After my morning at the pool I was running behind all day, having to get ready faster than I intended. The doorbell rang just as I put my final coat of mascara on, slipping into my black pumps.
"Coming," I yelled, opening the door to let him in. "Hi," I smiled, greeting him with a kiss. He gladly reciprocated, getting a bit handsy in the process.
I giggled like an awkward idiot, still ultimately pulling away. "Come on, we're going to be late."
He protested a bit, "We can be quick," he whispered into my ear.
"Not right now," I told him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek and double checking my makeup in the mirror. I could already taste the bourbon on his lips.
Our car was waiting out front, taking us on the short trip to the West Hollywood loft where my label was throwing the evening's soiree. Still considering putting together a solo album in the very near future, I felt it would be in my best interest to make an appearance. Not to mention that I hadn't had a real night out in quite a while.
I mixed and mingled, running into all sorts of people that I hadn't seen in years. Being the social creature that I am, I found myself really loosening up and having a wonderful time as the evening progressed. "I'm going to go grab a smoke on the patio," he whispered to me. I nodded my acknowledgement, still continuing my conversation with some old acquaintances. He must have been gone for at least half an hour, and I thought nothing of it, knowing he would have bumped into plenty of industry contacts himself. I helped myself to another glass of champagne as the waiter walked by, lightly brushing a curl out of my face with my free hand. I continued the cordial banter with a plethora of people but as I laughed politely at a joke that wasn't funny I couldn't help but feel like someones eye's were boring into me. I glanced around the room and knew immediately what I had felt. Standing in a group of people near the bar, there was Lindsey, staring at me like there was no one else in the room.
Our eyes conversed from the opposite sides of the room. He clearly wasn't expecting to see me either, but he looked so eager to come over. I could tell he wanted to get away, standing awkwardly next to the woman that I knew from photos to be Liz, who was laughing and talking, Lindsey not even attempting to hide his lack of interest in the conversation. I knew he hated all functions like this and frankly I was amazed he was here, but I had to say that he looked so miserable that I couldn't help but to feel bad for him. I stifled a laugh, biting my lip but a half smile still escaping my mouths. He smiled back, knowing what I was trying to hide, giving what I could see was a good laugh at himself, looking at his feet and sticking his free hand into his pocket, quickly excusing himself from the conversation at hand and heading directly towards me. He was only steps away when I felt a hand wrap around my waist, traveling lower on my back than I would have solicited.
Lindsey's jaw set immediately, and I knew in no uncertain terms that this would not be going over well.
I felt the grip on my waist tighten a bit. "Lindsey, its been a long time man, how's it going?"
Lindsey extended his hand for a cordial shake, unamused but not thankfully knowing better than to make a scene about me tonight. "Don." He acknowledged him briefly.
"Stephanie," he turned to me, "may I speak to you outside a moment?"
"I, um, sure." I was slightly taken aback, hoping that the two of us speaking outside with flared tempers and just enough alcohol wouldn't turn into an episode of Maury Povich. I knew what we were both capable of, and that was the last thing that I wanted.
Don gave me a disapproving glance, and though I knew he didn't actually care what I did he certainly didn't want to look like a fool at an industry party.
