luck for the night - rl.

21. his eyes are popping out of his head.

There I was: another fancy work event where
I probably shouldn't be. Although this one was even fancier than the one before: that one had been a party just for employees, while this was an event out in the open, with as many rich and famous people invited as possible.

The hall was getting busier and busier, and part of me started hoping that Remington would not even know I was here: looking at the sheer size of this place, it should be possible. It wouldn't surprise me if there would be a thousand people at the height of this event.

But maybe, seeing him would be my luck for the night? Or not seeing him, in this fucking dress...

"No, no luck. We're not going to think about luck tonight," I told myself in silence, and for some reason, it helped. I relaxed my shoulders, which had tensed up when my mind had wandered off.

I smiled, knowing I just held myself back from some big-time spiralling. I wish I could share my newfound epiphany with someone, but I couldn't. I hadn't told anyone about my luck rule, ever.

Mel, Zoya and I were standing at a table, one of many scattered throughout the big hall. The buzz, the excitement of the party was starting to get to me, or maybe it was just the buzz of the champagne I had downed earlier, to calm my nerves.

"You know, I'm glad you came along," Mel said, taking a sip of her champagne, "usually these parties can get quite boring."

I looked around the big, white room, filled with people, darkness leaking in through the arched, glass roof. The whole room was basking in a mysterious, smokey type of light, with golden accents in the furniture, and little vases filled with flowers or golden sticks on every surface. But best of all: the open bar.

"Boring? I only see opportunities. If I could, I'd be here every week just for the free alcohol."

Mel shrugged, "it could be fun, with the right people," she shot a quick look at Zoya, "but most people from our team don't like things like this."

"Yeah," Zoya added, "and most of the other people here look down on us. So the only reason to go is the open bar!" She took a big swig from her flute. She started coughing, and Amelia quickly came to her rescue, softly hitting her back.

"Okay scrap that, they can't even do alcohol-free champagne right."

"You see?" my best friend said, looking back up at me, "these parties suck unless you come along to stir up some trouble!"

I laughed. "Well, I'm planning to stay out of trouble tonight, ladies."

Mel raised her brows. "Keep dreaming."

We kept standing there at the table, and I realised that if I looked to my right, I had a clear view of the door. And, anyone walking in would have a clear view of me. I looked at Zoya and Mel, who exchanged a look that seemed to say more than a thousand words, judging by the length of it. Did the two conspire this together? I wouldn't put it past them.

I tried to give the two some space by looking around the room, champagne in hand. I did not feel discomfort, being at an event I probably wasn't supposed to be, wearing something I would not want to be caught dead in if it was a normal day. Excitement was what I felt, together with confidence, in a weird twist of fate.

I looked down at my dress, doubt rushing over me. Wasn't this a bit too much Joe Goldberg for my taste? Showing up at a place he would be, without him telling me he would be there? Should I just leave, now that he wasn't here yet?

Amelia's voice cut into my thoughts. "He is here he is here!" She hit my arm to get my attention, as well as Zoya's.

I took a deep breath, drinking some more champagne. I guess I could only hope now, that this dress was such a big distraction he wouldn't realise I was pulling a big stalker move.