“Like you. A bit jumpy, and brain scattered.”
Where did she get that idea?
“I am not brain scattered. And I’m not jumpy,” I say, looking at the entrance.
She laughs wholeheartedly, pointing at me.
“You just gave yourself away. It doesn’t matter… I like fugitives. They live in the moment.”
“It’s true,” I say softly.
She ponders before stretching her hand out.
“I’m Isla. You?”
“Raven.”
Our hands connect.
“Like your hair,” she murmurs, smiling.
“Yes. Like my hair… Do you live here?” I ask.
She hesitates for a moment.
“Yes. Not far from here…” she says eventually. “You?”
“I’m visiting. Well, I’m here for work. I stay at the hotel.”
“I see.”
She asks no more questions when one of the women calls her name, signaling to her.
“We’re going to the VIP room. Bring your friend with you,” the woman says.
Isla turns to me.
“Do you want to come?”
It doesn’t feel like she’s truly excited about me joining them.
I don’t know where her sudden coldness stems from. Or if it’s real. Maybe it’s only an impression.
“I don’t know. It’s late. I should go back.”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday. Are you working on weekends?”
She’s in a good mood again, and I think the moment of aloofness had nothing to do with me.
“I don’t know… Probably not.”
The reality is… I don’t know what the schedule is for tomorrow.
I shoot my eyes to the entrance. More people come in. A VIP room sounds like a good idea.
“Yeah. Why not?” I murmur before shifting my focus to her.
Grinning, she loops her arm through mine, and we follow her friends.