After weeks of waiting, Stella and I had finally moved into The Mirage. We’d picked up our keys from an irritated Pam that morning and spent the rest of the day unpacking with help from our friends. Now, we were celebrating with a well-deserved night of drinks and dancing at the hottest new club in town.
Stella shook her head. “Only you would sound so happy about that.”
“Can’t help it. She makes it so easy.” I flashed a mischievous smile. “I promise we’ll be the best tenants ever.”
“J, I swear to God, if you get us kicked out of the building…”
“I won’t. Have more faith in me. But if seeing us around raises her blood pressure…” I shrugged. “That’s not our fault.”
Stella sighed and shook her head again.
Ava touched my arm. “Alex and I are going to grab a table. You guys coming?” Only the roped-off VIP area contained tables, but I wasn’t surprised Alex could finagle us access.
I was surprised he’d helped us unpack, though that was one hundred percent Ava’s doing. He’d worn the same grumpy look he was wearing now all day.
“Later. I’m scoping out the floor first.” I appreciated a good VIP area as much as anybody, but I wasn’t sequestering myself on my first night out in months. “You go ahead. I’ll meet up with you guys in a bit.” I patted Alex’s shoulder. “Smile. It’s not illegal.”
His stony expression didn’t budge.
Oh, well. I tried.
While Alex, Ava, and Stella made their way to the VIP area, I pushed my way to the bar. I’ll do a lap of the dance floor later, see if anything interesting was happening, then join them.
I was the one who’d suggested we go clubbing tonight, even though we were all tired from unpacking, so I didn’t blame them if they wanted to chill. Honestly, we should’ve stayed in, but it was my last semi-free night before graduation. I had to do something before bar prep took over my life, and our new apartment was as good an excuse for a celebration as any.
I placed my order for a whiskey sour and scanned the club while I waited. Gold outline sketches of hyacinths snaked over the black walls while fresh bouquets of the actual flower dotted the modular tables scattered throughout the room. A green-haired DJ pumped out remixes from his platform overlooking the dance floor, and servers in skimpy black uniforms circulated with trays of shots. It was leagues above what other D.C. nightspots had to offer, and I could see why Hyacinth was so pop—
My phone buzzed with a new text.
Annoyance and anticipation swirled in my chest when I saw who it was.
Josh: Tonight, midnight.
We’d agreed to keep our communications short, to the point, and vague enough that if anyone saw them, we could explain them away with a creative excuse. His text met all three criteria, but still.
What happened to a good old-fashioned hey, how are you first?
Me: Can’t. I’m busy.
Josh: Too busy for an orgasm?
Me: Your fragile ego can’t take a postponement? If that’s the case, this isn’t going to work…
For once, Josh ignored the bait.
Josh: Tomorrow, 10pm. My place.
Josh: P.S. You’re going to pay for the fragile ego comment…
My breath hitched, and I was in the middle of typing out a reply when I heard my name, loud and clear, over the pounding music.
“Jules.”
I froze, ice trickling through my veins at the sound of that voice.
It couldn’t be him. I was in D.C. How could he have possibly found me, in this club on this night?
My mind was playing tricks on me. It had to be.
But when I raised my head, my eyes confirmed what my brain desperately wanted to deny.
Light brown hair. Blue eyes. Cleft chin.
No. Panic clawed up my throat, rendering me mute.
“Hey, J.” Max smiled, the sight more menacing than reassuring. “Long time no see.”
JULES
“What…you…”My ability to form a coherent sentence died an undignified death as I stared at my ex-boyfriend.
He was here. In D.C. Standing less than two feet away and wearing an alarmingly calm expression.
“Surprise.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. His pants were more faded than he typically liked, his shirt more wrinkled. His face had lost the fullness of youth and taken on a gaunter shape.
Other than that, he was the same Max.
Handsome, charming, manipulative as hell.
Some people were capable of change, but Max was as set in his ways as concrete. If he was here, he wanted something from me, and he wouldn’t leave until he got it.
“Jules Miller, speechless. Never thought I’d see the day.” His chuckle set off a dozen alarm bells in my mind. “Or should I say, Jules Ambrose? Nice name change, though I’m surprised you didn’t change it all the way.”
My muscles turned rigid.
“It was a legal name change.” I’d changed it after I moved to Maryland, and given I’d only been eighteen at the time with no mortgage, no credit cards, and no debts, it didn’t take long to erase Jules Miller and replace her with Jules Ambrose.
Perhaps I should’ve changed my first name too, but I loved the name Jules, and I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of my old identity completely.
“One of the few legal things you did,” Max joked, but the words lacked humor.
The club’s energy, so exhilarating minutes ago, morphed into something more sinister, like it was one discordant beat away from exploding into chaos. Walls of sound and body heat pressed against me, trapping me in an invisible cage.
Max was one of the few people who knew about my past. One tiny push, and he could topple my world like it was a Jenga tower.
“You’re supposed to be…” Once again, I grasped for words that never came.