RUSH (City Lights, #3)(92)

The scent of Chanel No. 5 filled my nose. Many women wore that perfume, but I recognized it on Valentina at once, and a slideshow of its own began in my mind; of her and me in various hotel rooms, in various positions, with various cityscapes outside the bedroom windows.

“Hello, Noah,” she said, her French accent thick and rich, just as I remembered. “I’ve missed you.”





Chapter Thirty


Charlotte

Deacon led Noah out of the bathroom and back into the ballroom, and I stared, rooted to the floor, not knowing what to do. I sat for a good ten minutes on that stupid bench outside the men’s bathroom, feeling lost.

When I went back to the table. Noah wasn’t there. Neither was Deacon. The others glanced at me with mixtures of pity and embarrassment, as they watched the slideshow at the front of the ballroom.

I stood before them, arms crossed. “Where is Noah?”

Logan pointed one finger to the ceiling. “I saw Deacon take him up to the Observation Deck.”

I returned to my seat only to grab my wrap, and Yuri Koslov beckoned me to Noah’s empty chair beside him. I scooted over and the big man leaned close, bestowing upon me a gust of vodka-drenched breath.

“Have you read your Shakespeare, devochka?” Yuri asked, his accent thick and made thicker with drink. “Othello?”

“It’s been awhile, but yes.”

“Iago, he pretends to be Othello’s friend. But he is a green-eyed monster. He fills Othello’s head with jealousy so that Iago might watch the mighty king fall. And how does it end?”

“Not good,” I muttered. My stomach tingled and a sour taste rose in my mouth.

“If I were you,” Yuri said so that the others wouldn’t hear, “I take Noah away from Deacon McCormick, and Planet X, and do not look back.”

“Yes,” I said. “That sounds exactly right.”

I gave him a peck on one ruddy cheek, and made my way back out to the elevators, to the 86th floor.

As soon as the doors opened, I heard the music; the live band was here, playing jazzy little numbers as the entire city lay spread out below, like an ocean of lights.

I wandered through the gallery, the closed-in room with tall windows in the center of the deck. A small trio: clarinet, drum, saxophone played while half a dozen couples slow-danced before them. Tears rendered the lights as puddles of white and gold in my vision. I went outside, and let the wind—bracing at this height, despite the season—dried my tears.

I wandered the perimeter in search of Noah and saw a swath of periwinkle blue dress against the dark of a tuxedo. Noah stood against a cement rib, Valentina Paquette pressed against him. He held her by the wrists, and I thought for a moment he was pushing her away. But my heart cracked as she rested her hands on his chest without protest from him, speaking words I couldn’t hear for the music.

I turned and went down the way I’d come, feeling weak and shaky, as if I were going to shatter into tiny pieces. In the hallway that led to the ballroom, Deacon was there, looking as if he’d been waiting for me. He pushed off the wall and strode over, blocking my way.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, taking my arm.

I wrenched out of his grip, and glanced around quickly, hoping no one was paying attention. “Don’t touch me!”

“Please,” Deacon said. “Talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say to you and if you think you’re going to get me alone somewhere, you’re crazy.”

I marched into the ballroom, to the table to grab my purse and wrap.

A cheer went up. The slideshow was still going: a year’s worth of memories and stunts and gorgeous, exotic locales flashed over a dropped screen, flipping one after another.

I glanced around at the others at the table. They were all still there, settling in to watch the show, or maybe too drunk to do anything else.

“Tell Noah I’ve gone,” I said, hoping I sounded more put together than I felt.

Logan blinked blearily at me. “You’re leaving? Aren’t you Noah’s assistant?”

Polly rolled her eyes. “No, dude, that’s his girlfriend.”

Something in me moved, a tectonic shift, that reordered me, put me back together, like a puzzle whose pieces had been strewn all over and now came together to show the whole.

“I’m a concert violinist,” I said softly. Then again, louder. “I am a concert violinist.”

The others blinked at me. “Come again?”

I didn’t answer; I didn’t owe them anything. I turned on my heel and left the ballroom, to the bank of elevators. I jabbed the Lobby button, not permitting myself to feel or think anything until I got back to my room in the townhouse. Or maybe the cab, since I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to make it as far as the townhouse.

As I waited, I cast my gaze around everywhere, to fill my eyes with something besides the image of Noah and Valentina together.

The doors opened on an empty elevator. I took a step, saw a flash of copper, smelled a whiff of whiskey, and then a hand on my back pushed me inside, and Deacon blocked the door as it closed behind him.





Chapter Thirty-One


Noah

Valentina pressed her body against me and I fell back against the cement wall. Her hands held my cheeks, warm breath on my face, and then soft lips on mine that quickly turned insistent.