Page 18 of Play With Me

We grabbed drinks for ourselves and Lou and found our table while she mingled.

“She didn’t tell me we were going to the Luminary Arts Foundation Gala,” Hasan said, eyes wandering around the room.

“Yeah, I thought this was supposed to be about foster kids.” White tablecloths covered forty or so round tables, each with a large floral centerpiece.

“A few of the art programs for disadvantaged youth that I’m aware of are funded by LAF,” he explained. “That’s how Lou got her start in ceramics.”

“Gotcha. Does she ever wish she went to college?” I asked.

Has snorted. “She has a business degree from Brown, bro.”

My head snapped to face him. “What the fuck? Why wouldn’t she have mentioned that?”

“I don’t know.” He took a sip of his old-fashioned. “Maybe she doesn’t care, or she doesn’t want people to belittle her art like they would if they knew she could be successful doing something more traditional.” He sighed.

“I can’t imagine, but in a way, it fits her personality. It’s cool that she’s not pretentious about it. I would be,” I said.

Hasan nodded his agreement. “She’s a dark horse, that’s for sure.”

I let the news settle while I finished the drink in my hand. It wasn’t that I didn’t think Louisa was smart—she was obviously intelligent. It made me feel shitty to realize I’d unconsciously assumed she was holding on to Hasan for more than friendship.

Be proud of her, lad. And be proud you were wrong. That’s a rare thing for a man to manage.

Has spoke in a lower voice so we couldn’t be overheard. “She’s the reason we have the money to buy a place in Boston and why I don’t have to work while I’m in school.”

“What do you mean? Do people pay a lot for her pottery?” I asked.

“Nah, we developed an app together in undergrad and sold it over the summer. She insisted we split the profit fifty-fifty, but it was all her idea and business brain that pulled it off.”

“You fucking slacker…” I joked, but suddenly I felt like one myself.

Just then, a larger woman in a purple dress approached Hasan, shaking her finger at him, and a big smile took over his face. She reminded me of Eilidh the way she hassled him, but he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed until a laugh burst out of her.

“Viv, this is my roommate, Will Hawkins. Will, this is Vivian Reyes. She was Lou’s caseworker her whole childhood.”

“Ma’am,” I said, shaking her hand.

“I’m ten years younger than I look because of that girl,” she grumbled with affection clear in her eyes. I stood up straight. It seemed like she might’ve chided me for it if I didn’t.

“You should send her your hairdresser’s bill,” Hasan suggested, his hand still around her back in a half-hug. “Sit with us, Tíaíta,” he urged her tenderly.

“I would, baby, but Isa asked me to sit up front with her.”

Isa.

The name hit me like a fucking train.

My stomach plummeted, and I squeezed my eyes shut tight for a second.

The bartender with the laugh that’d gone straight to my dick. Green lights shining on lavender hair. I’d played through a hundred different fantasies about her before that night ended.

“Hi. I’m Isa… I’m helping out tonight.”

I must have made a sound because Hasan frowned. “You good, Hawkins?”

“Uh—yeah.” My voice cracked. I rubbed my shoulder to cover it. “Just felt a twinge.”

I knew I recognized her. What are the odds?