“Old friends, new friends … and everyone worth showing off the new you to.”
Trish leads Ella up a flight of stairs and toward the back of the house. I stay a few steps behind but I don’t miss how Ella checks on me. Each time she peeks over her shoulder I offer her a calm smile.
“You good?” she mouths at me. As if she’s the one who should be worried and not the other way around.
I eye her in a way she should recognize and then tap her ass to keep it moving. Her shy smile and the way she bites her lip are everything. They go out through a set of open double doors. It doesn’t make sense that the doors are open—it’s too late in the year—until I step out after them.
It’s a massive heated porch. On the other side is a long bar.
The partying on this level is far more intense. Trish and Ella join up with a crowd near the bar.
Someone hands her a drink. Someone I don’t recognize but Ella obviously does.
“Cheers,” the woman yells over the loud din from everyone one else out here, and Ella drinks from her glass. It’s only a sip at first, but it doesn’t take long for more people and more sips until it’s drained along with the rest of them.
“Zander,” calls Trish over her shoulder, and I step forward so she can introduce me to their friends. I don’t hear any of the names she says while I shake hand after hand, looking into one glazed-over pair of eyes and then another.
They’re wasted. Every person here is drinking heavily and as I’m politely shaking hands. Ella accepts another drink. Red flags. This is a sea of red flags.