Though we haven’t spoken much since Zander ran off, I like Dahlia. She’s gorgeous with a charismatic charm that makes me feel like I already know her. I’ve seen her in passing a few times at Club X, but never really talked to her before today. And I’m sure as shit not going to bring that up. I hope she doesn’t recognize me. I keep stealing glances and she doesn’t seem to make the connection. If she does, she’s not judging me.
If she knew the circumstances, I’m sure she would be.
I think it’s amazing that she’s actually married to someone that is her Dom, although I guess it’s more of a kink for them than a lifestyle. That’s just an assumption though. I know he used to be her Dom. I nervously glance down to my fingers, tangling them as I remember seeing them in the club. I didn’t know it was him, but I recognize her.
Lucian’s been nothing but gracious to his wife. I glance over at him, noting how smooth he looks in his dapper tuxedo. He’s a handsome man, and part of his personality reminds me of Zander’s. Looking out into the crowd, he has an aura of power about him.
“Oh,” Dahlia mutters, fanning herself fervently and wiping at her brow. I love the dress she’s wearing, a white lace number that’s provocative yet chaste. She practically glows in it. “I’m burning up.”
As if summoned by her complaint, a male waiter in uniform shows up at her side with a tray of ice-cold drinks. They’re made with a soda base, but that’s all I can tell from the small bubbles on the glass and the ones still clinging to the crushed lemons and limes at the bottom of each.
“Would you care for a refreshment?” he asks us, offering the tray.
I expect Dahlia to down the cold beverage immediately, but she looks at the drink warily. “Is there alcohol in this?” she asks the waiter with her head tilted slightly.
The waiter, a young blond man with charming dimples, smiles and replies cheerfully, “It’s the signature cocktail for this evening. Citrus vodka and Sprite.”
Dahlia immediately shakes her head vigorously. “Oh no, thank you though. May I have a glass of water please?”
“Of course.” The waiter nods his head before scurrying off.
Lucian places a hand on Dahlia’s, rubbing it gently. “Relax, Treasure.”
Despite my anxiety, a slight smile plays across my lips. I love the way Lucian calls Dahlia his Treasure. It makes me feel fuzzy inside, but also like I’m intruding on a moment when he looks at her like that.
“I’m trying,” Dahlia replies, instantly at ease by her husband’s touch.
Their breezy interaction stirs a longing in me.
“I’m sorry,” Dahlia says, looking over at me and I realize I’ve been staring. Shit, I hope she doesn’t think I’m being rude.
“No, no, you’re fine,” I speak quickly.
“I’m just not used to these things yet, and…” she pauses in her thought, glancing at Lucian as if looking for his consent.
He gives her a reassuring nod, lightly squeezing her hand. “You know I don’t mind, Treasure.”
A relieved smile spreads across Dahlia's face and she squeals to me, “We’re four weeks!”
It takes me a moment to understand what she means. Four weeks… pregnant!
“Oh wow,” I breathe. “Congratulations!” I can feel her excitement radiating off of her.
“Thank you,” Dahlia murmurs, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe it. I think I checked with the doctor at least five times before finally accepting it as reality.”
“It must be an amazing feeling,” I say.
“It is,” Dahlia agrees. “And I have this guy over here,” she stabs her thumb at Lucian, who chuckles, “to thank for it.”
The two exchange a few looks and I smile, trying to let them have their moment by looking away and sipping the water in my hand while I turn back to the crowd and look for Zander.
I’m about to give up when I spot him near a huge column, talking to his father. A sinking feeling tugs at my stomach as I watch the two men speak to each other. Judging by his father's stiff body language and sharp gestures, I think they’re arguing. Although with Zander’s expression, maybe not. I feel caught in their exchange.
I wonder what they’re fighting over. Me, a voice in the back of my head says as I take another nervous sip of my drink. I recognized Dahlia, so I wonder how many men recognize me. And I wouldn’t have a clue. They all wear masks in the club. My suspicions are only increased when the man glances my way, a scowl on his face.
For a moment, I feel the urge to jump up and leave, but before I can move, Zander turns from the man, and strides toward us. I’m quiet as Lucian says something in Dahlia’s ear. I peek up and he has a look of sympathy on his face. He knows. I feel sick. I feel Zander next to me before I see him.
“Is everything alright?” I ask Zander as he glides down into the seat next to mine.
Zander gives me a charming smile. “Of course.”
He’s so smooth with his response that I almost believe him. But I know what I saw.
“So how are things going?” Lucian asks Zander, still holding Dahlia’s hand. I watch as his thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of Dahlia’s hand.
Their conversation fades into the background as I sit there quietly, my eyes on Dahlia. I can’t stop thinking about how happy she looks as she listens to the conversation, a hand on her belly. I bet she’ll make a wonderful mother. My throat feels dry as I try to swallow, and I have to bring the glass to my lips and sip the cool water slowly.
“Arianna is an artist,” Zander boasts, drawing me out of my thoughts. Lucian looks at me with respect. “Really? That’s wonderful.”
I blush furiously. “It’s nothing really,” I downplay. Zander’s acting as if I’m an actual painter. I’m not. “It’s just a hobby.”
“Nonsense,” Zander says. “I saw your work. It speaks for itself.”
“It’s not in any galleries or anything like that,” I argue.
“Good enough for me,” Zander says firmly.
My cheeks redden even more as Lucian and Dahlia observe our exchange.
“Well that’s wonderful,” Lucian says, grinning. “I’ve been thinking about getting a portrait of Dahlia done when she’s further along.” He glances at his wife, pride in his eyes before looking back at me to say, “Maybe you could do the honor?”
I don’t have a moment to respond before Dahlia’s eyes widen and she reaches across the small table to grab my hand. “I would love that,” she says and her voice is so full of hope. She looks back at Lucian as though he’s just given her a wonderful surprise. “Could you do something like that?” she asks me.
“I haven’t done portraits before, but I could.” I nod my head slightly although I feel anxious.
Zander reaches behind me and gently massages my back, causing sparks of electricity along wherever he touches. “I’m sure you can,” he assures me, his tone encouraging.
I turn to look at him, to thank him, feeling a warmth and relaxation flowing through me, but the moment I do, I freeze.
I didn’t know Danny was going to be here.