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“Congratulations, you two! Sophie, I trust you’ll make a saint of this one – he’s very lucky to have you!” Luke practically shouted over the music, holding up his glass. Now that Ben and Sophie have gone public with the news of their engagement, Luke decided that a proper celebration was in order and naturally, I was to be his date.
One of the great things about being back home in London is that people may know who we are as celebrities, but they are pretty great about giving us space to be ‘normal’. It’s a bit difficult Stateside – while I certainly appreciate the love and support from fans, some of them do tend to get a little extreme – and it’s just nice to be able to celebrate good news without fear of being mobbed. This year had been quite the rollercoaster, and as blessed as I am with work, it was great to just be out with friends for a drink and a dance (definitely a dance, soon). The club Luke picked out was fantastic – vibey but not frenzied.
I sipped my single malt, scanning the sweaty bodies on the dance floor. As my eye passed over the club entrance, it fell on a body encased in a floaty green dress. I looked back because it kind of reminded me of Loki’s cloak. The lush curves over which it was draped made my gaze linger. A vibration from my pocket withdrew my attention. Joss, trying to get hold of me (Age of Ultron reshoots are in a few weeks and he is yet to send me the actual schedule). I excused myself and made my way to the foyer which housed the restrooms. A look back toward the entrance conveyed that Miss Green Dress had disappeared.
On my way to the restrooms, I texted Joss.
Out with Ben and Luke. Club very noisy. What’s up?
It was much quieter in there – the music from inside the club at background volume and a hum from the different conversations between the people strewn about the foyer. My phone vibrated again.
Reshoot schedule ready. Will email. Have fun. Don’t drink and drive.
Joss was a head case. Great fun to be around and greater to work with. I typed a quick reply and as I pressed ‘send’ I heard a slightly agitated voice behind me.
“You’re impossible! This is why I never agree to go clubbing with you. You know I don’t dance and barely drink. The only reason I agreed to this was because you were supposed to be here with me.”
I turned around to see where the diatribe was coming from, and was pleasantly surprised to find it coming from Miss Green Dress. She had intrigued me from afar – but this proximity…
Her voice was low, husky even in her annoyance. The dress looked like translucent emerald waves poured over her curves. A red waterfall cascaded over her shoulders, down her back, stopping at her waist and every time she moved, even slightly, a soft, jasmine scent wafted into my nostrils.
I had yet to look at her face, and already I was captivated. She let out a sigh.
“Fine. Just one. Then I’m out of here. I’ll see you Monday.”
With an agitated huff, she clipped her phone closed and stalked off towards the club.
I followed, staying a safe distance, watching her as I made my way back to my party. She’d made her way towards the bar. I arrived to a half-empty table – Ben and Sophie having made their way to the dance floor, Luke in conversation with a pretty blonde he’d met earlier on.
I scanned the bar area for my girl. She was still sitting on the bar stool, but had acquired two shot glasses and a bottle of water. She looked at no one, spoke to no one but the bartender, and stared fixedly at her drink. I peeked at Luke – he looked pleasantly occupied with his companion, and so I decided to try and cheer my girl up.
Crossing the dance floor was more difficult than I’d anticipated, but I kept my eyes on her all the while. She was seated sideways now on the stool, one arm on the bar, the other nursing her first shot glass.
She watched the dancers as I watched her. I wasn’t the only one watching her though. A gentleman on the stool behind her was watching her too…well, perhaps ‘watching’ is too decent a word. Leering is probably more fitting, and he was joined in his ‘appreciation’ of her by a friend his other side. He touched her elbow, and as she swung around to face him, he said something to her, gesturing to the shot glass in her hand. She laughed, and threw the shot back.
That first shot was enough to loosen her up – when she turned back to the dance floor, the scowl was replaced by a tentative smile, with her swaying to the music in her chair. The creep behind her touched her again, leaning in to whisper something to her. She nodded, handed her bag to the bartender and got up, following him to the dance floor.
I stopped and watched her. Creep was being a little too touchy for my liking (God, when did manners go the way of the dodo?) but she moved his hands when he ventured where he was not supposed to and carried on dancing. And despite her unfortunate taste in dance partners, she looked like she was having a good time at last. The song ended and they made their way back to the bar.
To say I was disappointed would be a gross understatement. While I was happy that she was smiling, I was frustrated that it wasn’t me who made her smile, and apprehensive about the intentions of her companion.
I was about to turn and re-join my party when I spotted Creep’s friend stirring her second shot glass. Alarm bells went off in my head, as I saw Creep hand her the glass as they came up to the bar. She started giggling after she knocked back her shot.
I made my way through the sea of people more forcefully, never taking my eyes off her. I watched the smile drop from her face and her grip the bar. Creep lowered his head to say something and she nodded. Alarm had now morphed into full-blown panic, as he motioned to the bartender for her purse and slipped his arm about her waist.
I got there just in the nick of time, as they were about to walk off.
“Hey darling, sorry I’m late,” I said, loud enough for Creep to hear and clasped her gently under the elbow to pull her towards me.
Her confused look almost made me drop the façade and I leaned in to graze her cheek and softly implored, “Please, play along. I’ll explain in a minute.”
She still looked confused but surprised me by taking her purse and turning to Creep and sweetly saying, “Thank you, for the dance.” She turned back to me, quirked an eyebrow and drawled, “Well, you owe me a dance,” while holding her hand out, completely unaware of the murderous glare we were getting from her former companion.
