Confessions of a Twenty-Something City Girl

Playing for Keeps

I tighten my grip on Noah's toned leg as he pulls me closer, guiding me to sit against his lap at the roulette table. His body stiffens when he spots Justin, but a slow, deliberate relaxation follows as his hand drapes possessively over my waist. A cocky smirk twists on Noah's lips. "Welcome back," he chuckles, unfazed.

Justin, clearly several drinks in and on a mission, stumbles over with a crooked grin. "Well, look who showed up," he slurs, eager for a reaction. "Mr. Big Shot!"

Noah doesn't even blink, his voice is low and calm as his hand tightens around my hips. "I literally told you I'd be back to play once I danced with my girl." His words are deliberate, the challenge in his tone unmistakable.

Justin laughs boisterously, yanking Kat into his side. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment, guilt creeping over her face. I can't help but wonder—does Kat still feel bad about betraying me? It's a strange moment. I thought I'd be furious seeing them together, but instead? All I feel is pity. If I'm being honest, I don't even recognize this Justin. He's so...angry. And very loud.

"Whatever, man! I'm just here to have a good time. Let's all enjoy ourselves, yeah?" Justin says, tossing back his cranberry vodka like it's water. He pauses mid-swig, his eyes lighting up, "Miss Olivia? Is that you, girl?"

Olivia glances at me, silently seeking approval. I smile and whisper, "It's fine, babe."

"Hi, Justin," she says, her tone flat but laced with sarcasm. I can feel the weight of years of friendship in her voice. She misses him. How could she not? We were a solid unit for so long. Her gaze drifts to Kat. "Hi."

Relief floods Kat's face. "Hi!" She turns to me, her eyes hopeful. "Maybe the three of us could chat later?"

Whoa, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Sure, I've moved on, but betrayal is a different beast. If someone does it to you once, can you trust they won't do it again? Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. I'm not sure I'm willing to invite that uncertainty back into my life.

"Yeah, maybe," I reply, my attention drifting toward the stage. "Oh, look!" I point. "Tom's about to speak." I snuggle closer to Noah, feeling his warmth as he pulls me in tighter. I peer up and catch his eyes—his gaze slides to my mouth and back up to meet mine as we share a quiet, intimate smile.

Tom steps onto the stage, microphone in hand, and smiles warmly at the crowd. The buzz of conversation dies down as he raises his glass. "Test, one, two, three. Test, one, two, three. Is this thing on? Am I in the right place?" he jokes, and the crowd erupts into laughter. Tom's charisma is effortless as he lifts his crystal flute of champagne, commanding the room's attention. Waitresses weave through the crowd, handing out bubbly to the guests, and the same cigarette girl reappears, rushing over to us with more drinks.

"Ladies and gentlemen, friends, and family, thank you all so much for being here tonight. What an incredible crowd!" Tom begins, his voice carrying flawlessly over the laughter and clinking of glasses. "We're here not only to celebrate my beautiful wife, the one and only Diana, who truly deserves a birthday as spectacular as this. She's the heartbeat of everything I do, and I'm undeniably lucky to have her by my side. But tonight isn't just about us. It's about the incredible work all of you are doing to support Big Brothers and Big Sisters of Orange County. Together, we are making a real difference, and I couldn't be more grateful for all the generosity and love you continue to show."

The room fills with applause, and Tom gently raises a hand, signaling for everyone to quiet down.

"We've got a lot of fun ahead of us tonight, but let me just say—this isn't your typical gala. This is a night to celebrate," he continues, a vibrant glow in his eyes. "So, let's enjoy the evening, eat, drink, gamble... and may the best man—or woman—win. Let's make this a night to remember! Happy Birthday, Diana!"