Stone Cold Fox (66)

Fate smiled upon us because the music slowed down to something undeniably sultry. I’m convinced the DJ had been observing our interaction. Perhaps she instinctively knew I wanted this man to put his hands on me. Maybe she thought we were friendly exes or people from each other’s past who never quite got the timing right. Either way, she must have felt wistful about it enough to throw us a bone in the form of a slow song so we could enjoy the moment, but one that wouldn’t be interpreted by anyone else as anything unsavory. She played a Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga duet of another old standard. It was the kind of song you’d dance to with your grandfather or a child or a slow uncle.

It wasn’t amorous. The perfect disguise.

“A stylist, huh?” he whispered again in my ear, far too close. He then waved at Collin, who waved back, as if to give his approval for the dance. Curious. Collin knew this man had no problems encroaching on women who were spoken for. My husband must have been trying to play it cool. I wondered if I’d hear about the transgression later, considering he had made his wishes about Dave and me known, but I couldn’t imagine Collin bringing it up while we consummated our marriage, which I was actually excited to do so I could further fantasize about Dave with no repercussions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I smiled, pulling away intentionally to create space. I wanted him to work for it.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Dave said. He gave me a quick twirl, tossing me out, before pulling me in close again. He was a good dancer.

“Why didn’t you say anything when we stopped by the dreaded singles table?” I whispered back to him.

“Funny. But I don’t find being single dreadful at all,” he said, pleased with himself.

“So I’ve heard,” I purred.

“You know, we all thought Coll would bag a socialite when his number was up. Not a career woman like you. It’s impressive. My money was on Heather Concord. Easy on the eyes, low on the brains. But you probably keep him on his toes.”

“You didn’t bet on your friend Gale?” I asked.

“No.” He laughed. “I did not bet on Gale Wallace-Leicester marrying Collin Case.”

“Why not?” I asked, feigning innocence, which he caught on to immediately.

“You’re bad,” he replied. He liked it.

“So you’re coming back to New York full-time?”

“Mm-hmm.” He nodded, giving me another spin out and back in again. “Still figuring out where I want to land. Somewhere safe.” He smiled.

“What about the Upper West Side? To stay close to your friend Hemingway.”

“So she’s a comedian?”

“The observational kind. What were you up to that day?”

“When I’m in town for a quick trip, I usually stay with Gale.”

“Why?” I couldn’t hide my disdain and that made him laugh again.

“She doesn’t ask questions.”

“I think it’s a valid question considering the existence of hotels and, I’m assuming, a fair amount of properties in the family?”

“Gale’s an old friend and her place is nice. It’s private. And I can be off the grid a bit,” he explained. “See, Bea, I don’t like my whereabouts widely known. I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m followed. Socially, that is.” I snorted. “I know I sound like a dick”—he laughed, too—“but it’s true. So I was in town for some meetings and I didn’t want to see anyone else and I didn’t want anyone seeing me. Fuck Page Six, you know?”

“Mysterious whereabouts. Hmm. Sounds about right.”

“Oh yeah?” Dave was amused. He looked too hot. Too delicious. His dark hair slicked back for the occasion, a regular wolf of Wall Street up to no good, practically licking his chops as he grinned at me and my décolletage. “What have you heard?” I’d heard too much. Bad things that drew me to him, because deep down I was a bad person, too. I had to fight it.

“I know all about your contribution to my bachelorette celebration.”

“What?” He looked genuinely confused. I refused to believe him. I had to. For so many reasons, largely because this information was what would keep me away from him. I wanted no part of anyone who went to the house on East Eighty-First Street willingly.

“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t play this game with me.”

“I think you’re probably too smart for me to play games with, no matter what Gale says about you.” He was trying to distract me with chatter about Gale. Smart, but I was smarter.

“I’m sure she has plenty to say about me. None of which I care to hear.”

“I wouldn’t stress about it. She’s obsessed with Collin. We all know it. It’s been that way forever. Kinda sad. Gale’s all right. Just stuck.”

“Are you all right?”

“Probably not.” He grinned, getting closer to my ear once again. His beard brushed against my shoulder. It was impossibly soft. His crotch grazed my thigh. A semi lurked, not surprising. “But neither are you, hmm?”

He saw me. The person I tried so much to hide. It was hot and hideous. I didn’t want to be seen unless I allowed it, which I never did, but Dave wasn’t waiting for permission. He was taking what he wanted, just like I did. A kindred spirit of the most menacing kind, akin to taking a shot. Hurts a little at first, in a fun way. A light buzz almost immediately appears. You want it again; you’re having a good time; it feels like living on the edge. Too much, though, and it could all go dark. Very dark. A blackout.