Chapter 7 - The Hallway Before He Came In
I’d slipped out of the ballroom because my cheeks hurt from smiling. That’s the truth of it. The foundation’s gala afterparty was still going loud behind me, some string quartet trying to compete with the clink of glasses, and I needed air that didn’t smell like other people’s perfume.
The hallway was empty when I stepped into it. White panels, the sconces turned low and warm, my sequined dress throwing little sparks across the checkered floor with every step. My clutch was tucked under my arm. I was headed for the dressing suite at the far end to grab my wrap and call a car. I told myself five minutes and I’d be gone.
I heard her heels before I saw her.
“Elena.”
Vanessa came out of the shadow by the double doors. She still had her hair perfect in that low bun, her long magenta dress fitted and clean. She was holding a champagne coupe by the stem, like she’d just lifted it off a tray. She didn’t look drunk. She looked focused.
I stopped. “Hey. Great night, huh?”
“Don’t do that,” she said. “Don’t act like you don’t know.”
I shifted my clutch. “Know what?”
She stepped closer. The sconce light caught her face. “You spent twenty minutes talking to my husband by the donor wall. After I asked you not to make this weird.”
I remembered it exactly. Marcus had asked about the youth art program, about my hours, about the bus route the kids took to the tower. It was work talk. I’d said maybe three sentences more than I needed to because he actually listened.
“It wasn’t — he asked about the program,” I said. “That was it.”
“You laughed,” Vanessa said. Her voice stayed quiet. “You touched his arm.”
I must have. I didn’t remember doing it. I remembered the noise, the crowd pushing in, me steadying myself. “I’m sorry if that bothered you. It didn’t mean anything.”
“It means something to me.” She took another step. Now there was maybe three feet between us, then two. I could smell the champagne. “Everyone watches him. Everyone wants a piece of the Hales tonight.”
I started to move past her toward the suite. “I’m just going to get my stuff —”
She moved to block me. Not big, just enough. Her mouth was tight.
“Vanessa, come on,” I said. I tried to keep it light. “Let me just —”
“You think because you’re younger —” she started, and then she stopped herself, looked down at the coupe in her hand like she was surprised it was there. Then she threw it.
It wasn’t a slip. She snapped her wrist and let it fly sidearm at the floor to my left. The sound cracked down the hallway. Glass exploded across the black-and-white marble, little shards catching the warm light, champagne spreading dark over the checks.
I flinched hard. “Jesus.”
“Pick it up,” she said.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
I stared at her. My heart was hammering so loud I could feel it in my throat. “I’m not — I’m going to get someone to clean that before someone gets hurt.”
I tried to step around the spill, aiming for the dry black square near the wall. My heel found a slick spot I didn’t see. It went out from under me so fast I didn’t even get my hands fully out.
I hit the floor on my side. Pain shot up my arm first, sharp and hot. Then my cheek scraped, then the heel of my hand as I tried to push up. I felt the grit under my skin before I saw the blood. When I lifted my forearm, there were two thin cuts beading red, and my hand was shaking.
I gasped. I couldn’t get air right for a second. The sequins on my dress scraped against the marble. A shard was stuck near my wrist and I brushed at it and only made it bleed more.
Vanessa didn’t move at first. She just looked down at me. Her breathing changed.
Then she looked at my feet. One of my beige heels had come half off when I fell. She bent and picked it up by the heel.
May you like
“Get up,” she said, lifting the shoe.
I tried. My hand slipped on the wet tile and I went back down on my elbow. That’s when I heard the double doors thud open behind her and cold air rush in, and I knew someone had heard the glass break.