“With pleasure,” I said, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.
As we slipped into the crowd, she stopped, prodding at her temples. I pulled her to me, one hand still holding hers, the other grazing her back.
“Are you okay? You look a bit light-headed.”
Her frown deepened. “Clearly, two shots are more than I can handle. My head wants to explode and I swear, you’re starting to look like Tom Hiddleston.”
I couldn’t contain my laughter.
“I get that a lot.”
We danced for a minute or so, her staring over my shoulder and me watching her frown morphing into sleepy curiosity as the seconds ticked by. She looked up at me suddenly and said, “You owe me an explanation.”
“I do.”
She stayed silent, waiting for me to continue.
“While you were dancing with your friend, his friend was stirring something into your shot glass.”
“What?” The ‘v’ between her brows deepened.
“I suspect that is the reason you feel the way you do now. And I suspect their intentions for you might have been less than noble.”
She looked at me questioningly.
“How can I be sure that your intentions are noble?”
“Well, let’s just say that I could have taken advantage of your condition without making you aware of it. Chances are you would have forgotten everything come morning.”
After contemplating that for a minute, she nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”
We danced in silence for a while, her smell and the soft, warm skin under her tresses (she just had to be wearing a backless dress) driving me completely to distraction. A weight on my shoulder snapped me out of my stupor, looking down and seeing closed eyes. I shook her gently, and her lids lifted.
“Perhaps we should get you home.”
She nodded, and allowed me to steer her towards the exit. I managed to get a taxi, and her address from her – within five minutes we were on our way. She was asleep for most of the drive to her flat, nestled in my arm. Every few minutes I looked down at her, just to check that she was still breathing. God alone knows what those creeps put in her drink, and I shuddered as I contemplated what might have happened to her had I not been in that place at that time.
“We’re here,” I nudged her as we stopped in front of her building.
Her eyelids lifted reluctantly and she pulled away from me and started rummaging in her purse. I got out, fished some notes from my jeans and went over to her side of the door. She was still searching for something in her purse. Gently, I pulled her out of the car.
“Looking for something?”
The little ‘v’ between her brows was back. “Money…and my keys.”
“No need. I’ve already paid the driver. Here, let me help.” I took the purse, restraining the urge to laugh – only three other things made up the contents of her purse; a small wad of notes, her ID and phone. I retrieved her keys and handed them and her purse back to her.
“Thank you,” she said, “for everything. I’m okay from here.”
“It’s a pleasure, Iris.”
I got back into the car but told the driver to wait. It took her a good two minutes to make her way up the stairs to the front door, and another minute or so struggling to unlock it. She would be standing outside all night at the rate she was going.
“Shall I wait for you, sir?” the driver asked as I got out again. I looked back at her. She was standing still, with her forehead resting against the door.
“I’m not sure how long this is going to take. I’ll get another taxi once I’ve got her settled. Thanks.”
I took the stairs two at a time. She was losing the fight to stay awake.
“Here, give me that,” I said gently, taking the keys from her. My voice made her eyes open. “Whatever that guy slipped into your drink is making you a little clumsy.”
She frowned. “He can be glad I don’t remember his face or name.”
He could be very glad I didn’t remember either. I held onto her keys once we were inside and led her towards the elevators.
“Which floor, darling?”
“Third.”
She held onto me all the way to the third floor (which I can’t say I was upset about). The elevator pinged, signalling our arrival on the third floor, and I let her lead the way.
“Which key?” I asked, as we came upon her door.
She pointed it out and let me open it. The minute we crossed the threshold of her flat, she sank to the floor, clutching her head. Dread hit me, and I scooped her into my arms and carried her to the doors on the opposite end of the room. I set her down on the bed and pulled off her heels.
“Do you have any aspirin?”
She nodded. “Bathroom cupboard.” She pointed to one of the closet doors, pasted with quotes, which turned out to be a bathroom. I tracked down the aspirin and a glass of water, and found her as I left her, eyes closed. Her eyes opened as she felt my weight next to her hip, and my throat constricted at the sadness in them. How had I not noticed it before?
She took the pills and settled back, pinning me with a sad, sleepy gaze. It was a struggle, not to climb into the bed and fold her into my arms. I settled for just sitting there till she dozed off, and typed a quick text to Luke before he organised a search and rescue.
“Letting your girlfriend know where you are?”
Her question made me laugh. “No. Luke is more like a wife, actually. He’s my publicist. Nags more than my mother ever did, when I don’t check in with him.”
“Publicist?” she frowned. Slowly sitting up, she took a closer look at me. Tentatively, she touched my face, started to say something…but closed her mouth, and laid back down again.
Within a few minutes, her breathing slowed and the hand I was holding began to lose its gentle grip. Though I knew it was time for me to leave, I found myself unable to look away or get up from the bed. It was irrational, but I wanted to know why she was sad, and I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to wrest a smile from her the way that creep at the club did.
I settled for a kiss, placing my lips where I’d seen the little ‘v’ just minutes ago. She didn’t flinch. Satisfied that she was safe and asleep, I forced myself to stand...but as I started to turn and let go of her hand, her grip on mine tightened.
"What's wrong?" I whispered, kneeling beside the bed.
She shook her head lightly, eyes still closed, saying nothing, but clasping my hand.
"What can I do?"
She moaned softly, and exhaled one word.
"Stay."