, I have to pee. Hold my crap.” She slid her drink over next to mine with her clutch purse and got up off the stool.

I rested my hand on her purse and looked over at the dance floor. Bodies writhed in the darker section of the bar, and I rested my cheek on my shoulder as I watched people move and dance together.

My stomach twisted. I should have told Camille to drop the line of questioning about her brother. Whatever buzz I’d had going on five minutes ago had disappeared into nothing. Now, I just felt sick. I wanted to go home and sleep.

I sat back up straight and looked at the drinks. They were almost full, but after this one, I was going home. It had been fun, but I had a lot of stuff to do tomorrow before the color run the day after, and a bunch of grandma’s stuff needed donating.

I pulled my drink toward me, but before I could sip it, it was whipped out of my hand. I snapped my head around and met Brett’s eyes. “What the hell?”

“Don’t bitch me out,” he said, his expression serious. “Thank me.”

“For taking my drink away?”

He looked at me, his eyes hard. “Lani, while you were just daydreaming and watching the dance floor, someone walked past and dropped something in your drink.”

I stared at him for a moment. “What?”

The hardness of his eyes dropped, and his lips turned down as he nodded. “In both your drinks. I’m ninety percent sure. You can’t drink this.”

I swallowed and looked at the glasses.

“Where’s Cam?”

“Bathroom.” Not only did I just feel sick, but now I felt...I don’t know. I couldn’t put it into words.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to think on it anymore, because Camille returned.

“Where’s Raven?” he asked her straight away.

Camille pushed her hair from her face. “Behind the bar. Why?”

He disappeared with both of our glasses without answering her.

I explained to her what he just told me. She grabbed her purse, and we pushed our way through to where Brett was flagging Raven down. She held up her finger and finished serving someone before she came down.

“What’s up?”

Brett put the two glasses down on the bar. “They just got spiked.”

Raven’s smile dropped, forcing her lips into a thin line. “You’re sure?”

He nodded.

“Out back,” was as she said before she turned away. She stopped to speak to a member of staff who nodded at her and then she disappeared.

“Come on.” Brett jerked his head in the direction of the hall where the bathrooms are.

We had no choice but to follow him. I had no idea what was going on or why we were following him, but I did it anyway.

Raven was standing in front of a door that said “Staff Only” on a gold placard attached to it. “Give me those. In here.” She took the glasses from Brett’s hands and bumped the door open with her butt.

“What are you doing?” Camille looked around what was obviously Raven’s office.

Raven set both glasses on a part of her desk not covered in paper or empty chip packets, then she opened a drawer and pulled out a small box.

Recognition dawned on me.

She noticed. “You’ve seen these?”

I nodded. “Testing strips.”

“Damn right.” She pulled two sealed strips out, dropped the box, and tapped the strips against her hand before she tore each of them open. “They test the drink for signs of the two most common date rape drugs. I’m pretty sure they don’t stand up as evidence in court or anything, but it’s helpful, especially when somebody has drunk some. It helps the doctors treat them when they get to the ER.” She dipped her finger into one drink and touched her fingertip to one of the strips. The action was repeated for the second drink, except this time, she used a different finger.