“Well, I couldn’t design and make a dress that fits perfectly, so we’re even,” he says, clinking his glass with mine.
I cross my arms, happy with his compliment. Not many people know about my dressmaking, mainly because it’s such a solitary occupation, so it’s nice to get some props for my efforts. I imagine if my mum was still alive, she’d be proud that I’d continued on the skill she gave to me.
“So, tell me more. I want to know some obscure facts.”
“Well,” says Jay, lifting my hand and turning it over. He starts to run his finger along the veins on the inside of my arm, and I have to cover up a tremble. “If I said you were 60,000 miles long, I’d technically be telling the truth, because there are 60,000 miles of blood vessels inside your body.”
I scrunch up my mouth. “Really? Don’t tell me that. Now I feel squeamish. That’s a lot of veins.”
His eyes travel to my mouth, and he lifts his thumb to smooth out my lips. “You exchange more germs when you shake a person’s hand than when you kiss them,” he murmurs.
“Oh,” I whisper, having one of those crazy moments again when I think he might kiss me. Like always, though, he doesn’t. He seems to welcome the distraction when Jessie suggests that we all play a game of strip poker.
“Ha! No way am I playing that with you two,” I say, pointing between her and Jay. “I’ve seen you both shuffle a deck of cards, and it’s frightening how fast you are.”
“That’s right,” Jessie replies, grinning in Michelle’s direction. “I’ve got lightning fingers.”
Because I’m drunk, I imagine little lightning bolts shooting out of her hands, and it makes me chuckle to myself. I stop quickly, though, not wanting to come across like a creepy “laugh at my own private jokes” creeper.
Jay nudges me with his shoulder. “When have you seen me shuffle a deck?”
“In those videos I watched of you, remember?”
He seems pleased with that answer. “Be honest — you watch them every night before you go to sleep, don’t you?”
“I do not! I only watched them that one time.”
“Liar. You love watching me do my tricks. They’re like your own little version of porn. I bet you have a fucking great time watching my videos…in bed.”
I push him now, hard. “You’re trying to embarrass me, and it’s not going to work.”
“It’s already working.” He laughs, and I narrow my gaze at him. Quickly, I move and go to sit by Michelle, deciding I’ve had enough of the torture of interacting with Jay for one night.
The tiny after-party progresses, and soon I’ve lost count of how many drinks I’ve had. There’s loud music on, and I’m dancing with Michelle in the middle of the room. We’re doing a waltz to a song that was created for booty popping. My drunken brain is pleased by the irony. Our heels have long since been discarded as we prance around, barefoot. Michelle leads, dipping me down so low that my head collides with the floor. She pulls me back up quickly, laughing and apologising as I rub at my skull. I’m too drunk to feel the pain, though, which is a plus.
“Shit, sorry!” she exclaims past furious giggles.
“That’s it, sir!” I shout loudly in pretend outrage. “I no longer wish to be your dance partner.”
“Oh, no, but the cotillion is coming up next,” she replies, putting on a distraught face.
“You fool, you can’t dance a cotillion with just two people. Are you mad?”
I’d like to point out that we’re both currently putting on fake English accents, like we’re in a Jane Austen novel.
“You two are really fucking weird, do you know that?” Jessie says, holding a beer in her hand. Jay has been sitting in the same spot for most of the night, nursing the same drink and watching us with a smile. I can’t tell if he’s amused or just laughing at us, though. At least he finally decided to go and put a shirt on. The other members of his stage crew have gone home, so it’s just the four of us left.
“I think it’s time to call it a night,” he says, standing and collecting my things for me. “Jessie, you and Michelle get cabs, okay? You’re too drunk to drive. I’ll take care of Matilda.”
“Matilda would just love for you to take care of her, Jay,” Michelle says, trying to sound sexy in her drunken state but just sounding like she’s got a bad cough. I scowl at her, and she almost chokes on her laughter.
Ignoring her, Jay helps me into my coat and slides my handbag onto my shoulder. Then he grabs my shoes and goes down on one knee to help me into them, his warm touch on my foot making me think of the phrase “hot and bothered.” Yeah, that’s what he makes me. I wriggle all the while, giggling drunkenly and making his job more difficult.