Page 33 of Ambiguous
“Right. Emily has.”
“Then you both shall go. If you like, that is,” I say, suddenly feeling like I’ve assumed too much.
“She will flip,” he says. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
When Sam goes to shake my hand, I pull him in for a hug. For some reason, I’m finding it hard to swallow, and I hold in a breath.
When we break apart, I touch my throat. “See you.”
“See you.”
I go back into the event I’m supposed to be attending. The ballroom is now darkened, and people are watching a presentation on all the good the foundation does.
I slip into my seat and lean over to whisper in Loren’s ear, “Saw my new favorite person.”
They tilt their head. “The attorney? He’s here?”
“He is. He’s at a different event.”
“It’s like you’re orbiting each other.”
“Kinda, yeah.”
“Hmm. Well, he works for the other side, don’t forget.”
“I like to think of it as collaboration. Plus, he’s my muse.”
“Whatever you say, Jules.”
CHAPTER13
Sam
After we get searched by security, a woman in a black T-shirt scans my phone and nods at the lanyard around my neck. I wait for Emily off to the side while they check her ticket.
We’re in this hot, vast desert space of open skies and crowds of people.
They’ve made it as comfortable as it can be with covered areas. The stages have little to no shade, though, so both Em and I are wearing hats.
I’m not very good at dressing down, and I stick out in a pink polo shirt and shorts. Emily’s more in her element in a long hippie dress. I should be dining at a tennis club in Palm Springs. She belongs at Burning Man.
Em hooks her arm in mine. “This isamazing!”
All I can think about is Julian. I haven’t told her I danced with him. After all, he’s her celebrity crush. She knows way more about him than I do. I could grill her for details.
But the feelings I have for him are more delicate, and I don’t want to talk about them. I hide them under the cloak of my interaction with him being work-related, but in reality, I’m picturing his beautiful face in the moonlight at the hotel and wondering if I should have kissed him. If he was going to kiss me. Or if we were going to drag each other to some room there and do very naughty things to each other.
“This place is glamorous, in a dusty way,” I say, to distract myself from my thoughts. The attendees exude a sheen of youth and look good in tattoos and band T-shirts and skimpy things. I glance down at my Top-Siders and feel older than I am.
“I’m so glad you invited me along. Because I would have killed you if you didn’t.”
“I know, although you’ve seen him in concert before.”
“Backstage passes are another level.”
“True.” I look around. “What do you want to do first?”
