Most of the attendees were the offspring of celebrities and moguls. Spoiled rich kids who handled the pressure of the spotlight by doing dumb things that embarrassed their parents. At one point she’d fit in here among the designer clothes and expensive jewelry. But now she didn’t know where she belonged.
Before committing to a lingering spot, she scanned the patio for Jason. He was exactly the kind of guy a girl like her should want at this stage in her life. Tall, dark, and handsome was an understatement. He was beautiful. The kind of gorgeous women wanted to make babies with. Dark skin, golden brown eyes, a wide toothy smile, and dimples. Fucking dimples! He had a stable financial situation, thanks to his wealthy movie-director parents. Speaking of his parents . . . They were well loved and respected in her social circle.
Really, what more could a girl ask for?
She didn’t know why but he just wasn’t doing it for her. It wasn’t only his lack of conversational skills. Even his suave appearance didn’t get her libido going. At this point, she wondered if she even had a libido. Was nothing working down there? Maybe her girlie bits were broken. When everyone else’s tingled for Tom Hardy or Chris Hemsworth, hers just went meh.
Maybe she should see a doctor.
She almost laughed out loud. Of all the things she should see a doctor about, not getting turned on by hot guys was last on the priority list.
A server came by with tray of mojitos. She grabbed one and sipped it hastily.
“There you are,” a voice boomed from behind her.
Dread crept into her gut, despite the alcohol. She swigged the last sip and turned to face Jason.
She gave him her best smile.
His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re in pain.”
Her face went slack. So much for trying to be nice. “I’m fine.” She grabbed another drink off a moving tray.
“Oookay.” He smiled then—one that should make her swoon. She was swooning all right, but it was more from the alcohol she was knocking back like her survival depended on it. Maybe it did.
“Did you hear the news?” he asked. “A record producer is interested in my demo.”
“Wow . . .” Was that her voice sounding so excited and impressed? Weird. “That’s awesome!”
Jason flinched back, his smile gone. “Are you okay?”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“You’re talking really loud.”
The world spun and she swayed a little. Ah, here we go. Now she could forget everything. Speaking of forgetting . . . What were they talking about?
Jason gripped her elbow. She looked down at his big hand, all manly and . . . big. Then she giggled. Sooo not into him. She pictured him moving that hand to her waistband then down to her panties.
A snorting laugh bubbled up.
Fuck. Was she losing her mind?
She smiled up at Jason and purred, “Get me a drink?”
An hour later—or maybe it was more—her head started to throb. Jason was still lingering even as Chloe and Priya dragged her onto the dance floor. With enough alcohol, anything was possible. Soon she was laughing and dancing, just like the old Ophelia, only poorly dressed.
“Fresh air,” she yelled above the music.
Her friends nodded and she stumbled out the front door. Her feet felt swollen in her shoes so she yanked them off and carried them as she headed down the driveway. Her head spun and she focused on inhaling deep breaths.
Where the fuck was her SUV?
She walked, barefoot, on the cooling asphalt for what felt like forever before she found her car in a lineup at the end of the driveway. Even this drunk, she knew better than to drive. But it was so stuffy in that house, she suddenly felt like she’d die if she didn’t get out of there.
After fumbling with her keys, she managed to unlock the doors and fall into the backseat, closing the door behind her. She just needed a break. A few minutes to lie down. Just to cool off.
She shut her eyes, focusing on the music in the distance. Soon the music faded away and she felt nothing.