dramatically.
“That I had to lure with Baileys.”
“Hey, whatever works,” I shrugged with a smile.
He looked back at the TV for a moment with a grin, then back at the leggy brunette next to him. “Chaz,” he said.
“What?” I had to lean in a little more to hear him.
“Call me Chaz.”
“What about Chuck?”
“Never.”
“Well, Chaz,” I said. Just saying it made me want to giggle a little. I slid off the leather stool and smoothed down my skirt. “Since you can see I’m doing fine, I will take my leave.”
“See you tomorrow, Violet Jordan.”
“Joy.”
“I ’m sorry,” I said over my glass of red wine.
“Why?” Devin asked taking a sip of his own drink.
We were pressed into a corner by the bar in Bass Hall. Everyone was paired off for the opening night and dressed in their finest, including me in a new dress I picked up two sizes smaller than I had worn a week ago. And a pashmina to cover my back. The marks still tingled when something brushed them.
“Because I should have offered you and Peter the tickets.”
Devin smiled like a little boy when I mentioned Peter and looked down at his glass of wine.
“So the two of you must be hitting it off?”
Devin only nodded. We had both agreed talking too much about something like this would surely jinx it. Yes or no questions were permitted, if nothing else, for the other to live vicariously through.
“Am I being selfish, keeping you to myself on a Saturday night?”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
I leaned in and rested my head on Devin’s shoulder for a moment. He always smelled so clean and crisp. Not like the last man that I had been this close to. My mind drifted quickly to the dark man in the dark jacket and I clutched my purse to make sure my cell phone was still there.
The lights flickered in the old theatre and we paraded into the amazing box seats that Ben had scored for Jessa.
Half-way through the first act, Devin offered me his opera glasses but I shook my head. Then a little part of me chilled in fear, making my skin goose bump.
I didn’t need the small binoculars because I could see everything in crystal clear detail. Startled, I sat up in my chair and looked around the dark theatre. I could see everything. In the dark. I could see the man in the front row who was already dozing off. I could see the young couple in the back already misty eyed. I could see the fake mole on the face of the prima donna.
Devin noticed my distraction.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, leaning in.
“Fine,” I said back a little too quickly.
He reached over to touch my hand and jerked his back quickly. “You’re hot.”
“You look nice too,” I said, hoping the joke would calm the extreme arch in his eyebrow.
“No, you’ve still got a fever.”
“It’s just the wine,” I said as I turned back to the beautiful opera going on before us.
“I told you to go to a doctor,” he persisted, drawing some dirty looks from those around us.
“I’m fine,” I said back to him harshly. “Watch the opera.”
He set back roughly in his seat, scowling at me with his arms crossed.
My hands were shaking and I hoped to God he didn’t notice. I wasn’t fine. As I thought about it, I hadn’t worn my glasses in a week even though I was doing marathon sessions at my computer. As I looked around at all the extra details of the people I could see in the dark, I had the sudden realization it all might be real. People don’t just grow out of their glasses; something had to have changed me to suddenly have perfect vision.
And that’s when I panicked. A full-blown panic attack in the middle of one of the most beautiful operas ever written.
Besides the new vision and the slimmed down figure, I was on the umpteenth floor of a hotel last night looking down, not freaking out. This was real. I was changing, turning into something that ate dogs in back alleyways and attacked innocent bystanders.
Jumping out of my seat, I made a mad
“That I had to lure with Baileys.”
“Hey, whatever works,” I shrugged with a smile.
He looked back at the TV for a moment with a grin, then back at the leggy brunette next to him. “Chaz,” he said.
“What?” I had to lean in a little more to hear him.
“Call me Chaz.”
“What about Chuck?”
“Never.”
“Well, Chaz,” I said. Just saying it made me want to giggle a little. I slid off the leather stool and smoothed down my skirt. “Since you can see I’m doing fine, I will take my leave.”
“See you tomorrow, Violet Jordan.”
“Joy.”
“I ’m sorry,” I said over my glass of red wine.
“Why?” Devin asked taking a sip of his own drink.
We were pressed into a corner by the bar in Bass Hall. Everyone was paired off for the opening night and dressed in their finest, including me in a new dress I picked up two sizes smaller than I had worn a week ago. And a pashmina to cover my back. The marks still tingled when something brushed them.
“Because I should have offered you and Peter the tickets.”
Devin smiled like a little boy when I mentioned Peter and looked down at his glass of wine.
“So the two of you must be hitting it off?”
Devin only nodded. We had both agreed talking too much about something like this would surely jinx it. Yes or no questions were permitted, if nothing else, for the other to live vicariously through.
“Am I being selfish, keeping you to myself on a Saturday night?”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
I leaned in and rested my head on Devin’s shoulder for a moment. He always smelled so clean and crisp. Not like the last man that I had been this close to. My mind drifted quickly to the dark man in the dark jacket and I clutched my purse to make sure my cell phone was still there.
The lights flickered in the old theatre and we paraded into the amazing box seats that Ben had scored for Jessa.
Half-way through the first act, Devin offered me his opera glasses but I shook my head. Then a little part of me chilled in fear, making my skin goose bump.
I didn’t need the small binoculars because I could see everything in crystal clear detail. Startled, I sat up in my chair and looked around the dark theatre. I could see everything. In the dark. I could see the man in the front row who was already dozing off. I could see the young couple in the back already misty eyed. I could see the fake mole on the face of the prima donna.
Devin noticed my distraction.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, leaning in.
“Fine,” I said back a little too quickly.
He reached over to touch my hand and jerked his back quickly. “You’re hot.”
“You look nice too,” I said, hoping the joke would calm the extreme arch in his eyebrow.
“No, you’ve still got a fever.”
“It’s just the wine,” I said as I turned back to the beautiful opera going on before us.
“I told you to go to a doctor,” he persisted, drawing some dirty looks from those around us.
“I’m fine,” I said back to him harshly. “Watch the opera.”
He set back roughly in his seat, scowling at me with his arms crossed.
My hands were shaking and I hoped to God he didn’t notice. I wasn’t fine. As I thought about it, I hadn’t worn my glasses in a week even though I was doing marathon sessions at my computer. As I looked around at all the extra details of the people I could see in the dark, I had the sudden realization it all might be real. People don’t just grow out of their glasses; something had to have changed me to suddenly have perfect vision.
And that’s when I panicked. A full-blown panic attack in the middle of one of the most beautiful operas ever written.
Besides the new vision and the slimmed down figure, I was on the umpteenth floor of a hotel last night looking down, not freaking out. This was real. I was changing, turning into something that ate dogs in back alleyways and attacked innocent bystanders.
Jumping out of my seat, I made a mad
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