What I did notice was the way the women looked at Tomas, with desire and annoyance when their attentions turned to me. Some women giving me a look up and down with a sneer thinking I wasn’t good enough for a man like Tomas. They’re only jealous because I’m on the arm of a young, fit, gorgeous man while they are on the arms of older men who don’t seem to pay them any attention. They are more interested in flirting with the wait staff than their own wives. I’d probably be jealous of me, too, after watching what some of these women must put up with.
I excuse myself from a conversation Tomas is involved in to go to the bathroom. Making my way across the ballroom toward the bathrooms, I push the wooden door open and step into the opulent foyer. A female staff member is there to greet you as you enter the restrooms. She gives me a nod, and I head through and find a stall. Sitting there I hear echoes of high heels entering the bathrooms as a group of women arrive, the soft murmurs of chatting follow them. I don’t pay much attention as I do my business until I realize they are talking about me.
“Did you see Tomas’s date?” one of the women asks.
There is a rumble of agreement from the women. “Do you think she’s an escort?” I hear the woman say.
Wow, how dare they.
“I thought he was gay?” another says.
“Oh, that’s just a rumor. Maybe he swings both ways?” another woman adds.
“Could you imagine Mateo and Tomas together? That would be hot.” Another voice giggles.
Keep dreaming, bitch.
“I would give anything to take them both for a ride. Apparently, years ago a friend of mine went to a sex party, and they were there. She watched them during an orgy, and it was the hottest thing she has ever seen.”
Fuck her friend. How dare she gossip about the two of them like that.
The women all make sounds of appreciation.
Hearing them talking about my men like that makes my blood boil. I clean myself up, pull my shoulders back, and open the door.
The women’s faces say it all when they spy me in the mirror they are standing in front of.
Making my way over to the sink, I wash my hands in silence while they stand there looking dumbfounded.
Once I have finished drying my hands, I turn to them. “Firstly, I’m Zoe. And no, I’m not an escort, but if I was, I’d be fucking expensive. Maybe someone your husbands couldn’t afford.”
The women gasp in surprise at my candidness.
“Secondly, Tomas and Mateo are the very best of friends. They are so close they love nothing more than to share what’s theirs with each other.”
I stare at each of the women.
“And I’m theirs.”
And with that, I turn on my heel and make my way back out into the party. When I leave the bathroom, I realize I’m shaking from the run-in with those women. If Tomas sees me like this, he’s going to worry, and tonight is too important for him to be focusing on me. Scanning the room, I see Tomas is locked in an intense-looking conversation with a group of people, I don’twant to disturb him. Then I notice the open doors to the terrace outside, maybe some fresh air will settle my nerves, and I’ll be back to normal again when I meet back up with Tomas. I head toward the open doors and out onto the terrace, where I notice stairs down into the gorgeous gardens. That might be nice taking a stroll in the darkness amongst the roses.
The moon is high in the sky not quite full but almost there. The inky darkness is dotted with the twinkling lights of the stars for as far as the eye can see. Ibiza doesn’t have much light pollution, so the stars are easier to see here compared to Barcelona. I still at that memory, hitting me. Such a strange thing to remember but it’s there. Lost in my thoughts, I continue to walk further into the darkness hoping and praying this garden unlocks something else in my mind.
I round a corner in the garden and stumble upon a couple in a compromising position. A beautiful redhead has the hem of her dress pushed up high and a leg wrapped around the larger man’s hip as he pistons into her, grunting in the darkness.
This is awkward.
The redhead’s eyes widen as she sees me standing there and her once-flushed cheeks drain of color as if she’s seen a ghost. Poor girl, I’ve embarrassed her, stumbling upon an intimate moment between her and her lover.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumble, trying to advert my eyes and run away from the situation.
The man turns around quickly at hearing my voice and his jaw drops.
“Sapphire?” the man calls out.
Turning around, I look behind me thinking someone is standing there, but I’m alone, and the man is staring right at me. The man tries to disentangle himself from the redhead, but she tries to hold him back. His size eventually wins out, and hepushes himself from her. Turning around, he tucks his dick away but doesn’t bother to do up his pants.
“What are you doing here? The agency told me you no longer worked there.”