The woman in the crown blushed and pushed to her feet, swaying drunkenly all the while. “That would be me. Twenty-five.” She hiccupped. “...again.”
He chuckled softly. “We’ve all been there.” Then, with the manners ingrained into him by the upper echelons of society, he kissed her on both cheeks. “Happy birthday.”
Her eyes widened, as she hiccupped again. She stared at him drunkenly for a moment, as if deciding whether or not he was real, then a second later, she excused herself with a smile and grabbed Lacy tightly by the arm. “Honey, can I talk to you for a second?”
Lacy spun around, almost tipping over in her tall shoes. “Sure, what—”
“I want him for my birthday. You must give him to me as a present.”
It was said in a whisper—the kind that was obviously not supposed to carry. Then again, it was said in a drunken whisper—the kind that carried all the way across the booth.
The girls giggled, as Logan turned his head with a gracious smile—pretending not to have heard. As for Lacy, she looked a little taken aback by the entire situation. But at the same time, despite their odd start, she looked as though she wasn’t entirely ready to let Logan go.
“How about...if he gets you a drink instead?”
The birthday girl considered, weighing her options.
“...could he do it naked?”
This time, it was much harder to pretend not to have heard. There was open laughter from the table, and Logan met Lacy’s eyes with a twinkling smile. She grinned helplessly back, completely at a loss, before he decided to step in.
“How about a dance instead?”
It was the ultimate sacrifice—dancing in public. Not that the giddy woman could know that as he led her out onto the floor. Not that he wasn’t used to it himself. If there was one thing that Miami did ‘well,’ it was clubs.
In the early days of his company, he’d had a publicist directing his every move. Go to all the clubs—she’d said. Be seen with all the right women—she said. It’ll be fun—she’d said. She was right about two out of three. Logan went to the all the hot spots, danced with all the right women, and had about the worst time of his life.
Never once was there a genuine moment. Not for a single second did they stop discreetly angling him towards the cameras. Kissing at all the right times. Laughing at all the right times. Posing, not dancing. And then, when the night was through, they would ask to go home with him. Bold, but in a way, they thought was charming. Hoping to get a glimpse of that famous estate in the private part of the city. Hoping to get just a small sliver of whatever money they could get their hands on, to milk the celebrity spot
light for all it was worth.
The birthday girl was looking for the same.
Not that she was posing for the paparazzi, she was doing it so all her friends could take ‘secret’ pictures on their phones. And not that she was dancing for the money, she was doing it in the blatant hope of getting laid.
“So,” she slurred, wrapping her arms around his neck in a casual stranglehold, “you’re a friend of Lacy’s? Someone from work?”
That’s one way of looking at it...
“Yeah, you could say that.” Logan smiled indulgently, but reached up behind him to gently loosen her hold. She was too drunk to notice. “And you? How do you know Lacy?”
It was a strange moment—one that hit them both at once. Logan was suddenly interested in finding out anything and everything he could, while the woman suddenly realized she didn’t want to spend her birthday dance talking about her beautiful friend.
“We met at school,” she said simply, tightening her grip once more as she pressed her body against his. The lights flashed across their faces, and her lips curled up with a seductive smile. “So tell me, Dylan, what exactly does this birthday dance entail?”
Before he could answer, she spun around—hiking her dress up around her thighs as she began grinding into him. A gasp of surprise escaped his lips, as her blonde hair whipped back and forth, but before he could take a step back, she grabbed him by the wrists. Placing his hands firmly on her gyrating body.
There was a loud cheer from the women’s table, but when Logan caught Lacy’s eye, she was looking rather stricken. This time, it was him that gave the helpless ‘come get me out of this’ look. She was quick to oblige, winding her way toward them with a scarcely suppressed smile.
“Stella, honey—I think you need to sit down with some water.” She gently extracted the two, angling her friend in the direction of the table. “Also, Nate called and wanted to know when you were going to be home tonight.” The woman shook her head blankly, and Lacy continued with a bemused smile. “You know—Nate? The man you’ve been living with for six years?”
“Oh—him!” Stella turned around and gave Logan a little wink. “It’s nothing serious...”
“And that’s enough for you.” Lacy pushed her into the waiting arms of two more friends who’d come to lead her back to the table, trying to hide their laughter all the while. When they were gone, she turned back to Logan with a blushing smile. “Sorry about that. Stella can get a little...carried away when she’s been drinking.”
“That’s alright.” Logan straightened his shirt (which she’d been clawing) and gazed down at Lacy with a patient smile. “But for the record, I didn’t know she was dating anyone. You really can’t hold me to that—”
“Relax,” Lacy laughed, “I know.”