“You better just be mates,” Sam said, swigging champagne. “He’s Scott’s PA. If you wreck his head, you’ll have me to answer to.”
“Should Scott be going to parties with his PA?” Nicole asked Sam. “I know he and Toby get along, but isn’t it unprofessional?”
Sam shrugged. “It doesn’t matter as long assomeonedoesn’t dick him around under the guise of being his mate.”
“I’m not going to dick anyone,” Tabby protested. “I’m taking a break from sex. Trying to get my chakras in line. Come on, Nix, have a big drink and then we’ll take some pre-party snaps.”
Nicole made a face. “We don’t need snaps.”
“We absolutely do. Your eyelashes still look lit despite the buckets of tears you’ve cried this week. I have no idea how that happened, but it needs to be documented for the ages.”
***
It was midnight and Nicole was dancing with Tabby. She didn’t know the song or who’d bought the peach cocktail in her hand, but she was having fun. The whole night had been fun. They’d gone for chicken and margaritas at Bellville, then to a drag show in Collingwood where a queen named Bitchney Sneers had pulled Nicole onto the glittering stage. She’d serenaded her withI Will Surviveand Nicole had almost cried with laughter and amazement.
“That was amazing,” Tabby had said afterward. “This vid is going straight to the ‘gram. I’ll tag you!”
“No!” she’d said, but she was secretly thrilled when Tabby did it anyway. Her engagement shot up ten-fold whenever her Instagram famous little sister tagged her in anything.
At 10pm the five of them had headed to Emerald Bar for her ‘official’ party. Tabby steered her right past the bouncers and into the VIP section where two dozen vaguely familiar hot people were waiting. They cheered when they saw her, like she was a visiting celebrity.
“Did you tell them I got dumped?” Nicole hissed but Tabby had already ducked away to the bar.
“How can she afford all this?” Sam yelled over the music. “She better not be selling gak.”
“She’s not,” Toby shouted. “She offered the owners free tattoos. And a couple of the bartenders at Bellville. And the drag queen, I think.”
Sam pressed a hand to her eyes. “Why do I ever ask? Someone get me a drink.”
Scott smoothed a hand over her shoulder. “I’m on it, darling. Nicole, would you like a drink?”
Not as much as she wanted everyone to stop deferring to her, but she knew they were only being nice. “A vodka soda, please.”
“You got it.”
That drink had been hours ago and though people kept handing her fresh ones, Nicole didn’t feel drunk. Maybe because she was dancing. Time had always felt slippery when she was dancing. She loved it. When she was younger, she’d fantasied about doing burlesque like Sam, or maybe even being a stripper, moving so well that men fell over themselves to book her for private dances. Maybe even men like—
Don’t.
If there was one thing she’d gotten good at since Aaron left, it was ignoring thoughts of Noah. No role to play in a shiny new future. Her focus was firmly on removing her tattoo, getting an even better job in Melbourne, and finding the father of her children. She had a life to rebuild and he had no role to play in her shiny new future.
Only, now she’d been drinking, thoughts of his shoulders and big tattooed hands kept coming unbidden. She felt a heat washing through her body as she danced and realised, with some surprise, she wanted to be touched. It had been so long since—
“Want another drink?” Tabby shouted as Ocean Park Standoff bled into a trance-y cover of Pumped Up Kicks. “I’m pretty sure Anthony’ll get you one.”
Nicole laughed. Anthony was one of Tabby’s friends. He was indie boy cute and had flirted with her in a way that made her feel charming rather than pressured. “He’s too young for me. I’ve got next.”
“Cheers. Rum and ginger, please.”
Nicole finished the last of her peach drink and headed for the bar, weaving around young, never-been-engaged people. Where was Aaron tonight? Trying to chat up every girl in the world, probably. A few weeks of debauchery, then he’d buckle down and find her replacement.
She paused, letting other people jostle past her. WhowouldAaron’s next fiancée be? He was the only man she’d met whose standards were even higher than hers. Once upon a time, he’d called her ‘the closest thing to perfect’ but she’d failed, hadn’t she? And she was vain enough to care.
“Excuse me,” a girl said. “Can I get past?”
“Oh sorry.” Nicole stepped aside. She wasn’t going to the bar; she’d find Tabby and tell her she was tired and—
She felt him a split second before she saw him. An electrical fizz down her back made her shift, squinting through the crowd until she spotted him sitting beside the bar, beer in hand.