I guessed I would get to that when it happened. Until then, I took joy in letting Corey release some of his aggression with me. Lola wasn’t thinking about him and he knew it. She was more concerned about the contributions and Eddie Witherspoon’s dick than her husband.
Corey let out a raspy groan and pressed his forehead to the back of my head as he performed one last thrust. “Fuck. You’re so good, Ivy.”
So good? He thought I was so good.
I sighed as he pulled out, and as he adjusted his pants, I fixed my dress.
It was quiet for a moment.
“We should leave early,” I said.
“Why?” he asked without making eye contact.
“She won’t notice.”
“Then she’ll leave with him.” Corey fixed his tie. “I need to get back.”
He turned and walked out of the closet, leaving me standing in the dark. What the hell was up with him? Why couldn’t he just get over her already?
Oh yeah. Right. Because he’d been married to her for sixteen years. I swear, Marriott. He was making this harder than it needed to be. He had the perfect woman right in front of him—me—and he was wasting the night worrying about Lola and Eddie.
Inhaling and exhaling, I opened the closet door and walked out. I went back to the ballroom. The atmosphere had changed since I walked out to find Corey. The lights were dim, and only the strings of fairy lights on the white drapes across the ceilings gave visibility. It was louder now, and the bars were overcrowded.
Everyone was drinking. Laughing. Chatting.
And then a song came on and I froze. “Keep Ya Head Up” bumped out of the speakers and Tupac’s voice brought back memories.
Back rubs and forehead kisses. A warm bed and a night-light. Glowing star stickers on the ceiling. Quick spaghetti dinners with dollar corn bread. Daddy teasing Mama over dinner about her new hairdo, when really he loved it. Me laughing when Mama scrunched her nose and teased him back about his naked chin.
Daddy always looked weird without his beard.
Why was I thinking about my parents? Why was I here? My heart beat faster as the lights above spun around me. I wanted to cry . . . but I was over that phase of my life. I was done crying, Marriott. I was here now. I’d gotten into Lola’s life, slept with Corey . . . but was it enough? Was it really worth it?
A woman laughed, and I looked over, watching as she threw back her head and pressed a hand to her chest. Pearl earrings in her ears and a pearl necklace on her neck.
They had no worries. No problems.
Everyone was so self-absorbed. Bragging about their million-dollar homes, Ferraris, and Porsches.
Trips to Cambodia, Egypt, and Croatia.
Money, money, money.
It was too much, Marriott. So many unappreciative people in one room—trust-fund kids or people who’d embezzled all they had and somehow never got caught.
I needed to get out. I needed to get these thoughts out of my head.
I turned to go back out, but before I could, Lola was walking up to me. Faith and Arabel were with her, and Corey was trailing behind her.
“Tonight has been so amazing!” Lola sang. Then she took my hands and dragged me to the dance floor. “Dance with me, Ivy! We deserve this!”
But I didn’t want to dance with her. She made me, though, and I couldn’t reject her in front of everyone, so I twirled with her and let the bass of the music run up the soles of my heels, but I didn’t put much effort into it.
Corey came to the floor to cut in and dance with Lola, but she turned her back on him, preferring to dance alone. I frowned at Corey, and he frowned as Eddie met up with Lola, doing some goofy dance move that made her giggle along the way.
She started dancing with him. Not touching, but their eyes were connected.
Corey was pissed now. He stepped between them, and I saw him mouth the words, I’ve had enough of this shit!
“What are you talking about?” Lola said, shocked by his outburst.
“You don’t have to do this shit in my face, Lola!”
Eddie looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t move.
Lola lightly moved Corey aside, but only after placing a kiss on his cheek and telling him to calm down, that they were only having a good time and it was all business. Then she looked up at Eddie and said, “Sorry about that.” And she walked off with him, arm in arm, not once looking back.
I was stunned. Fucking stunned. Just like that, she’d chosen Eddie over Corey. In his face. In everyone’s face. Samira was there. She was just as stunned as I was. She saw it all, but pretended not to, instead turning to her fiancé when he came up to her with a fresh drink and a tense smile.